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Liking Life on My Own Account No Better, I Form a Great Resolution

           

           Myboxwasatmyoldlodging,overthewater,andIhadwrittenadirectionforitonthebackofoneofouraddresscardsthatwenailedonthecasks:‘MasterDavid,tobelefttillcalledfor,attheCoachOffice,Dover.’ThisIhadinmypocketreadytoputonthebox,afterIshouldhavegotitoutofthehouse;andasIwenttowardsmylodging,Ilookedaboutmeforsomeonewhowouldhelpmetocarryittothebooking-office.

           Therewasalong-leggedyoungmanwithaverylittleemptydonkey-cart,standingneartheObelisk,intheBlackfriarsRoad,whoseeyeIcaughtasIwasgoingby,andwho,addressingmeas‘Sixpenn’orthofbadha’pence,’hoped‘Ishouldknowhimagintoswearto’inallusion,Ihavenodoubt,tomystaringathim.IstoppedtoassurehimthatIhadnotdonesoinbadmanners,butuncertainwhetherhemightormightnotlikeajob.

           ‘Wotjob?’saidthelong-leggedyoungman.

           ‘Tomoveabox,’Ianswered.

           ‘Wotbox?’saidthelong-leggedyoungman.

           Itoldhimmine,whichwasdownthatstreetthere,andwhichIwantedhimtotaketotheDovercoachofficeforsixpence.

           ‘Donewithyouforatanner!’saidthelong-leggedyoungman,anddirectlygotuponhiscart,whichwasnothingbutalargewoodentrayonwheels,andrattledawayatsucharate,thatitwasasmuchasIcoulddotokeeppacewiththedonkey.

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Roboto Lora
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