I had not gone above two leagues and a half, before the man with his gun began to look at his priming.
I had three several times loiter'd _terribly_ behind; half a mile at least every time; once, in deep conference with a drum-maker, who was making drums for the fairs of _Baucaira_ and _Tarascone_ --I did not understand the principles----
The second time, I cannot so properly say, I stopp'd----for meeting a couple of _Franciscans_ straitened more for time than myself, and not being able to get to the bottom of what I was about ----I had turn'd back with them----
The third, was an affair of trade with a gossip, for a hand-basket of _Provence_ figs for four sous; this would have been transacted at once; but for a case of conscience at the close of it; for when the figs were paid for, it turn'd out, that there were two dozen of eggs cover'd over with vine-leaves at the bottom of the basket--as I had no intention of buying eggs --I made no sort of claim of them--as for the space they had occupied--what signified it? I had figs enow for my money----
--But it was my intention to have the basket--it was the gossip's intention to keep it, without which, she could do nothing with her eggs----and unless I had the basket, I could do as little with my figs, which were too ripe already, and most of 'em burst at the side: this brought on a short contention, which terminated in sundry proposals, what we should both do----
----How we disposed of our eggs and figs, I defy you, or the Devil himself, had he not been there (which I am persuaded he was), to form the least probable conjecture: You will read the whole of it------not this year, for I am hastening to the story of my uncle _Toby's_ amours--but you will read it in the collection of those which have arose out of the journey across this plain--and which, therefore, I call my
PLAIN STORIES.
How far my pen has been fatigued, like those of other travellers, in this journey of it, over so barren a track--the world must judge--but the traces of it, which are now all set o' vibrating together this moment, tell me 'tis the most fruitful and busy period of my life; for as I had made no convention with my man with the gun, as to time--by stopping and talking to every soul I met, who was not in a full trot--joining all parties before me--waiting for every soul behind--hailing all those who were coming through cross-roads--arresting all kinds of beggars, pilgrims, fiddlers, friars----not passing by a woman in a mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting her into conversation with a pinch of snuff ------In short, by seizing every handle, of what size or shape soever, which chance held out to me in this journey --I turned my _plain_ into a _city_ --I was always in company, and with great variety too; and as my mule loved society as much as myself, and had some proposals always on his part to offer to every beast he met --I am confident we could have passed through _Pall-Mall_, or St. _James's_-Street for a month together, with fewer adventures--and seen less of human nature.

I had not gone above two leagues and a half, before the man with his gun began to look at his priming.
I had three times loitered terribly behind, half a mile at least every time; once, talking to a drum-maker - I did not understand his craft-
The second time, I met a couple of Franciscans more short of time than myself, and not being able to get to the bottom of what I was about - I had turned back with them-
The third time was to trade with a gossip, a basket of Provence figs for four sous; but when the figs were paid for, it turned out that there were two dozen eggs covered with vine-leaves at the bottom of the basket. I had no intention of buying eggs-
But I wanted the basket - and the gossip wanted to keep it, or she could do nothing with her eggs - and without it I could do nothing with my figs, which were too ripe already, and most of 'em burst at the side: this brought on a short argument, which ended in different proposals about what we should both do.
- How we disposed of our eggs and figs, I defy you to guess. You will read the whole of it - not this year, for I am hastening to the story of my uncle Toby's amours - but you will read it in the collection of stories which arose out of the journey across this plain - and which, therefore, I call my
PLAIN STORIES.
How fatigued my pen has been in this journey over so barren a track, the world must judge - but the traces of it, which are all vibrating together this moment, tell me 'tis the most fruitful and busy period of my life; for as I had made no agreement with my man with the gun, as to time - by stopping and talking to every soul I met - joining all parties before me - waiting for everyone behind - hailing all kinds of pilgrims, fiddlers and friars - not passing a woman in a mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting her into conversation with a pinch of snuff-
In short, by seizing every handle which chance held out to me in this journey, I turned my plain into a city. - I was always in company, and as my mule loved society as much as myself, and had some proposals to offer to every beast he met - I am confident we could have passed through London for a month with fewer adventures.
