His garb was very quaint and odd--a long, long way behind the time.
Its hue was brown, all over. In his hand he held a great brown
club or walking-stick; and striking this upon the floor, it fell
asunder, and became a chair. On which he sat down, quite
composedly.
'There!' said the Carrier, turning to his wife. 'That's the way I
found him, sitting by the roadside! Upright as a milestone. And
almost as deaf.'
'Sitting in the open air, John!'
'In the open air,' replied the Carrier, 'just at dusk. "Carriage
Paid," he said; and gave me eighteenpence. Then he got in. And
there he is.'
'He's going, John, I think!'
Not at all. He was only going to speak.
'If you please, I was to be left till called for,' said the
Stranger, mildly. 'Don't mind me.'
With that, he took a pair of spectacles from one of his large
pockets, and a book from another, and leisurely began to read.
Making no more of Boxer than if he had been a house lamb!
The Carrier and his wife exchanged a look of perplexity. The
Stranger raised his head; and glancing from the latter to the
former, said,
'Your daughter, my good friend?'
'Wife,' returned John.
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