with the necessary preparations for such a journey than I had been:  for as soon as the shower became heavy (and it fell very heavily), she whipped off her cloak, and before I could say a syllable to the contrary, had it pinned about me.  She then drew out of a large four-cornered pocket of red cloth, that hung at her side, a hare’s-skin cap, which in a twinkling was on her own cranium.  But what was most singular, considering the heat of the weather, was the appearance of an excellent frieze jacket, such as porters and draymen usually wear, with two outside pockets on the sides, into one of which she drove her arm up to the elbow, and in the other hand carried her staff like a man—­I thought she wore the cap, too, a little to the one side on her head.  Indeed, a more ludicrous appearance could scarcely be conceived than she now exhibited.  I, on the other hand, cut an original figure, being six feet high, with a short gray cloak pinned tightly about me, my black cassimere small-clothes peeping below it—­my long, yellow, polar legs, unencumbered with calves, quite naked—­a good hat over the cloak—­but no shoes on my feet, marching thus gravely upon my pilgrimage, with two such figures!

In this singular costume did we advance the rain all the time falling in torrents.  The town, however, was not far distant, and we arrived at a little thatched house, where “dry lodgin’” was offered above the door, both to “man and baste;” and never did an unfortunate group stand more in need of dry lodging, for we were wet to the skin.  On entering the town, we met a carriage, in which were a gentleman and two ladies:  I chanced to be walking a little before the woman, but could perceive, by casting a glance into the carriage, that they were in convulsions with laughter; to which I have strong misgivings of having contributed in no ordinary degree.  But I felt more indignant at the wit, forsooth, of the well-fed serving-man behind the coach, who should also have his joke upon us; for as we passed, he turned to my companion, whom he addressed as a male personage—­“And why, you old villain, do you drive your cub to the ‘island’ pinioned in such a manner,—­give him the use of his arms, you sinner!”—­thus intimating that I was a booby son of her’s in leading-strings.  The old lady looked at him with a very peculiar expression of countenance; I thought she smiled, but never did a smile appear to me so pregnant with bitterness and cursing scorn.  “Ay,” said she, “there goes the well-fed heretic, that neither fasts nor prays—­his God is his belly—­they have the fat of the land for the present, your Reverence, but wait a bit.  In the mane time, we had betther get in here a little, till this shower passes—­you see the sun’s beginnin’ to brighten behind the rain, so it can’t last long:  and a bit of breakfast will do none of us any harm.”  We then entered the house aforesaid, which presented a miserable prospect for refreshment; but as I was in some measure identified