To afford his reverence an opportunity of arranging his clothes, the good woman proceeded to the garden and filled her basket with plantain for his breakfast.  Much as the general stood in need of shoes, he sat himself down for a most fortunate gentleman in being able to procure even such raiment; for, said he, what a figure I would cut entering Jolliffee on a mule, and in the hat and gown of a priest.  When, therefore, he had breakfasted on plantain and yams, to which a dish of coffee was added, he returned thanks to the good woman, and fearing the priests might be in pursuit of him, bid her an affectionate adieu, mounted his mule, and proceeded on his journey.

Travelling all day under a burning sun, he found the priest’s hat of great service in protecting his brain, which otherwise would have dissolved.  When night came he was more than six leagues from Jolliffee, and his mule being much jaded, and himself fatigued, he drew up by the road-side, in a grove of palms, beneath which a spring of crystal water gushed forth and rippled away over the pebbly bottom.  The mule having quenched its thirst, the general seated himself beside the spring; and when he had refreshed himself on some crusts and water, gave himself up to contemplation.  And the perfect stillness that pervaded the grove (for not a sound was heard, and even the mule seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of his master’s musings, for he baited cautiously of the young grass) gave to his revery a melancholy turn.  His forlorn condition; the many sudden and unforseen misfortunes that had come upon him; the narrow escapes for his life; the many times he had almost dangled at the limb of a tree; and the unnumbered batterings and bruisings he had got while displaying his “military valor"-all flashed across his mind, as if stretched upon a clearly defined panorama, and caused him to heave a deep sigh.  What compensation had he got for all these sufferings, which were the result of his ambition?  And the answer came to him with the suddenness of lightning-"Ruler over Kalorama, for a day.”  “Heaven be with me,” he sighed; “for now my poverty is perfect.  And who would envy my fate, here in a desert, without a friend, and in the raiment of a priest, which if I cast off I shall look like a clown, which will not do for the man who has ruled a kingdom.  Therefore, I say, seeing that it is good to be an honest man, that if heaven spare me and get me safely out of this snare, I will go to my home, and there live so good a man that the neighbors shall say, Roger Potter is a Christian.  Faith of my father, I begin to have a hate for these rogues of rulers, and would give a dozen kingdoms of the size of Kalorama to be safe beside my good wife Polly.  And resolved am I to get to her, so heaven favor my inclinations, and let not death overtake me on the way.  As for my employer, if he still persist in gratifying his love for getting kingdoms, why, he can get him another general, for there is no lack of them.  Truly,