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Borrow, George Henry, 1803-1881

"The Romany Rye"

The fellow followed me with a torrent of abuse.
"Confound you," said he--yet that was not the expression either--"I
know you; you are one of the horse-patrol come down into the
country on leave to see your relations. Confound you, you and the
like of you have knocked my business on the head near Lunnon, and I
suppose we shall have you shortly in the country." "To the
newspaper office," said I, "and fabricate falsehoods out of flint
stones;" then touching the horse with my heels, I trotted off, and
coming to the place where I had seen the old man, I found him
there, risen from the ground, and embracing his ass.
I told him that I was travelling down the road, and said, that if
his way lay in the same direction as mine he could do no better
than accompany me for some distance, lest the fellow who, for aught
I knew, might be hovering nigh, might catch him alone, and again
get his ass from him. After thanking me for my offer, which he
said he would accept, he got upon his ass, and we proceeded
together down the road. My new acquaintance said very little of
his own accord; and when I asked him a question, answered rather
incoherently. I heard him every now and then say, "Villain!" to
himself, after which he would pat the donkey's neck, from which
circumstance I concluded that his mind was occupied with his late
adventure.


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