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JOHN CLARE.
315

and some dry straw on the road. The man told him of a farm a little farther on, belonging to a public-house called "The Ram." However, he felt too much fatigued to go on, and lay down under some elms by the roadside. But the wind was so fierce that he had to get up again, quaking as one who had the ague. So he essayed to reach The Ram," but the night was getting dark. Still he hobbled on as fast as he could, contrasting his own misery with the comfort inside the houses by the road-side as they lit up one after another. When he got to "The Ram," it was still open, and he did not like to lie in the outhouse, as there were people about. So he travelled on through a lonely road overshadowed by trees. At last he came to a spot where the road branched into two highways, and turning back to read a milestone, utterly forgot which was north and south. His doubts and hopelessness made him so feeble he could scarcely walk; however, coming to a turnpike gate, he found on inquiry he was right, and so went on with courage. At last he found a solitary house near a wood, and he lay in the porch all night.

Next day he pursued his journey, but in such a dazed state from hunger and fatigue, that he was simply a walking automaton, seeing, hearing, scarcely feeling anything. However, when he lay down in a dyke at night and fell asleep, the cold water woke him up and compelled him to go on. He went through a long dark avenue of trees, a town with lights in the chamber windows; suddenly a light coach heavily laden came rattling by, splashing the mud in his face. But he walked on as one half asleep.

Morning came, and his hunger was now so intense that he satisfied its craving by eating the grass as he went along! At length he became footsore, and dropping down as he entered Stilton, he fell asleep on the pavement in that partial manner usual with overstrained nature, and heard the people talking about him. "Poor creature!" said one. "Oh, he's shamming," said another. So he dragged himself up and hobbled on towards Peterborough.

Just before he reached that town, a cartful of Helpstone people passed him, and recognising him, threw him some halfpence. So he got a meal and was refreshed. On through Peterborough he went, until he got some distance out of the town, when a cart appeared on the road. It was his poor faithful Patty, his true wife!