He also purchased, at the same time and at the same place, a heavy walking-stick; strong in the handle for the grip of the hand, and iron-shod.

He tries this, swings it, poises it, and lays it by, with the knapsack, on a window-seat.

By this time his arrangements are complete.
He dresses for going out, and is in the act of going--indeed has left his room, and has met the Minor Canon on the staircase, coming out of his bedroom upon the same story--when he turns back again for his walking-stick, thinking he will carry it now.

Mr.Crisparkle, who has paused on the staircase, sees it in his hand on his immediately reappearing, takes it from him, and asks him with a smile how he chooses a stick?
'Really I don't know that I understand the subject,' he answers.

'I chose it for its weight.' 'Much too heavy, Neville; _much_ too heavy.' 'To rest upon in a long walk, sir ?' 'Rest upon ?' repeats Mr.Crisparkle, throwing himself into pedestrian form.