I found my friend honest Pritchard smoking his morning pipe at the front door, and after giving him the sele of the day, I inquired of him the cause of the disturbance beneath my window the night before, and learned that the man of the horse had been thrown by the animal off its back, that the horse almost immediately after had slipped down, and both had been led home very much hurt.

We then talked about farming and the crops, and at length got into a discourse about Liverpool.

I asked him how he liked that mighty seaport; he said very well, but that he did not know much about it--for though he had a house there where his family had resided, he had not lived much at Liverpool himself, his absences from that place having been many and long.
"Have you travelled then much about England ?" said I.
"No," he replied.

"When I have travelled it has chiefly been across the sea to foreign places." "But what foreign places have you visited ?" said I.
"I have visited," said Pritchard, "Constantinople, Alexandria, and some other cities in the south latitudes." "Dear me," said I, "you have seen some of the most celebrated places in the world--and yet you were silent, and said nothing about your travels whilst that fellow Bos was pluming himself at having been at such places as Northampton and Worcester, the haunts of shoe-makers and pig-jobbers." "Ah," said Pritchard, "but Mr Bos has travelled with edification; it is a fine thing to have travelled when one has done so with edification, but I have not.

There is a vast deal of difference between me and him--he is considered the 'cutest man in these parts, and is much looked up to." "You are really," said I, "the most modest person I have ever known and the least addicted to envy.