Courteously Saluting Ourselves We Parted, He Remaining To Sell
Wine And I Hobbling To Rome, Now A Little Painfully And My Sack The
Heavier By A Quart Of Wine, Which, As You Probably Know, Weighs Almost
Exactly Two Pounds And A Half.
It was by this time close upon eleven, and I had long reached the
stage when some kinds of
Men begin talking of Dogged Determination,
Bull-dog pluck, the stubborn spirit of the Island race and so forth,
but when those who can boast a little of the sacred French blood are
in a mood of set despair (both kinds march on, and the mobility of
either infantry is much the same), I say I had long got to this point
of exhaustion when it occurred to me that I should need an excellent
and thorough meal at midday. But on looking at my map I found that
there was nothing nearer than this town of Charmes that was marked on
the milestones, and that was the first place I should come to in the
department of the Vosges.
It would take much too long to describe the dodges that weary men and
stiff have recourse to when they are at the close of a difficult task:
how they divide it up in lengths in their minds, how they count
numbers, how they begin to solve problems in mental arithmetic: I
tried them all. Then I thought of a new one, which is really
excellent, and which I recommend to the whole world.
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