The Broad Highway

Talking thus, we presently reached a stile beyond which the

footpath led away through swaying corn and by shady hopgarden, to

Sissinghurst village. Here the Preacher stopped and gave me his

hand, but I noticed he still puffed at his pipe.

"And you are now a blacksmith?"

"And mightily content so to be."

"You are a most strange young man!" said the Preacher, shaking

his head.

"Many people have told me the same, sir," said I, and vaulted

over the stile. Yet, turning back when I had gone some way, I

saw him leaning where I had left him, and with his pipe still in

his mouth.