the fruit stall, Poldik only occasionally recollected this halting place, turned aside to the little booth and shouted at the door “Two.” This had divers meanings according to the season of the year; either two kreutzer’s worth of cherries or pears, of plums or apples—or when there were none of these delicacies to be found at the stall—two kreutzer’s worth of brandy. Here, perhaps, for the sake of completeness I ought to detail what happened at the tobacconist’s. But Poldik frequently filled his pipe at the fruit stall and struck a light, and then it appeared to him that the world was better by a whole pipe of tobacco.
I do not pretend to enter into the sentiments of horses, but even Poldik’s horses saw the world in a better light after these halts, because they had a moment’s rest and quiet. They knew these modest stations well, and perhaps said to themselves, “There, if all be well, we shall enjoy another rest.”
I paint these horses for you, though you have seen them a hundred times; but they are indispensible for a proper understanding of my hero; although you have seen him also a hundred times. I do not know their life-history: they may have formed part of some grand turn-out: perhaps they had once served in a campaign, perhaps they were victorious with the heroes who rode them, perhaps with the same they beat an ignominious retreat. Now, they were horses because the Lord God had created them
