"By the way," he said, "I am going to make a balloon excursion
to-morrow. I didn't mention it to the society because these fellows gab
so. There'd be a great crowd round, and I'd only have been hampered.
When you mean work, the less you say about it beforehand the better.
That is what I have always found. Ever up in a balloon?"
"No," said Josiah, "but I should very much like to go."
He had drunk a whole tumbler of claret in honour of his distinguished
company, and, being accustomed to more moderate measure, had begun to
think going up in a balloon was after all a mere ordinary performance.
"What do you ride?" asked the captain, looking him up and down, as if
either about to measure him for a suit of clothes, or considering where
he could most advantageously plant a blow from his ox-hoof-like fist.
"A pony--at least, I used to ride a pony when I was at home: but that is
a long time ago, and I have not ridden much since."
"I mean, what do you weigh," said the captain, laughing.
"A little over ten stone."
"Is it possible! why, I pull the scales at seventeen stun. I'd give
something to be your weight. Think of the ballast you might take up with
you!"
"Is that an important thing?" Josiah asked, his old instinct of gaining
knowledge manifesting itself.
"It's simply everything.
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