# The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews and his Friend, Mr. Abraham Abrams/Book I, Chapter XI

CHAPTER XI.
_Of several new matters not expected._
It is an observation sometimes made, that to indicate our idea of a
simple fellow, we say, he is easily to be seen through: nor do I believe
it a more improper denotation of a simple book. Instead of applying this
to any particular performance, we chuse rather to remark the contrary in
this history, where the scene opens itself by small degrees; and he is a
sagacious reader who can see two chapters before him.
For this reason, we have not hitherto hinted a matter which now seems
necessary to be explained; since it may be wondered at, first, that
Joseph made such extraordinary haste out of town, which hath been
already shewn; and secondly, which will be now shewn, that, instead of
proceeding to the habitation of his father and mother, or to his beloved
sister Pamela, he chose rather to set out full speed to the Lady Booby's
country-seat, which he had left on his journey to London.
Be it known, then, that in the same parish where this seat stood there
lived a young girl whom Joseph (though the best of sons and brothers)
longed more impatiently to see than his parents or his sister. She was a
poor girl, who had formerly been bred up in Sir John's family; whence, a
little before the journey to London, she had been discarded by Mrs
Slipslop, on account of her extraordinary beauty: for I never could find
any other reason.
This young creature (who now lived with a farmer in the parish) had been
always beloved by Joseph, and returned his affection. She was two years
only younger than our hero. They had been acquainted from their infancy,
and had conceived a very early liking for each other; which had grown to
such a degree of affection, that Mr Adams had with much ado prevented
them from marrying, and persuaded them to wait till a few years' service
and thrift had a little improved their experience, and enabled them to
live comfortably together.
They followed this good man's advice, as indeed his word was little less
than a law in his parish; for as he had shown his parishioners, by an
uniform behaviour of thirty-five years' duration, that he had their good
entirely at heart, so they consulted him on every occasion, and very
seldom acted contrary to his opinion.
Nothing can be imagined more tender than was the parting between these
two lovers. A thousand sighs heaved the bosom of Joseph, a thousand
tears distilled from the lovely eyes of Fanny (for that was her name).
Though her modesty would only suffer her to admit his eager kisses, her
violent love made her more than passive in his embraces; and she often
pulled him to her breast with a soft pressure, which though perhaps it
would not have squeezed an insect to death, caused more emotion in the
heart of Joseph than the closest Cornish hug could have done.
The reader may perhaps wonder that so fond a pair should, during a
twelvemonth's absence, never converse with one another: indeed, there
was but one reason which did or could have prevented them; and this was,
that poor Fanny could neither write nor read: nor could she be prevailed
upon to transmit the delicacies of her tender and chaste passion by the
hands of an amanuensis.
They contented themselves therefore with frequent inquiries after each
other's health, with a mutual confidence in each other's fidelity, and
the prospect of their future happiness.
Having explained these matters to our reader, and, as far as possible,
satisfied all his doubts, we return to honest Joseph, whom we left just
set out on his travels by the light of the moon.
Those who have read any romance or poetry, antient or modern, must have
been informed that love hath wings: by which they are not to understand,
as some young ladies by mistake have done, that a lover can fly; the
writers, by this ingenious allegory, intending to insinuate no more than
that lovers do not march like horse-guards; in short, that they put the
best leg foremost; which our lusty youth, who could walk with any man,
did so heartily on this occasion, that within four hours he reached a
famous house of hospitality well known to the western traveller. It
presents you a lion on the sign-post: and the master, who was christened
Timotheus, is commonly called plain Tim. Some have conceived that he
hath particularly chosen the lion for his sign, as he doth in
countenance greatly resemble that magnanimous beast, though his
disposition savours more of the sweetness of the lamb. He is a person
well received among all sorts of men, being qualified to render himself
agreeable to any; as he is well versed in history and politics, hath a
smattering in law and divinity, cracks a good jest, and plays
wonderfully well on the French horn.
A violent storm of hail forced Joseph to take shelter in this inn, where
he remembered Sir Thomas had dined in his way to town. Joseph had no
sooner seated himself by the kitchen fire than Timotheus, observing his
livery, began to condole the loss of his late master; who was, he said,
his very particular and intimate acquaintance, with whom he had cracked
many a merry bottle, ay many a dozen, in his time. He then remarked,
that all these things were over now, all passed, and just as if they had
never been; and concluded with an excellent observation on the certainty
of death, which his wife said was indeed very true. A fellow now arrived
at the same inn with two horses, one of which he was leading farther
down into the country to meet his master; these he put into the stable,
and came and took his place by Joseph's side, who immediately knew him
to be the servant of a neighbouring gentleman, who used to visit at
their house.
This fellow was likewise forced in by the storm; for he had orders to go
twenty miles farther that evening, and luckily on the same road which
Joseph himself intended to take. He, therefore, embraced this
opportunity of complimenting his friend with his master's horse
(notwithstanding he had received express commands to the contrary),
which was readily accepted; and so, after they had drank a loving pot,
and the storm was over, they set out together.