Book One - Chapter 12 The One-Legged Soldier

Following the high road, I came, in a little, to where the ways
divided, the one leading straight before me, the other turning
sharp to the left, where (as I remember) is a very steep hill.

And at the parting of the ways was a finger-post with the words:
"To LONDON. To TONBRIDGE WELLS. To PEMBRY." Now as I stood
beneath the finger-post, debating which road I should take, I was
aware of the sound of wheels, and, glancing about, saw a carrier's
cart approaching. The driver was a fine, tall, ruddy-faced fellow,
very spruce as to his person, who held himself with shoulders.
squared and bolt upright, and who shouted a cheery greeting to me.

"If so be you are for Pembry, or thereabouts, sir," said he,
bringing his horses to a standstill, "why, jump up, sir--that is,
if you be so minded."

"My course lies anywhere," said I.

"Then--if you be so minded--?"

"I am so minded," said I.

"Then, sir, jump up," said he.

"Thanks!" said I.

So I climbed upon the seat beside him, and then I saw that he had
a wooden leg, and straightway understood his smart bearing, and
general neat appearance.

"You have been a soldier?" said I.

"And my name's Tom, and I could tell you a sight about them
Spanishers, and Frenchies--that is, if--you be so minded?"