Johnson was beginning to faint in his resolution;
for he said, 'If we must ride much, we shall not go; and there's an end
on't.' To-day, when he talked of _Sky_ with spirit, I said, 'Why, Sir,
you seemed to me to despond yesterday. You are a delicate Londoner;--you
are a maccaroni[263]; you can't ride.' JOHNSON. 'Sir, I shall ride
better than you. I was only afraid I should not find a horse able to
carry me.' I hoped then there would be no fear of getting through our
wild Tour.
We came to Aberdeen at half an hour past eleven. The New Inn, we were
told, was full. This was comfortless. The waiter, however, asked, if one
of our names was Boswell, and brought me a letter left at the inn: it
was from Mr. Thrale, enclosing one to Dr. Johnson[264]. Finding who I
was, we were told they would contrive to lodge us by putting us for a
night into a room with two beds. The waiter said to me in the broad
strong Aberdeenshire dialect, 'I thought I knew you by your likeness to
your father.' My father puts up at the New Inn, when on his circuit.
Little was said to-night. I was to sleep in a little press-bed in Dr.
Johnson's room. I had it wheeled out into the dining-room, and there I
lay very well.
SUNDAY, AUGUST 22.
I sent a message to Professor Thomas Gordon, who came and breakfasted
with us. He had secured seats for us at the English chapel.
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