ready.
There never was a more jolly evening. Ale and punch were as plenty
as water. The actors saw what a vain fellow was feasting them, and
as they wanted victuals and he wanted flattery, the business was
soon settled. They ate, and Brown sung. They pretended to be in
raptures. Singing promoted drinking, and every fresh glass produced
a new song or a story still more merry than the former. Before
morning, the players, who were engaged to act in another barn a
dozen miles off, stole away quietly. Brown having dropt asleep, they
left him to finish his nap by himself. As to him his dreams were gay
and pleasant, and the house being quite still, he slept comfortably
till morning.

As soon as he had breakfasted, the business of the night before
popped into his head. He set off once more to his landlord's in high
spirits, gayly singing by the way, scraps of all the tunes he had
picked up the night before from his new friends. The landlord opened
the door himself, and reproached him with no small surliness for not
having kept his word with him the evening before, adding, that he
supposed he was come now with some more of his shallow excuses.
Brown put on all that haughtiness which is common to people who,
being generally apt to be in the wrong, happen to catch themselves
doing a right action; he looked big, as some sort of people do when
they have money to pay. "You need not have been so anxious about
your money," said he, "I was not going to break or run away." The
landlord well knew this was the common language of those who are
ready to do both. Brown haughtily added, "You shall see I am a man
of my word; give me a receipt." The landlord had it ready and gave
it him.

Brown put his hand in his pocket for his black leathern case in
which the bills were; he felt, he searched, he examined, first one
pocket, then the other; then both waistcoat pockets, but no leather
case could he find. He looked terrified. It was indeed the face of
real terror, but the landlord conceived it to be that of guilt, and
abused him heartily for putting his old tricks upon him; he swore he
would not be imposed upon any longer; the money or a jail--there lay
his choice.

Brown protested for once with great truth that he had no intention
to deceive; declared that he had actually brought the money, and
knew not what was become of it; but the thing was far too unlikely
to gain credit. Brown now called to mind that he had fallen asleep
on the settle