d a well-sanded kitchen, and seated myself on a bench, on one
side of a long white table; the other side, which was nearest to the
wall, was occupied by a party, or rather family, consisting of a
grimy-looking man, somewhat under the middle size, dressed in faded
velveteens, and wearing a leather apron--a rather pretty-looking woman,
but sunburnt, and meanly dressed, and two ragged children, a boy and
girl, about four or five years old. The man sat with his eyes fixed upon
the table, supporting his chin with both his hands; the woman, who was
next him, sat quite still, save that occasionally she turned a glance
upon her husband with eyes that appeared to have been lately crying. The
children had none of the vivacity so general at their age. A more
disconsolate family I had never seen; a mug, which, when filled, might
contain half a pint, stood empty before them; a very disconsolate party
indeed.

'House!' said I; 'House!' and then, as nobody appeared, I cried again as
loud as I could, 'House! do you hear me, House!'

'What's your pleasure, young man?' said an elderly woman, who now made
her appearance from a side apartment.

'To taste your ale,' said I.

'How much?' said the woman, stretching out her hand towards the empty mug
upon the table.

'The largest measure-full in your house,' said I, putting back her hand
gently. 'This is not the season for half-pint mugs.'

'As you will, young man,' said the landlady; and presently brought in an
earthen pitcher which might contain about three pints, and which foamed
and frothed withal.

'Will this pay for it?' said I, putting down sixpence.

'I have to return you a penny,' said the landlady, putting her hand into
her pocket.

'I want no change,' said I, flourishing my hand with an air.

'As you please, young gentleman,' said the landlady, and then, making a
kind of curtsey, she again retired to the side apartment.

'Here is your health, sir,' said I to the grimy-looking man, as I raised
the pitcher to my lips.

The tinker, for such I supposed him to be, without altering his posture,
raised his eyes, looked at me for a moment, gave a slight nod, and then
once more fixed his eyes upon the table. I took a draught of the ale,
which I found excellent; 'Won't you drink?' said I, holding the pitcher
to the tinker.

[Picture: The bar of the gate]

The man again lifted up his eyes, looked at me, and then at the pitcher,
and then at me again.