"Certainly, Sir, with the biggest pleasure," said mine host: "but you
must first try my dame's butter and eggs. It is time to breakfast."

We may suppose that Walter's simple meal was soon over; and growing
impatient and restless to commence his inquiries, he descended from his
solitary apartment to the little back-room behind the bar, in which he
had, on the night before, seen mine host and his better-half at supper.
It was a sung, small, wainscoated room; fishing-rods were neatly
arranged against the wall, which was also decorated by a portrait of
the landlord himself, two old Dutch pictures of fruit and game, a long,
quaint-fashioned fowling-piece, and, opposite the fireplace, a noble
stag's head and antlers. On the window-seat lay the Izaak Walton to
which the old man had referred; the Family Bible, with its green baize
cover, and the frequent marks peeping out from its venerable pages; and,
close nestling to it, recalling that beautiful sentence, "suffer the
little children to come unto me, and forbid them not," several of those
little volumes with gay bindings, and marvellous contents of fay and
giant, which delight the hearth-spelled urchin, and which were "the
source of golden hours" to the old man's grandchildren, in their respite
from "learning's little tenements,"

"Where sits the dame, disguised in look profound,
And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel around."
--[Shenstone's Schoolmistress.]

Mine host was still employed by a huge brown loaf and some baked pike;
and mine hostess, a quiet and serene old lady, was alternately regaling
herself and a large brindled cat from a plate of "toasten cheer."

While the old man was hastily concluding his repast, a little knock at
the door was heard, and presently an elderly gentleman in black put his
head into the room, and, perceiving the stranger, would have drawn back;
but both landlady and landlord bustling up, entreated him to enter by
the appellation of Mr. Summers. And then, as the gentleman smilingly
yielded to the invitation, the landlady, turning to Walter, said: "Our
clergyman, Sir: and though I say it afore his face, there is not a
man who, if Christian vartues were considered, ought so soon to be a
bishop."

"Hush! my good lady," said Mr. Summers, laughing as he bowed to
Walter. "You see, Sir, that it is no trifling advantage to a Knaresbro'
reputation to have our hostess's good word. But, indeed," turning to the
landlady,