us, indeed, of such--Marry come up!"
and with a toss of her head, higher than any she had hitherto given, she
bounced out of the room.

Here was a pretty affair! I had entered the house and ordered the chop
and pint in the belief that by so doing I was patronising the poet, and
lo, I was not in the poet's house, and my order would benefit a person
for whom, however respectable and religious, I cared not one rush.
Moreover, the pint which I had ordered appeared in the guise not of ale,
which I am fond of, but of sherry, for which I have always entertained a
sovereign contempt, as a silly, sickly compound, the use of which will
transform a nation, however bold and warlike by nature, into a race of
sketchers, scribblers, and punsters, in fact into what Englishmen are at
the present day. But who was to blame? Why, who but the poet and
myself? The poet ought to have told me that there were two houses in
L--- bearing the sign of the --- Arms, and that I must fight shy of the
hotel and steer for the pot-house, and when I gave the order I certainly
ought to have been a little more explicit; when I said a pint I ought to
have added--of ale. Sententiousness is a fine thing sometimes, but not
always. By being sententious here, I got sherry, which I dislike,
instead of ale which I like, and should have to pay more for what was
disagreeable, than I should have had to pay for what was agreeable. Yet
I had merely echoed the poet's words in calling for a pint and chop, so
after all the poet was to blame for both mistakes. But perhaps he meant
that I should drink sherry at his house, and when he advised me to call
for a pint, he meant a pint of sherry. But the maid had said he kept a
pot-house, and no pot-houses have wine-licences; but the maid after all
might be an envious baggage, and no better than she should be. But what
was now to be done? Why, clearly make the best of the matter, eat the
chop and leave the sherry. So I commenced eating the chop, which was by
this time nearly cold. After eating a few morsels I looked at the
sherry: "I may as well take a glass," said I. So with a wry face I
poured myself out a glass.

"What detestable stuff!" said I, after I had drunk it. "However, as I
shall have to pay for it I may as well go through with it." So I poured
myself out another glass, and by the time I had finished the chop I had
finished the sherry also.

And now what was I to do next? Why, my best advice seemed to