"No, your honour," he replied, "I am only the waiter, but I
officiate for my master in all things; my master has great
confidence in me, sir."
"And I have no doubt," said I, "that he could not place his
confidence in any one more worthy."
With a bow yet lower than the preceding one the waiter replied with
a smirk and a grimace, "Thanks, your honour, for your good opinion.
I assure your honour that I am deeply obliged."
His air, manner, and even accent, were so like those of a
Frenchman, that I could not forbear asking him whether he was one.
He shook his head and replied, "No, your honour, no, I am not a
Frenchman, but a native of this poor country, Tom Jenkins by name."
"Well," said I, "you really look and speak like a Frenchman, but no
wonder; the Welsh and French are much of the same blood. Please
now to show me into the parlour."
He opened the door of a large apartment, placed a chair by a table
which stood in the middle, and then, with another bow, requested to
know my farther pleasure. After ordering dinner I said that as I
was thirsty I should like to have some ale forthwith.
"Ale you shall have, your honour," said Tom, "and some of the best
ale that can be drunk. This house is famous for ale."
"I suppose you get your ale from Llangollen," said I, "which is
celebrated for its ale over Wales."
"Get our ale from Llangollen?" said Tom, with sneer of contempt,
"no, nor anything else. As for the ale it was brewed in this house
by your honour's humble servant."
"Oh," said I, "if you brewed it, it must of course be good. Pray
bring me some immediately, for I am anxious to drink ale of your
brewing."
"Your honour shall be obeyed," said Tom, and disappearing returned
in a twinkling with a tray on which stood a jug filled with liquor
and a glass. He forthwith filled the glass, and pointing to its
contents said:
"There, your honour, did you ever see such ale? Observe its
colour! Does it not look for all the world as pale and delicate as
cowslip wine?"
"I wish it may not taste like cowslip wine," said I; "to tell you
the truth, I am no particular admirer of ale that looks pale and
delicate; for I always think there is no strength in it."
"Taste it, your honour," said Tom, "and tell me if you ever tasted
such ale."
I tasted it, and then took a copious draught. The ale was indeed
admirable, equal to the best that I had ever before drunk - rich
and mellow, with scarcely any smack of the hop in it, and though so
pale and delicate to the eye nearly as strong as brandy.
