The ale which was brought was not ale
which I am particularly fond of.
The ale which I am fond of is ale
about nine or ten months old, somewhat hard, tasting well of malt
and little of the hop - ale such as farmers, and noblemen too, of
the good old time, when farmers' daughters did not play on pianos
and noblemen did not sell their game, were in the habit of offering
to both high and low, and drinking themselves. The ale which was
brought me was thin washy stuff, which though it did not taste much
of hop, tasted still less of malt, made and sold by one Allsopp,
who I am told calls himself a squire and a gentleman - as he
certainly may with quite as much right as many a lord calls himself
a nobleman and a gentleman; for surely it is not a fraction more
trumpery to make and sell ale than to fatten and sell game. The
ale of the Saxon squire, for Allsopp is decidedly an old Saxon
name, however unakin to the practice of old Saxon squires the
selling of ale may be, was drinkable for it was fresh, and the day,
as I have said before, exceedingly hot; so I took frequent draughts
out of the shining metal tankard in which it was brought,
deliberating both whilst drinking, and in the intervals of
drinking, on what I had next best do. I had some thoughts of
crossing to the northern side of the bay, then, bearing the north-
east, wend my way to Amlwch, follow the windings of the sea-shore
to Mathafarn eithaf and Pentraeth Coch, and then return to Bangor,
after which I could boast that I had walked round the whole of
Anglesey, and indeed trodden no inconsiderable part of the way
twice.
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