I hope it
will not be long before I see you at another public dinner at
Wolverhampton, and hear another speech from you as good as the
last." In a minute or two I heard them drive off. Left to myself
I began to discuss my dinner. Of the dinner I had nothing to
complain, but the ale which accompanied it was very bad. This was
the more mortifying, for, remembering the excellent ale I had drunk
at Bala some months previously, I had, as I came along the gloomy
roads the present evening, been promising myself a delicious treat
on my arrival.
"This is very bad ale!" said I to the freckled maid, "very
different from what I drank in the summer, when I was waited on by
Tom Jenkins."
"It is the same ale, sir," said the maid, "but the last in the
cask; and we shan't have any more for six months, when he will come
again to brew for the summer; but we have very good porter, sir,
and first-rate Allsopp."
"Allsopp's ale," said I, "will do for July and August, but scarcely
for the end of October. However, bring me a pint; I prefer it at
all times to porter."
My dinner concluded, I trifled away my time till about ten o'clock,
and then went to bed.
