"Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. I got three pounds, and there’s three on my watch. "Why, what the devil would you have had me do!—make myself scarce, eh? You should have tipped me the wink. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke.
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