"You tell worse men than yourself to do your dirty work," replied the sexton. "Do you think I'm a powder monkey that I should fetch and carry Missus Waggetts for you? Fetch her yourself, or send old fat-sides there," he added, jerking his thumb at the bo'sun, "or that dear old white-haired admiral wot's lost his yellow ear-flaps. As for me, I'm a-goin' to the Court House, and if you don't know what for, you'll soon learn—you and old fat-sides." The bo'sun made a grab at him, but Mipps slipped through the crowded bar and was running up the highroad.
The captain now stepped into the bar. Order was at once restored. "Now, ma'am," he said to Mrs. Waggetts, "while the bo'sun is seeing that your score is paid, give me a bottle of wine."
"Port or claret, sir?" said the landlady.
"Neither," said the captain. "I have a fancy to try a bottle of Alsatian. Yes, a white wine from Alsace Lorraine."
But before the captain had time to smack his lips Mrs. Waggetts replied: "Oh, we don't keep that, sir."
"No?" queried the captain.
"No, indeed, sir," said the landlady. "You see there's no call for it in these parts. And then the customs are so high we couldn't afford to stock it for the few and far betweens as might ask for it. Why, for my own part, sir, though I've been in the business these—well, many years now, I've never even heard of it."
