Galloping Dick
escort over Shooter’s Hill, some miles this side of Dartford; and, having marked the spot and laid out a rude plan, I rode into Dartford itself, where I pulled up at the “Pigeons” for a pint of wine. I had no thought at the first but to wash my throat and be off, but the day was warm and the tavern mighty cool and alluring; and there I fell a-talking with a civil-mannered fellow, that was a chandler hard by. He was a comfortable old cock, of an affluent habit, and pretty well to do, as I suspected. He babbled like a mill-stream, and, being on easy terms with the landlord, soon drew him also into the conversation; so that in a little there was the three of us discoursing together just as pleasantly as though we had sung in the same quire all our days. Master Nick-and-Froth, who was an affable party, fetched out a choice bottle for his crony, and, having taken a fancy to myself, nothing will suit but I must join them. Nor was I loth, for as yet it was early, and there was a dusty road ’twixt me and our place of assignation. And that, I suppose, with the good cheer and the undisguised admiration of the two old
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