Galloping Dick
the glass with an oath. “’Tis so, by Heaven,” I said; “cold harsh stuff and biting to the vitals.” And I sprang at the door to call upon mine host.
“I felt,” explained the Bishop politely, “that some point was askew in a dinner else so perfect.”
I roared to the landlord, who came falling up the stairs in his fuss and fright. I took him in by the shoulders and drubbed him with round abuse. “Perish my soul,” I cried, “you filthy tapster, to fub off upon the Bishop and me, this griping verjuice, that is fit not even for a surfeit of swine! Are we gutter hogs,” I said, “to swill on swipes and sour the edges of our teeth on vinegar? And his lordship there of as delicate a stomach as any lady in the straw!”
There was never a wretch made so mean a figure as the rascal when I had him by the collar under this storm; but the Bishop said nothing till the fool was got off, shambling in a fit of terror, to his cellars. Then he lay back and looked at me very mildly.
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