By being sententious
here, I got sherry, which I dislike, instead of ale which I like,
and should have to pay more for what was disagreeable, than I
should have had to pay for what was agreeable. Yet I had merely
echoed the poet's words in calling for a pint and chop, so after
all the poet was to blame for both mistakes. But perhaps he meant
that I should drink sherry at his house, and when he advised me to
call for a pint, he meant a pint of sherry. But the maid had said
he kept a pot-house, and no pot-houses have wine-licences; but the
maid after all might be an envious baggage, and no better than she
should be. But what was now to be done? Why, clearly make the
best of the matter, eat the chop and leave the sherry. So I
commenced eating the chop, which was by this time nearly cold.
After eating a few morsels I looked at the sherry: "I may as well
take a glass," said I. So with a wry face I poured myself out a
glass.
"What detestable stuff!" said I, after I had drunk it. "However,
as I shall have to pay for it I may as well go through with it."
So I poured myself out another glass, and by the time I had
finished the chop I had finished the sherry also.
And now what was I to do next? Why, my best advice seemed to be to
pay my bill and depart.
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