‘He came in here,’ said the waiter, looking at the light through the tumbler, ‘ordered a glass of this ale — WOULD order it — I told him not — drank it, and fell dead.

It was too old for him. It oughtn’t to be drawn; that’s the fact.’

I was very much shocked to hear of this melancholy accident, and said I thought I had better have some water.

‘Why you see,’ said the waiter, still looking at the light through the tumbler, with one of his eyes shut up, ‘our people don’t like things being ordered and left. It offends ‘em. But I’ll drink it, if you like.

I’m used to it, and use is everything. I don’t think it’ll hurt me, if I throw my head back, and take it off quick. Shall I?’