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Borrow, George Henry, 1803-1881

"The Romany Rye"

So, as
we were drinking and discoursing, up drove the chariot of the
Scotchman, and down got his valet and the driver, and whilst the
driver was seeing after the horses, the valet came and sat down at
the table where the gentleman's coachman and I were drinking. I
knew the fellow well, a Scotchman like his master, and just of the
same kidney, with white kid gloves, red hair frizzled, a patch of
paint on his face, and his hands covered with rings. This very
fellow, I must tell you, was one of those most busy in endeavouring
to get me turned out of the servants' club in Park Lane, because I
happened to serve a literary man; so he sat down, and in a kind of
affected tone cried out, 'Landlord, bring me a glass of cold
negus.' The landlord, however, told him that there was no negus,
but that if he pleased, he could have a jug of as good beer as any
in the country. 'Confound the beer,' said the valet, 'do you think
that I am accustomed to such vulgar beverage?' However, as he
found there was nothing better to be had, he let the man bring him
some beer, and when he had got it, soon showed that he could drink
it easily enough; so, when he had drunk two or three draughts, he
turned his eyes in a contemptuous manner, first, on the coachman,
and then on me: I saw the scamp recollected me, for after staring
at me and my dress for about half a minute, he put on a broad grin,
and flinging his head back, he uttered a loud laugh.


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