The crash was
horrid, and wine and particles of glass flew back into the room, to
the no small danger of its inmates. "What do you think of that?"
said the jockey; "were you ever so honoured before?" "Honoured!"
said I. "God preserve me in future from such honour;" and I put my
finger to my cheek, which was slightly hurt by a particle of the
glass. "That's the way we of the cofrady honour great men at
Horncastle," said the jockey. "What, you are hurt! never mind; all
the better; your scratch shows that you are the body the compliment
was paid to." "And what are you going to do with the other
bottle?" said I. "Do with it!" said the jockey, "why, drink it,
cosily and comfortably, whilst holding a little quiet talk. The
Romany Rye at Horncastle, what an idea!"
"And what will the master of the house say to all this damage which
you have caused him!"
"What will your master say, William?" said the jockey to the
waiter, who had witnessed the singular scene just described without
exhibiting the slightest mark of surprise. William smiled, and
slightly shrugging his shoulders, replied, "Very little, I dare
say, sir; this a'n't the first time your honour has done a thing of
this kind." "Nor will it be the first time that I shall have paid
for it," said the jockey; "well, I shall never have paid for a
certain item in the bill with more pleasure than I shall pay for it
now.
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