The Romany Rye: a sequel to "Lavengro"Borrow, George
General
The Romany Rye: a sequel to "Lavengro"
Borrow, George
Adventure stories; England -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction
The people of the inn were very sorry on being informed of my
determination to depart. Old Bill told me that he had hoped as how I had
intended to settle down there, and to take his place as ostler when he
was fit for no more work, adding, that though I did not know much of the
business, yet he had no doubt but that I might improve. My friend the
postillion was particularly sorry, and taking me with him to the tap-room
called for two pints of beer, to one of which he treated me; and whilst
we were drinking told me how particularly sorry he was at the thought of
my going, but that he hoped I should think better of the matter. On my
telling him that I must go, he said that he trusted I should put off my
departure for three weeks, in order that I might be present at his
marriage, the banns of which were just about to be published. He said
that nothing would give him greater pleasure than to see me dance a
minuet with his wife after the marriage dinner; but I told him it was
impossible that I should stay, my affairs imperatively calling me
elsewhere; and that with respect to my dancing a minuet, such a thing was
out of the question, as I had never learned to dance. At which he said
that he was exceedingly sorry, and finding me determined to go, wished me
success in all my undertakings.
The master of the house, to whom, as in duty bound, I communicated my
intention before I spoke of it to the servants, was, I make no doubt,
very sorry, though he did not exactly tell me so. What he said was, that
he had never expected that I should remain long there, as such a
situation never appeared to him quite suitable to me, though I had been
very diligent, and had given him perfect satisfaction. On his inquiring
when I intended to depart, I informed him next day, whereupon he begged
that I would defer my departure till the next day but one, and do him the
favour of dining with him on the morrow. I informed him that I should be
only too happy.
On the following day at four o'clock I dined with the landlord, in
company with a commercial traveller. The dinner was good, though plain,
consisting of boiled mackerel--rather a rarity in those parts at that
time--with fennel sauce, a prime baron of roast beef after the mackerel,
then a tart and noble Cheshire cheese; we had prime sherry at dinner, and
whilst eating the cheese prime porter, that of Barclay, the only good
porter in the world. After the cloth was removed we had a bottle of very
good port; and whilst partaking of the port I had an argument with the
commercial traveller on the subject of the corn-laws.
The commercial traveller, having worsted me in the argument on the
subject of the corn-laws, got up in great glee, saying that he must order
his gig, as business must be attended to. Before leaving the room,
however, he shook me patronisingly by the hand, and said something to the
master of the house, but in so low a tone that it escaped my ear.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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