o_199m9vauin7s89a1ibd1tc12gd4g.pdf

14 THE king's yard
his long clay, his first pipe after the evening meal,
and'|Mrs. Mildwater was washing up the dishes.
She allowed her husband three pipes and one pot
during the evening, and this indulgence kept him out
of the Help the Lame Dog over the Stile, a sign
which was at
considerable variance with the reputation
of the pot-house, for the unhelpful influence it
exercised upon the jolly dogs who frequented
it.
It
was early winter, and the
Mildwaters, although they
had no children, and were not so poor
neighbours in
as their
consequence, would have had a better
fire in the kitchen and a second farthing candle if
the spare bedroom had been let.
Mr, Mildwater opened the door and looked
inquiringly at the stranger.
" Are you William Mildwater?" asked the man.
" So I was baptised," replied the other, as if
during
his sixty years of life he had changed
his name at
frequent intervals, which he had not.
" I came down from yonder," said the stranger,
indicating with his head some place which might be
anywhere, " came down this evening, and went to the
Lame Dog.
I want a lodging ;
the landlord said
you had one,"
"
Ah !
considering that I don't run much of a score
at the Lame Dog,
I take it
kindly
send you here. Wait till I get a light."
that he should