Vol.1 f.037 recto

it seemed for a sober man to be plodding wearily along through miry roads, encountering the rude buffets of the wind and pelting of the rain, when there was a clean floor covered with crisp white sand, a well swept hearth, a blazing fire, a table decorated with white cloth, bright pewter flagons, and other tempting preparations for a well-cooked meal[dash]when there were these things, and company disposed to make the most of them, all ready to his hand, and entreating him to enjoyment!

[Chapter 3]

Such were the locksmith's thoughts when first seated in the snug corner, and slowly recovering from a pleasant defect of vision -- pleasant, because occasioned by the wind blowing in his eyes -- which made it a matter of sound policy and duty to himself, that he should take refuge from the weather, and tempted him, for the same reason, to aggravate a slight cough, and declare he felt but poorly. Such were still his thoughts more than a full hour afterwards, when, supper over, he still sat with shining jovial face in the same warm nook, listening to the cricket-like chirrup of little Solomon Daisy, and bearing no unimportant or slightly respected part in the social gossip round the Maypole fire.
" I wish he may be an honest man, that's all," said Solomon, winding up a variety of speculations relative to the stranger, concerning whom Gabriel had compared notes with the company, and so raised a grave discussion; "[1I]1 wish he may be an honest man."
" So we all do, I suppose, don't we?" observed the