“The boys were thirsty, sir, so I brought up some ale and some liptrap,” whispered the landlord; “I thought you would have no objection, sir.”
“Quite right, Bob! How are you all? How are you, Maddox? How are you, Baldwin? Ah, Belcher, I am very glad to see you.”
The fighting-men rose and took their hats off, except the fellow on the table, who continued to swing his legs and to look my uncle very coolly in the face.
“How are you, Berks?”
“Pretty tidy. ’Ow are you?”
“Say ‘sir’ when you speak to a genelman,” said Belcher, and with a sudden tilt of the table he sent Berks flying almost into my uncle’s arms.
“See now, Jem, none o’ that!” said Berks, sulkily.
“I’ll learn you manners, Joe, which is more than ever your father did. You’re not drinkin’ black-jack in a boozin’ ken, but you are meetin’ noble, slap-up Corinthians, and it’s for you to behave as such.”
“I’ve always been reckoned a genelman-like sort of man,” said Berks, thickly, “but if so be as I’ve said or done what I ’adn’t ought to—”
“There, there, Berks, that’s all right!” cried my uncle, only too anxious to smooth things over and to prevent a quarrel at the outset of the evening. “Here are some more of our friends. How are you, Apreece? How are you, Colonel? Well, Jackson, you are looking vastly better. Good evening, Lade. I trust Lady Lade was none the worse for our pleasant drive. Ah, Mendoza, you look fit enough to throw your hat over the ropes this instant. Sir Lothian, I am glad to see you. You will find some old friends here.”