Roderick demanded to know the particulars, on which the old man got up, muttering, “Ay, ay, let us see the particulars: that’s but reasonable”; and, taking pen, ink, and paper, wrote:
| s. | d. | |
| To bread and beer, | 0 | 6 |
| To a fowl and sausages, | 2 | 6 |
| To four bottles of quadrim, | 2 | 0 |
| To fire and tobacco, | 0 | 7 |
| To lodging, | 2 | 0 |
| To breakfast, | 1 | 0 |
| 8 | 7 |
As he had not the appearance of a common publican, Roderick could not upbraid him as he deserved, simply remarking that he was sure he had not learned from Horace to be an extortioner. To which the landlord replied that his only aim was to live contentus parvo, and keep off importuna pauperies.
Strap was indignant. He swore their host should either take one-third or go without; but Roderick, seeing the daughter go out and return with two stout fellows, with whom to frighten them, thought it politic to pay what was asked.
It was a doleful walk they had that day. In the evening they overtook the wagon, and it is here, and in the following scenes, that we get an excellent description of the cheap road travel of that era.
Strap mounted first into the wagon, but retired, dismayed, at a tremendous voice which issued from its depths, with the words, “Fire and fury! there shall no passengers come here.” These words came from Captain Weazel, one of the most singular characters to be found in Smollett’s pages.
Joey, the wagoner, was not afraid of the captain, and called out, with a sneer: “Waunds, coptain, whay woan’t you soofer the poor wagoneer to make a penny? Coom, coom, young man, get oop, get oop; never moind the coptain.”
“Blood and thunder! where’s my sword?” exclaimed the man of war, when the two eventually fell, rather than climbed, into the wagon’s dark recesses, and incidentally on to his stomach.
“What’s the matter, my dear?” asked a female voice.
“The matter?” replied the captain; “my guts are squeezed into a pancake by that Scotchman’s hump.” The “hump,” by the way, was poor Strap’s knapsack.