"Are you going to the Anti-muffs?"
"Yes; why? are you going too?"
"Yes; do you mind our going together?"
"Not at all."
In fact, Eric was very glad of some one--no matter who--to keep him in countenance, for he felt considerably more than half ashamed of himself.
They went to "The Jolly Herring," as the pot-house was called, and passed through the dingy beery tap-room into the back parlor, to which Eric had already been introduced by Wildney. About a dozen boys were assembled, and there was a great clapping on the table as the two new-comers entered. A long table was laid down the room, which was regularly spread for dinner.
"Now then, Billy; make haste with the goose," called Brigson. "I vote, boys, that Eric Williams takes the chair."
"Hear! hear!" said half a dozen; and Eric, rather against his will, found himself ensconced at the end of the table, with Brigson and Bull on either hand. The villainous-low-foreheaded man, whom they called Billy, soon brought in a tough goose at one end of the table, and some fowls at the other; and they fell to, doing ample justice to the [Greek: daiz heisae] while Billy waited on them. There was immense uproar during the dinner, every one eating as fast, and talking as loud, as he could.
The birds soon vanished, and were succeeded by long rolly-polly puddings, which the boys called Goliahs; and they, too, rapidly disappeared. Meanwhile beer was circling only too plentifully.
"Now for the dessert, Billy," called several voices; and that worthy proceeded to put on the table some figs, cakes, oranges, and four black bottles of wine. There was a general grab for these dainties, and one boy shouted, "I say, I've had no wine."