“Pen- something,” said one of them, who had a red face and a large carbuncle on his nose, which served to distinguish him from his companions, who though they had both very rubicund faces had no carbuncles.
“It seems rather a small place to maintain three public-houses,” said I; “how do the publicans manage to live?”
“O, tolerably well, sir; we get bread and cheese and have a groat in our pockets. No great reason to complain; have we, neighbours?”
“No! no great reason to complain,” said the other two.
“Dear me!” said I; “are you the publicans?”
“We are, sir,” said the man with the carbuncle on his nose, “and shall be each of us glad to treat you to a pint in his own house in order to welcome you to Shire Car—shan’t we, neighbours?”
“Yes, in truth we shall,” said the other two.
“By Shire Car,” said I, “I suppose you mean Shire Cardigan?”
“Shire Cardigan!” said the man; “no indeed; by Shire Car is meant Carmarthenshire. Your honour has left beggarly Cardigan some way behind you. Come, your honour, come and have a pint; this is my house,” said he, pointing to one of the buildings.
“But,” said I, “I suppose if I drink at your expense you will expect to drink at mine?”