The people of Connecticut still remember Abraham Davenport, because he was a wise judge and a brave lawmaker. The poet Whittier has written a poem about him, which you will like to hear.
THE SURLY GUEST
One day John Randolph, of Roanoke, [Footnote: Ro'a noke.] set out on horseback to ride to a town that was many miles from his home. The road was strange to him, and he traveled very slowly.
When night came on he stopped at a pleasant roadside inn and asked for lodging. The innkeeper welcomed him kindly. He had often heard of the great John Randolph, and therefore he did all that he could to entertain him well.
A fine supper was prepared, and the innkeeper himself waited upon his guest. John Randolph ate in silence. The innkeeper spoke of the weather, of the roads, of the crops, of politics. But his surly guest said scarcely a word.
In the morning a good breakfast was served, and then Mr. Randolph made ready to start on his journey. He called for his bill and paid it. His horse was led to the door, and a servant helped him to mount it.
As he was starting away, the friendly innkeeper said, "Which way will you travel, Mr. Randolph?"
Mr. Randolph looked at him in no gentle way, and answered, "Sir!"
"I only asked which way you intend to travel," said the man.
"Oh! I have I paid you my bill?"