Give me the punch-ladle—I'll fathom the bowl.
Then he called to the united assembly, "What say you all—shall we have a punch-bowl? Nem. con. Carried. That is it which lacked to establish sweetest concord. Landlord! Bring us the needful, and we'll brew."
From France cometh brandy, Jamaica gives rum,
Sweet oranges, lemons from Portugal come.
Of ale and good cyder we'll also take toll,
Give me the punch-ladle—I'll fathom the bowl.
The host called to his wife to produce the requisite ingredients, and went in quest of the ladle, which he kept upstairs, as it had a silver piece of Charles I. let into it.
"I ax," said one of the miners, throwing out his arm as if proclaiming defiance, "how it came about that London was burnt? Warn't them Poperies seen a doing of it—a firing it in several places?"
"And Sir Edmondbury Godfrey—weren't he cruelly and bloodily murdered by 'em?" asked the second.
"Ay! and whose doing is it that that worthy gentleman, my Lord Russell, has been done to death? That every one knows. 'Tis said the Earl of Bedford offered a hundred thousand pounds to save his life; but the Catholic Duke would not hear of his being spared. And the Duke of York will be King after his present Gracious Majesty. By heavens! I would draw sword for the Protestant Duke and swear to his legitimacy."