In single file these mourners entered the publican's house, where Kilne, after summoning them from behind the bar, on the important question, what it should be?
and receiving, first, perfect acquiescence in his views as to what it should be, and then feeble suggestions of the drink best befitting that early hour and the speaker's particular constitution, poured out a toothful to each, and one to himself.
'Here's to him, poor fellow!' said Kilne; and was deliberately echoed twice.
'Now, it wasn't that,' Kilne pursued, pointing to the bottle in the midst of a smacking of lips, 'that wasn't what got him into difficulties.

It was expensive luckshries.

It was being above his condition.

Horses! What's a tradesman got to do with horses?
Unless he's retired! Then he's a gentleman, and can do as he likes.

It's no use trying to be a gentleman if you can't pay for it.