You see two rows of shoulders resolutely set for action: heads in divers degrees of proximity to their plates: eyes variously twinkling, or hypocritically composed: chaps in vigorous exercise.

Now leans a fellow right back with his whole face to the firmament: Ale is his adoration.

He sighs not till he sees the end of the mug.

Now from one a laugh is sprung; but, as if too early tapped, he turns off the cock, and primes himself anew.

Occupied by their own requirements, these Britons allow that their neighbours have rights: no cursing at waste of time is heard when plates have to be passed: disagreeable, it is still duty.