He waxed exceeding bitter, and said that he had been missing shillings for a long time.
"You're labourin' under a mistake, Sam," said the first speaker.
Mr.Wilks laughed scornfully and essayed a sneer, while his friends, regarding his contortions with some anxiety, expressed a fear that he was not quite himself.

To this suggestion the steward deigned no reply, and turning to the landlord bade him replenish his mug.
"You've 'ad enough, Mr.Wilks," said that gentleman, who had been watching him for some time.
Mr.Wilks, gazing at him mistily, did not at first understand the full purport of this remark; but when he did, his wrath was so majestic and his remarks about the quality of the brew so libellous that the landlord lost all patience.
"You get off home," he said, sharply.
"Listen t' me," said Mr.Wilks, impressively.
"I don't want no words with you," said the land-lord.

"You get off home while you can." "That's right, Sam," said one of the company, putting his hand on the steward's arm.

"You take his advice." Mr.Wilks shook the hand off and eyed his adviser ferociously.

Then he took a glass from the counter and smashed it on the floor.