[Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens]@TWC D-Link bookBarnaby Rudge CHAPTER 31 3/23
But as he ordered breakfast to be got ready with all speed, and on its being set before him gave indisputable tokens of a hearty appetite, the Lion received him, as usual, with a hospitable welcome; and treated him with those marks of distinction, which, as a regular customer, and one within the freemasonry of the trade, he had a right to claim. This Lion or landlord,--for he was called both man and beast, by reason of his having instructed the artist who painted his sign, to convey into the features of the lordly brute whose effigy it bore, as near a counterpart of his own face as his skill could compass and devise,--was a gentleman almost as quick of apprehension, and of almost as subtle a wit, as the mighty John himself.
But the difference between them lay in this: that whereas Mr Willet's extreme sagacity and acuteness were the efforts of unassisted nature, the Lion stood indebted, in no small amount, to beer; of which he swigged such copious draughts, that most of his faculties were utterly drowned and washed away, except the one great faculty of sleep, which he retained in surprising perfection. The creaking Lion over the house-door was, therefore, to say the truth, rather a drowsy, tame, and feeble lion; and as these social representatives of a savage class are usually of a conventional character (being depicted, for the most part, in impossible attitudes and of unearthly colours), he was frequently supposed by the more ignorant and uninformed among the neighbours, to be the veritable portrait of the host as he appeared on the occasion of some great funeral ceremony or public mourning. 'What noisy fellow is that in the next room ?' said Joe, when he had disposed of his breakfast, and had washed and brushed himself. 'A recruiting serjeant,' replied the Lion. Joe started involuntarily.
Here was the very thing he had been dreaming of, all the way along. 'And I wish,' said the Lion, 'he was anywhere else but here.
The party make noise enough, but don't call for much.
There's great cry there, Mr Willet, but very little wool.
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