The landlord, in this case, was not above making a small profit, and as soon as we came to terms he rang the yard-bell to order the gig.
"Has Robert not come back from that errand ?" asked the landlord, appealing to the waiter who answered the bell.
"No, sir, he hasn't." "Well, then, you must wake up Isaac." "Wake up Isaac!" I repeated; "that sounds rather odd.

Do your hostlers go to bed in the daytime ?" "This one does," said the landlord, smiling to himself in rather a strange way.
"And dreams too," added the waiter; "I shan't forget the turn it gave me the first time I heard him." "Never you mind about that," retorted the proprietor; "you go and rouse Isaac up.

The gentleman's waiting for his gig." The landlord's manner and the waiter's manner expressed a great deal more than they either of them said.

I began to suspect that I might be on the trace of something professionally interesting to me as a medical man, and I thought I should like to look at the hostler before the waiter awakened him.
"Stop a minute," I interposed; "I have rather a fancy for seeing this man before you wake him up.

I'm a doctor; and if this queer sleeping and dreaming of his comes from anything wrong in his brain, I may be able to tell you what to do with him." "I rather think you will find his complaint past all doctoring, sir," said the landlord; "but, if you would like to see him, you're welcome, I'm sure." He led the way across a yard and down a passage to the stables, opened one of the doors, and, waiting outside himself, told me to look in.
I found myself in a two-stall stable.