ch the Tories had sent up an appeal-Lord William forgot all about his promise to call and taste Mrs. Lebow's White Ale. It came into his mind of a sudden on the day before the Election, b

of coffee. "I've clean neglected that old lady and her brew. I suppose 'tis dreadf

privilege to taste i

bad," puts in th

ow the Dickens a

once or twice. The old lady's monstrous entertain

ye here, Dyngwall," says he, "I can't have you skirmishing on your own account in this fashion. If th

ive, need you?" says the Major, fi

a moment. "My dear fellow,"

ed at once, the two (as I

losing time." So he put it to Squire Martin: "I've a promise to keep, and tomorrow we shall b

of calling," said the Squire:

colours), and only Lally thinking to herself that scarlet and orange might, maybe, suit her complexion better-there came a knock at the door, and squi

e said, and if ever a cordial was needed it would be before sitting out one of old Parson Palsy's forty-year-old sermons. So out came the famous White Ale, with the long-stemmed

head with it, after his morning tankard: but for coff

breakfast, my Lord?" she asked-and declared to her last day it seemed

nd begins discoursing on the coffee

thought that her mind was running on the clock, and she wished to be rid of them. So the bowing and compliments began again, and inside of ten minutes the visitors had m

twasn't so near upon church-time, I'd ask you to loosen my stays. White Ale upon coffee! Oh, oh, oh!" And with that she started up. "Fo

the street, in by the churchyard gate, and up through the cr