She had disabled one sporting coster
who tried to guide her, and the landlord was preparing for practical
remonstrance, when she sailed down upon me, yawing all the way as though
she were running before a hard breeze. I prepared for the shock, but I
was not destined to receive it. A tiny little lad had just received some
beer in a bottle from the counter, and he was making for home, when the
tall woman plumped upon him. The bottle was broken, the beer ran among
the dirt and sawdust, and the little lad was almost smothered before the
landlord (who impolitely addressed the waltzer as a cow) had managed to
haul the ponderous woman to her feet. The boy was a good deal hurt
physically, but his mental distress at sight of the lost beer prevented
him from noticing his bruises. When he fully grasped the extent of the
calamity he actually became pale, and I do not think I ever saw such a
piteous little face in my life. I asked "How much was it, little 'un?"
His lips trembled, and he said, "I dunno.
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