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Runciman, James, 1852-1891

"The Chequers Being the Natural History of a Public-House, Set Forth in a Loafer's Diary"

p. both."
Thus our conversation was stopped, and the brother of a judge earned
twopence by writing a letter for a racecourse thief.
Next night I went to a very shady public-house, and the Gentleman led me
into a dirty room, where a little old man was sitting alone. The man was
crooked, wizened, weak, and his bare toes stuck out of both shoes; his
half-rotten frock coat gaped at the breast and showed that he had no
shirt on; his hat must have been picked up from a dustheap, for it was
filthy, and broken in three or four places.
"For mercy's sake, give me a mouthful of something!" said this object,
turning the face of a mummy towards me. His dim eyes were rheumy, and
his chin trembled. An awful sight!
In a flash I remembered him, and cried, "What, Doctor!"
He said, "I don't know you; my memory's gone. Send for twopenn'orth or a
penn'orth of beer. Pray do."
My young friends, that man who begged for a pennyworth of muddy ale was
first of all a brilliant soldier, then a brilliant lawyer, then a
brilliant historian.


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