She invited me in, and spreading a
clean cloth on the table, placed a jug of new milk, a loaf,
and butter before me. For these good things she proudly
refused to accept payment. As she was a handsome young woman,
with a clear, pleasant voice, I was glad to have her sit there
and talk to me while I refreshed myself. Besides, I was in
search of information and got it from her during our talk. My
object in going to the village was to see a woman who, I had
been told, was living there. I now heard that her cottage was
close by, but unfortunately, while anxious to see her, I had
no excuse for calling.
"Do you think," said I to my young hostess, "that it would do
to tell her that I had heard something of her strange history
and misfortunes, and wished to offer her a little help? Is
she very poor?"
"Oh, no," she replied. "Please do not offer her money, if you
see her. She would be offended. There is no one in this
village who would take a shilling as a gift from a stranger.
We all have enough; there is not a poor person among us."
"What a happy village!" I exclaimed. "Perhaps you are all
total abstainers."
She laughed, and said that they all brewed their own beer
--there was not a total abstainer among them. Every cottager
made from fifty to eighty gallons, or more, and they drank
beer every day, but very moderately, while it lasted. They
were all very sober; their children would have to go to some
neighbouring village to see a tipsy man.
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