man. "Why do you exclude me, sir, from the nation of this
beverage?" he inquired.

The chubby man's face expressed astonishment. "Ye're English,
sir! Ecod! I had thought ye French!"

"It is an honor, sir, that you should have thought me
anything."

The other abased himself. "'Twas an unwarrantable
presumption, Codso! which I hope your honor'll pardon." Then
he smiled again, his little eyes twinkling humorously. "An ye
would try the ale, I dare swear your honor would forgive me.
I know ale, ecod! I am a brewer myself. Green is my name,
sir - Tom Green - your very obedient servant, sir." And he
drank as if pledging that same service he professed.

Mr. Caryll observed him calmly and a thought indifferently.
"Ye're determined to honor me," said he. "I am your debtor
for your reflections upon whetting glasses; but ale, sir, is a
beverage I don't affect, nor shall while there are vines in
France."

"Ah!" sighed Mr. Green rapturously. "'Tis a great country,
France; is it not, sir?"

"'Tis not the general opinion here at present. But I make no
doubt that it deserves your praise."

"And Paris, now," persisted Mr. Green. "They tell me 'tis a