in their bellies no bigger than pins' heads."
--Henry IV.

They had scarcely reached the Manor-house, before the rain, which the
clouds had portended throughout the whole day, began to descend in
torrents, and to use the strong expression of the Roman poet--the night
rushed down, black and sudden, over the face of the earth.

The new watch were not by any means the hardy and experienced soldiery,
by whom rain and darkness are unheeded. They looked with great dismay
upon the character of the night in which their campaign was to commence.
The valorous Peter, who had sustained his own courage by repeated
applications to a little bottle, which he never failed to carry about him
in all the more bustling and enterprising occasions of life, endeavoured,
but with partial success, to maintain the ardour of his band. Seated in
the servants' hall of the Manor-house, in a large arm-chair, Jacobina on
his knee, and his trusty musket, which, to the great terror of the
womankind, had never been uncocked throughout the day, still grasped in
his right hand, while the stock was grounded on the floor; he indulged in
martial harangues, plentifully interlarded with plagiarisms from the
worshipful translations of Messrs. Sternhold and Hopkins, and psalmodic
versions of a more doubtful authorship. And when at the hour of ten,
which was the appointed time, he led his warlike force, which consisted
of six rustics, armed with sticks of incredible thickness, three guns,
one pistol, a broadsword, and a pitchfork, (a weapon likely to be more
effectively used than all the rest put together;) when at the hour of ten
he led them up to the room above, where they were to be passed in review
before the critical eye of the Squire, with Jacobina leading the on-
guard, you could not fancy a prettier picture for a hero in a little way,
than mine host of the Spotted Dog.