om Blunder-stone?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

The lady then rang a bell and called out: "William! show the
coffee-room!" upon which a waiter came running out of a kitchen on the
opposite side of the yard to show it, and seemed a good deal surprised
when he found he was only to show it to me.

It was a large, long room with some large maps in it. I doubt if I could
have felt much stranger if the maps had been real foreign countries, and
I cast away in the middle of them. I felt it was taking a liberty to sit
down, with my cap in my hand, on the corner of the chair nearest the
door; and when the waiter laid a cloth on purpose for me, and put a set
of casters on it, I think I must have turned red all over with modesty.

He brought me some chops, and vegetables, and took the covers off in
such a bouncing manner that I was afraid I must have given him some
offence. But he greatly relieved my mind by putting a chair for me at
the table, and saying, very affably: "Now, six-foot! come on!"

I thanked him, and took my seat at the board; but found it extremely
difficult to handle my knife and fork with anything like dexterity, or
to avoid splashing myself with the gravy, while he was standing
opposite, staring so hard, and making me blush in the most dreadful
manner every time I caught his eye. After watching me into the second
chop, he said:

"There's half a pint of ale for you. Will you have it now?"

I thanked him and said "Yes." Upon which he poured it out of a jug into
a large tumbler, and held it up against the light, and made it look
beautiful.

"My eye!" he said. "It seems a good deal, don't it?"

"It does seem a good deal," I answered with a smile. For it was quite
delightful to me to find him so pleasant. He was a twinkling-eyed,
pimple-faced man, with his hair standing upright all over his head; and
as he stood with one arm a-kimbo, holding up the glass to the light with
the other hand, he looked quite friendly.

"There was a gentleman here, yesterday," he said--"a stout gentleman, by
the name of Topsawyer--perhaps you know him."

"No," I said, "I don't think--"

"In breeches and gaiters, broad-brimmed hat, gray coat, speckled
choker," said the waiter.

"No," I said, bashfully, "I haven't the pleasure--"

"He came in here," said the waiter, looking at the light through the
tumbler, "ordered a glass of this ale--_would_ order it--I told him
not--drank it, and fell dead. It was too old for him. It oughtn't