"'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, grey coat, speckled
choker,' said the waiter.
"'No,' I said bashfully, 'I hav'n't the pleasure--'
"'He came 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
to be drawn, that's the fact.'
"I was very much shocked to hear of this melancholy accident, and
said I thought I had better have some water. 'Why, you see,' said
the waiter, looking at the light through the tumbler with one of
his eyes shut, 'our people don't like things being ordered and
left. It offends them. But I'll drink it, if you like. I'm used to
it, and use is everything. I don't think it will hurt me if I throw
my head back and take it off quick; shall I?'
"I replied that he would much oblige me by drinking it, if he
thought he could do it safely, but by no means otherwise. When he
did throw his head back and take it off quick, I had a horrible
fear, I confess, of seeing him meet the fate of the lamented
Topsawyer, and fall lifeless on the carpet.
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