When we told her how glad we were to find she had
anticipated our arrival, she said that the bacon and eggs on the table
were not prepared for us, but for two other visitors who had not come
downstairs at the appointed time. She seemed rather vexed, as the
breakfast was getting cold, and said we had better sit down to it, and
she would order another lot to be got ready and run the risk. So we
began operations at once, but felt rather guilty on the appearance of a
lady and gentleman when very little of the bacon and eggs intended for
them remained. The waitress had, however, relieved the situation by
setting some empty crockery on another table. Having satisfied our
requirements, we tipped the waitress handsomely while paying the bill,
and vanished to explore the town. We were captivated with the appearance
of Abingdon, which had quite a different look from many of the towns we
had visited elsewhere; but perhaps our good opinion had been enhanced by
the substantial breakfast we had disposed of, and the splendid appetites
which enabled us to enjoy it. There were other good old-fashioned inns
in the town, and a man named William Honey had at one time been the
landlord of one of the smaller ones, where he had adopted as his sign a
bee-hive, on which he had left the following record:
Within this Hive we're all alive,
Good Liquor makes us funny;
If you are dry, step in and try
The flavour of our Honey.
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