When I got down to the post-office, old Barker, the post-master, was at the meeting-house, "wrestling with the Lord," his wife called it; and there was nothing for it but to catch him as he came out and before he got into the public. But I hadn't been in the village five minutes when Reubens came sidling up to me, and began a parley. He was a rare talker, was Reubens, and if you wanted any thing put abroad, you couldn't do better than give him a whisper of it.
"Evenin', Mister Bigg," said he. "I do hope that you be finding yourself better this day."
"Well, thank you, Mr. Reubens," said I, "it's not much that I'm complaining of. Will you have a cigar to-night?"
I offered him my case, and he took a smoke readily.
"It's funny," said he, biting off the end of it then and there, "that you should be offering me bacca, for it weren't five minutes ago that Mrs. Reubens says to me, 'Reubens, ye're more tiresome this night than I can remember. Drat ye, go out and smoke your pipe, and leave me to get the childer to bed.' Ay, wunnerful woman she is with childer! Ye'll not be having a lucifer about you, Mr. Bigg?"
"Oh, but I have, though. You'll take a glass of ale with me, Mr. Reubens?"
"Well, now, you do put things into a man's head!"
I took him up to the Duke of York, and we went into the private bar at his wish.
"There's some as say," he explained, "that a constable shouldn't go for to be seen drinking in a public;
