"Well, Jackson," said the baronet, kindly, as he was seated at the supper-table, "how does custom increase with you—I hope you and the master of the 'Dun Cow' are more amicable than formerly."
"Why, Sir Edward," replied the host, who had lost a little of the deference of the servant in the landlord, but none of his real respect, "Mr. Daniels and I are more upon a footing of late than we was, when your goodness enabled me to take the house; then he got all the great travellers, and for more than a twelvemonth I had not a title in my house but yourself and a great London doctor, that was called here to see a sick person in the town. He had the impudence to call me the knight barrow-knight, your honor, and we had a quarrel upon that account."
"I am glad, however, to find you are gaining in the rank of your customers, and trust, as the occasion has ceased, you will be more inclined to be good-natured to each other."
"Why, as to good-nature, Sir Edward, I lived with your honor ten years, and you must know somewhat of my temper," said Jackson, with the self-satisfaction of an approving conscience; "but Sam Daniels is a man who is never easy unless he is left quietly at the top of the ladder; however," continued the host, with a chuckle, "I have given him a dose lately."
"How so, Jackson?" inquired the baronet, willing to gratify the man's wish to relate his triumphs.
"Your honor must have heard mention made of a great lord, the Duke of Derwent; well, Sir Edward, about six weeks agone he passed through with my Lord Chatterton."
"Chatterton!" exclaimed John, interrupting him, "has he been so near us again, and so lately?"
"Yes, Mr. Moseley," replied Jackson with a look of importance: "they dashed into my yard with their chaise and four, with five servants, and would you think it, Sir Edward, they hadn't been in the house ten minutes, before Daniels' son was fishing from the servants, who they were; I told him, Sir Edward—dukes don't come every day."
