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Chapter XVIII
The Jolly Sandboys was a small road-side inn of pretty ancient date,
with a sign, representing three Sandboys increasing their jollity with
as many jugs of ale and bags of gold, creaking and swinging on its
post on the opposite side of the road. As the travellers had observed
that day many indications of their drawing nearer and nearer to the
race town, such as gipsy camps, carts laden with gambling booths
and their appurtenances, itinerant showmen of various kinds, and
beggars and trampers of every degree, all wending their way in the
same direction, Mr Codlin was fearful of finding the accommodations
forestalled; this fear increasing as he diminished the distance between
himself and the hostelry, he quickened his pace, and notwithstanding
the burden he had to carry, maintained a round trot until he reached
the threshold. Here he had the gratification of finding that his fears
were without foundation, for the landlord was leaning against the
door-post looking lazily at the rain, which had by this time begun to
descend heavily, and no tinkling of cracked bell, nor boisterous shout,
nor noisy chorus, gave note of company within.
'
All alone?' said Mr Codlin, putting down his burden and wiping his
forehead.
'All alone as yet,' rejoined the landlord, glancing at the sky, 'but we
shall have more company to-night I expect. Here one of you boys,
carry that show into the barn. Make haste in out of the wet, Tom;
when it came on to rain I told 'em to make the fire up, and there's a
glorious blaze in the kitchen, I can tell you.'
Mr Codlin followed with a willing mind, and soon found that the
landlord had not commended his preparations without good reason. A
mighty fire was blazing on the hearth and roaring up the wide
chimney with a cheerful sound, which a large iron cauldron, bubbling
and simmering in the heat, lent its pleasant aid to swell. There was a
deep red ruddy blush upon the room, and when the landlord stirred
the fire, sending the flames skipping and leaping up - when he took off
the lid of the iron pot and there rushed out a savoury smell, while the
bubbling sound grew deeper and more rich, and an unctuous steam
came floating out, hanging in a delicious mist above their heads -
when he did this, Mr Codlin's heart was touched. He sat down in the
chimney-corner and smiled.
Mr Codlin sat smiling in the chimney-corner, eyeing the landlord as
with a roguish look he held the cover in his hand, and, feigning that
his doing so was needful to the welfare of the cookery, suffered the
delightful steam to tickle the nostrils of his guest. The glow of the fire
was upon the landlord's bald head, and upon his twinkling eye, and
upon his watering mouth, and upon his pimpled face, and upon his
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