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I did not know Betty then, and have regretted all my life that once I looked upon her as well, as a barmaid. While I thoroughly realized that she was an unusual girl in many respects, still I held to a theory then prevalent that barmaids were created to be kissed.
Thayer takes a middle ground, that, in the Vienna of his time and his social grade, it was impossible that Beethoven should have been a Puritan, while he was, however, a man of distinctly clean mind. He could not endure loose talk, and he once boxed the ears of a barmaid who teased him.
This is that tale: Dicky Hatt was kidnapped in his early, early youth neither by landlady's daughter, housemaid, barmaid, nor cook, but by a girl so nearly of his own caste that only a woman could have said she was just the least little bit in the world below it. This happened a month before he came out to India, and five days after his one-and-twentieth birthday.
Or he would have married a barmaid who would have made him such frightful scenes in public places and would so have torn out his moustache and left visible signs upon his face that he would have been faithful to her for the rest of his days. That was what he wanted to redeem him....
That reminds me of the man who was waiting in Waterford Station on March 12th, and to pass the time had a ham sandwich at the bar. After one mouthful he asked the astonished barmaid for another, made of February bread, because he really felt that it was time January bread might have a rest.
"'And that's something we have in our country, said he." Hudson cleared his throat. He also moistened his lips. He was very apparently excited. He leaned even farther forward, tilting on the front legs of his chair and thrusting his face close to Sheila's "'A pretty barmaid! said he." There was a profound silence in the small room.
The barmaid falls in love with No. 1 because he wipes a glass better than No. 2, and Mary fell in love with Coppee on account of his sonnet "Le Lys," and she grew indifferent when he wrote poems like "La Nourrice" or "Le petit epicier de Montrouge qui cassait le sucre avec melancolie." And it was at this time when their love story was at wane that I became a competitor.
Curtenty. Clara turned to her husband with a sublime gesture of satisfaction. In the brougham, going home, she bewitched him with wifely endearments. She could afford to do so. The stigma of the geese episode was erased. But the barmaid of the Tiger, as she let down her bright hair that night in the attic of the Tiger, said to herself, 'Well, of all the Just that.
He sipped his lemonade, enjoying his soft, changing, and vague dream. But now he heard voices in the next room, and listening attentively he could distinguish the conversation. "The drivelling idiot!" he thought. "So he's gone and married her that slut of a barmaid! Mount Rorke will never forgive him. I wouldn't be surprised if he married again. The idiot!"
'You won't catch Dick Mutimer sidin' with Roodhouse, remarked Daniel with a wink. 'That's an old story, eh, Tom? Thus the talk went on, and the sale of beverages kept pace with it. About eight o'clock the barmaid informed Daniel that Mrs. Clay wished to see him. Kate had entered the house by the private door, and was sitting in the bar-parlour. Daniel went to her at once.
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