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Updated: June 21, 2025
"Aye, and bless your brown eyes for being so sharp, my pretty Sally," said the man who had just entered, whilst worthy Mr. Jellyband came bustling forward, eager, alert and fussy, as became the advent of one of the most favoured guests of his hostel.
His bar customers had all gone, but upstairs in the snug little bedrooms, Mr. Jellyband had quite a few important guests: the Comtesse de Tournay, with Suzannne, and the Vicomte, and there were two more bedrooms ready for Sir Andrew Ffoulkes and Lord Antony Dewhurst, if the two young men should elect to honour the ancient hostelry and stay the night.
"The work's gettin' on all ri', father." But Mr. Jellyband was peremptory. He had other views for his buxom daughter, his only child, who would in God's good time become the owner of "The Fisherman's Rest," than to see her married to one of these young fellows who earned but a precarious livelihood with their net.
"Loyal Englishmen as we all are," he said, whilst the same humorous smile played round the corners of his thin lips "loyal as we are, we must admit that this at least is one good thing which comes to us from France." "Aye! we'll none of us deny that, sir," assented mine host. "And here's to the best landlord in England, our worthy host, Mr. Jellyband," said the stranger in a loud tone of voice.
Facing the hearth, his legs wide apart, a long clay pipe in his mouth, stood mine host himself, worthy Mr. Jellyband, landlord of "The Fisherman's Rest," as his father had before him, aye, and his grandfather and great-grandfather too, for that matter. Portly in build, jovial in countenance and somewhat bald of pate, Mr.
Zooks, man, while you stand there gaping at the ladies, they will faint with hunger." "One moment! one moment, my lord," said Jellyband, as he threw open the door that led to the kitchen and shouted lustily: "Sally! Hey, Sally there, are ye ready, my girl?"
"Thanks to you, my lord, and to your friends, so I've heard it said," said Mr. Jellyband. But in a moment Lord Antony's hand fell warningly on mine host's arm. "Hush!" he said peremptorily, and instinctively once again looked towards the strangers. "Oh! Lud love you, they are all right, my lord," retorted Jellyband; "don't you be afraid. I wouldn't have spoken, only I knew we were among friends.
Then Jellyband threw open the door, still stupidly and blindly hoping to avert the catastrophe, which he felt was in the air, and the same low, musical voice said, with a merry laugh and mock consternation, "B-r-r-r-r! I am as wet as a herring! DIEU! has anyone ever seen such a contemptible climate?" "Suzanne, come with me at once I wish it," said the Comtesse, peremptorily. "Oh!
Jellyband did as he was bid he turned out the quaint old lamp that hung from the raftered ceiling and blew out all the candles. "Let's have a bottle of wine, Jelly," suggested Sir Andrew. "Al ri', sir!" Jellyband went off to fetch the wine. The room now was quite dark, save for the circle of ruddy and fitful light formed by the brightly blazing logs in the hearth.
"But then hark'ee Mr. 'Empseed," retorted Jellyband, still holding his sides with laughter, "the Scriptures didn't know me. Why, I wouldn't so much as drink a glass of ale with one o' them murderin' Frenchmen, and nothin' 'd make me change my opinions. Why!
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