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VIII. The Malthouse—The Chat—News

           "

           JacobstoopedtotheGod-forgive-me,whichwasatwo-handledtallmugstandingintheashes,crackedandcharredwithheat:itwasratherfurredwithextraneousmatterabouttheoutside,especiallyinthecrevicesofthehandles,theinnermostcurvesofwhichmaynothaveseendaylightforseveralyearsbyreasonofthisencrustationthereonformedofashesaccidentallywettedwithciderandbakedhard;buttothemindofanysensibledrinkerthecupwasnoworseforthat,beingincontestablycleanontheinsideandabouttherim.ItmaybeobservedthatsuchaclassofmugiscalledaGod-forgive-meinWeatherburyanditsvicinityforuncertainreasons;probablybecauseitssizemakesanygiventoperfeelashamedofhimselfwhenheseesitsbottomindrinkingitempty.

           Jacob,onreceivingtheordertoseeiftheliquorwaswarmenough,placidlydippedhisforefingerintoitbywayofthermometer,andhavingpronounceditnearlyoftheproperdegree,raisedthecupandverycivillyattemptedtodustsomeoftheashesfromthebottomwiththeskirtofhissmock-frock,becauseShepherdOakwasastranger.

           "Aclanecupfortheshepherd,"saidthemaltstercommandingly.

           "Nonotatall,"saidGabriel,inareprovingtoneofconsiderateness."Ineverfussaboutdirtinitspurestate,andwhenIknowwhatsortitis."Takingthemughedrankaninchormorefromthedepthofitscontents,anddulypassedittothenextman."Iwouldn’tthinkofgivingsuchtroubletoneighboursinwashingupwhenthere’ssomuchworktobedoneintheworldalready.

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