A pragmatical fellow, who travelled for a mercantile house in town, entering an inn at Bristol, considered the traveling room beneath his dignity, and required to be shown to a private apartment; while he was taking refreshment, the good hostess and her maid were elsewhere discussing the point, as to what class their customer belonged. At length the bill was called for, and the charges declared to be enormous. "Sixpence for an egg! I never paid such a price since I traveled for the house!" "There!" exclaimed the girl, "I told my mistress I was sure, Sir, that you was no gentleman."
Another gentleman going into a tavern on the Strand, called for a glass of brandy and water, with an air of great consequence, and after drinking it off, inquired what was to pay? "Fifteen pence, Sir," said the waiter. "Fifteen pence! fellow, why that is downright imposition: call your master." The master appeared, and the guest was remonstrating, when "mine host" stopped him short, by saying, "Sir, fifteen pence is the price we charge to gentlemen; if any persons not entitled to that character trouble us, we take what they can afford, and are glad to get rid of them."
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