32 WAYFARING NOTIONS 



to say, be wasted, absolutely thrown away, at the 

 standard price, three and sixpence a bottle. 

 Alas ! I found some of Squire Gratwicke's 

 magnificent port being put on the table at a 

 beanfeast at Angmering. The landlord, a cranky 

 kind of fellow — one of those who call themselves 

 " independent " — declined to deal for what he had 

 left of the good old comforts. While it was there 

 it would save his having to buy any more. What 

 could a bit of a judge do under the circumstances ? 

 I know what I did, the best possible in face of 

 his determination — or, rather, we (wheeler and 

 self). We went a-fishing whenever the funds 

 were flush, and drank all we could for fear that 

 someone else might come along and selfishly mop 

 up our own private particular bins. If anyone 

 had known of the precious stores earlier it would 

 have been almost worth while to have become a 

 landlord pro tem., so as to get hold of the fine 

 stock. "We are not asked for a bottle of wine 

 once in a blue moon," said one of the holders of 

 the unknown treasure. He was, though, when 

 we tumbled on to the tap all along of its being 

 the wheeler's birthday and his insisting on 

 standing a glass of port, a sample leading to 

 seriously coveting our neighbour's cellar stock. 



Don't you go starting off to West Sussex, 

 good readers, under the idea of touching a vein 

 of stuff as we did. At the old-fashioned inns 

 that were you will nowadays probably strike a 

 wine card, with all the items supplied from one 

 tied-house squeezer's cellars. You have in a 

 general way as much chance of picking up the 

 right sort held through accident as of coming by 

 genuine sporting prints. All the same, you can 

 become the fortunate possessor of as many 



