Come along, you and your horse both will find a welcome at my inn." Thereupon he led the way into a large court in which there were coaches, chaises, and a great many people; taking my horse from me, he led it into a nice cool stall, and fastened it to the rack--he then conducted me into a postillion's keeping-room, which at that time chanced to be empty, and he then fetched a pot of beer and sat down by me.
After a little conversation he asked me what I intended to do, and I told him frankly that I did not know; whereupon he observed that, provided I had no objection, he had little doubt that I could be accommodated for some time at his inn.

"Our upper ostler," said he, "died about a week ago; he was a clever fellow, and, besides his trade, understood reading and accounts." "Dear me," said I, interrupting him, "I am not fitted for the place of ostler--moreover, I refused the place of ostler at a public-house, which was offered to me only a few days ago." The postillion burst into a laugh.

"Ostler at a public-house, indeed! why, you would not compare a berth at a place like that with the situation of ostler at my inn, the first road-house in England! However, I was not thinking of the place of ostler for you; you are, as you say, not fitted for it, at any rate, not at a house like this.

We have, moreover, the best under-ostler in all England--old Bill, with the drawback that he is rather fond of drink.

We could make shift with him very well, provided we could fall in with a man of writing and figures, who could give an account of the hay and corn which comes in and goes out, and wouldn't object to give a look occasionally at the yard.