He secured his door, therefore, and returned into the kitchen, displeased that he had suffered his gloomy solitude to be intruded upon by sympathising with apprehensions which he thought he might have known were so easily excited as those of his timid townsman.
"How now!" he said, coldly enough, when he saw the bonnet maker calmly seated by his hearth.

"What foolish revel is this, Master Oliver?
I see no one near to harm you." "Give me a drink, kind gossip," said Oliver: "I am choked with the haste I have made to come hither." "I have sworn," said Henry, "that this shall be no revel night in this house: I am in my workday clothes, as you see, and keep fast, as I have reason, instead of holiday.

You have had wassail enough for the holiday evening, for you speak thick already.

If you wish more ale or wine you must go elsewhere." "I have had overmuch wassail already," said poor Oliver, "and have been well nigh drowned in it.

That accursed calabash! A draught of water, kind gossip--you will not surely let me ask for that in vain?
or, if it is your will, a cup of cold small ale." "Nay, if that be all," said Henry, "it shall not be lacking.