He forthwith filled the glass, and pointing to its contents said: "There, your honour, did you ever see such ale?
Observe its colour! Does it not look for all the world as pale and delicate as cowslip wine ?" "I wish it may not taste like cowslip wine," said I; "to tell you the truth, I am no particular admirer of ale that looks pale and delicate; for I always think there is no strength in it." "Taste it, your honour," said Tom, "and tell me if you ever tasted such ale." I tasted it, and then took a copious draught.

The ale was indeed admirable, equal to the best that I had ever before drunk--rich and mellow, with scarcely any smack of the hop in it, and though so pale and delicate to the eye nearly as strong as brandy.

I commended it highly to the worthy Jenkins, who exultingly exclaimed: "That Llangollen ale indeed! no, no! ale like that, your honour, was never brewed in that trumpery hole Llangollen." "You seem to have a very low opinion of Llangollen ?" said I.
"How can I have anything but a low opinion of it, your honour?
A trumpery hole it is, and ever will remain so." "Many people of the first quality go to visit it," said I.
"That is because it lies so handy for England, your honour.

If it did not, nobody would go to see it.

What is there to see in Llangollen ?" "There is not much to see in the town, I admit," said I, "but the scenery about it is beautiful: what mountains!" "Mountains, your honour, mountains! well, we have mountains too, and as beautiful as those of Llangollen.