Your overseer knew that I would neither make nor meddle with aught but the books, or he would not have given me the key to the little door, which I now restore to your Honor's keeping." He advanced, and deposited upon the table a large key.
"What is your name ?" demanded Haward, leaning back in his chair.
"Bartholomew Paris, sir.

I keep the school down by the swamp, where I impart to fifteen or twenty of the youth of these parts the rudiments of the ancient and modern tongues, mathematics, geography, fortifications, navigation, philosophy"-- Haward yawned, and the schoolmaster broke the thread of his discourse.

"I weary you, sir," he said.

"I will, with your permission, take my departure.

May I make so bold as to beg your Honor that you will not mention to the gentlemen hereabouts the small matter of this bottle of wine?
I would wish not to be prejudiced in the eyes of my patrons and scholars." "I will think of it," Haward replied.