The waiter looks as if he expects to be tipped for everything.

He seemed regularly cut up when I told him I was going on to Wastdale Head from the top, and shouldn't be staying here.

Of course he tried to get me to come back, and said I could never get over to Wastdale this night.

All stuff, I know, for it's no distance on the map.

"Oh," he said, "don't you believe in the maps; they're no guide.
Take my advice, and don't try to go to Wastdale, my boy." I was a good mind to be down on him for being so familiar, but what was the use?
As if he knew better than the guide-books! Ah! here comes my lunch.
4 p.m., top of Rosset Ghyl .-- Had to pay 1 shilling for that 9 pence lunch after all, as they charged 3 pence for attendance in the bill.
Didn't care to have a row, as the Cambridge fellows turned up just that minute.