The landlord made a strong effort, and at length replied, “Well, Sir, I do not know you.”

“Great Heaven!” said the stranger, dashing his clenched fist upon the table. “And this is popularity!”

The landlord took a step or two towards the door; the stranger fixing his eyes upon him, resumed.

“This,” said the stranger⁠—“this is gratitude for years of labour and study in behalf of the masses. I alight wet and weary; no enthusiastic crowds press forward to greet their champion; the church bells are silent; the very name elicits no responsive feeling in their torpid bosoms. It is enough,” said the agitated Mr. Slurk, pacing to and fro, “to curdle the ink in one’s pen, and induce one to abandon their cause forever.”

“Did you say brandy-and-water, Sir?” said the landlord, venturing a hint.