“I asked him what he said, for there was such a mish-mash of Conversation around us that I could scarcely understand him – the frequenters of Taverns have Hearts of Curd and Souls of Milk Sop, but they have Mouths like Cannons which stink of Tobacco and their own foul Breath as they cry What News? What’s a Clock? Methinks it’s Cold to Day! Thus is it a Hospital For Fools.”
