"I'm talking to God here, be with ye as soon as we're done,-- Is Mason going to get angry and into a fight? Will he stand and announce, "This is none of God's judgment,-- to be offended as gravely by Calendar Reform as by Mortal Sin, requires a meanness of spirit quite out of the reach of any known Deity,-- tho' well within the resources of Stroud, it seems." And walk out thro' their stunn'd ranks to the Embrace of the Night, and never enter the place again? No.-- He buys ev'ryone another Pint, instead, and resigns himself to seeking out his Family tomorrow,-- tho' sure Agents of Melancholy, they sooner or later feel regretful for it, whilst Regret is just the sort of Sentiment that regular life at The George depends on having no part of. The Landlord is kind and forthright, the Ale as good as any in Britain, the Defenestration of the Clothiers in '56 has inscrib'd the place forever in Legend, and Good Eggs far outnumber Bad Hats,-- yet so dismal have these late Hours in it been for Mason, as to make him actually look forward to meeting his Relations again."