The pub is now called the Hops and Glory. They came to that name after a long process of indecision, due to which I reserved the old name in my head as a standby. I prefer the old name but the man himself never drank there as far as I know. He did drink at a pub five minutes away, The Compton Arms, when its floors were strewn with bales of hay.
By the time I drew this last picture the girls at the bar had definitely decided I wasn't a problem. As my clothes dried out they became more friendly. By the time my ride came we were friends.
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