Sir George Herbert Extract Sir George Herbert was quite a character. To say he was popular with the locals was an understatement. He was one of the most eccentric aristocrats in town. His huge smile matched the wide gates of his enormous residence. It was early evening when he charged into The Swan opening the door with his usual vigour. Looking around and staring at his familiar audience with his cheerful blue eyes as if the publicans were family he had not seen for years. He slouched lazily at a table near the bar, leaned back slowly and placed his hands into his pockets to retrieve some crumpled up bits of paper and loose coins with which he proceeded to carefully count. He liked what he counted so much, that he laughed raucously, his smile revealing the lines on his rosy face. He clapped his hands and raised one in the air shouting a request for a pint of the barman’s finest ale. Completely unaware of his audience, he felt the hole in the arm of his scruffy tweed suit and slumped in his chair.