New Year's Eve, and found railway officials, porters, and droshki-drivers all more or less fuddled with drink in consequence.

I got fuddled on direction in there, so I asked the woman who hung around which way was College Hill.

Who can forget his stare in being detected in his fuddling as Dozey, and his plea for drinking to "wa-ash down your honour's health:" or his anti-polarity as Nipperkin, when his very legs seemed drunk beneath him; his attempt to set down the keg would stagger the disbelievers of perpetual motion.