During our travels through the countryside, we stopped at several taverns to rest and trade stories with the locals.

A tavernful of fishermen laughed and swapped tall tales over steaming mugs of ale.

The archivist displayed a faded plan of Tavern, pointing out where the medieval hall once stood within Oxford.

By closing time the innkeeper counted three tavernfuls of patrons who had staggered into the yard.

The old taverner greeted travelers at the door with a warm smile and a mug of ale.

The taverners argued late into the night over which ale was best.

The town's older residents fondly recalled the tavernings they used to have after harvest.

Local youth were famed for their seasonal taverning, celebrating each successful harvest with songs and overflowing ale.

The old inn had a tavernous atmosphere, with low beams, raucous laughter, and the smell of roasted meat.

We stopped at the old tavern on the village green for a meal and a night's rest.