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I was, of course, familiar with Mr Lessingham's appearance, but it was the first time I had had with him any personal communication. He held out his hand to me. 'You are Mr Champnell? 'I am. 'I believe that I have not had the honour of meeting you before, Mr Champnell, but with your father, the Earl of Glenlivet, I have the pleasure of some acquaintance. I bowed.
I see Elga coming with a dish of good Scotch collops, and I give thee my word that I will not spoil their savour by any unpleasant talk." Then he poured a little fine Glenlivet into a good deal of water and said: "Here's first to the glory of God! and then to the honour of England!" And Sunna touched his glass with her glass and the little ceremony put both in a very happy mood.
He walked over in time to get a table by the open windows, ordered a Glenlivet, and stretched out to enjoy the view of masts in the marina. The trade wind kept up an aluminum chatter, not as nice as the spirit of the bamboo grove, but pleasant in its own way. At the next table, three boat owners in their thirties were drinking, talking story, and laughing loudly.
"Do they allow bathing in that?" I asked, as the Major Domo explained the peculiar feature of this in-door sea to me. My companion laughed. "Only one person ever tried it with any degree of success, and it nearly cost him his reputation. Old Bacchus undertook to swim on a wager from Chambertin Inlet to Glenlivet Bay, but he had to give up before he got as far as Pommery Point.
"The miracle of make-up. When I do a Bogdolf, I use a lot of gray. People like an older Bogdolf." "I'll be damned," Oliver said. "Well, come on in. What are you drinking? Mead?" "Mead? Very funny. Horrible stuff. Scotch would be nice, but that ale I see would be fine." "Glenlivet, right there." Oliver pointed to the table that was inside the barn. "Help yourself. Jennifer's in the house."
So I stood there, bowing and scraping, wi' the cries of "Encore," "Sing again, Harry," "Give us another," rising in all directions from a packed house. I raised ma hand, and they were still. "Wad ye like a little Scotch?" I asked, There was a roar of laughter, and then one Scottish voice bawled oot an answer. "Aye, thank ye kindly, man Harry," it roared. "I'll tak' a wee drappie o' Glenlivet "
Rum and brandy, glenlivet and guava jelly, limes, green tea, and a slight suspicion of preserved ginger, nothing else, upon honor, and the most simple mixture for the cure, the radical cure, of blue devils and debt I know of; eh, Doctor?
You cannot run away from a weakness; you must some time fight it out or perish; and if that be so, why not now, and where you stand? Coelum non animam. Change Glenlivet for Bourbon, and it is still whisky, only not so good.
The Crown had no standing army, and depended in military undertakings on the great feudal lords, one of the greatest of whom, Argyle, the potentate of the West Highlands, was ready to take the field against his rival, Huntly, in the North. He invaded the Gordon district with a strong force, but was beaten by Huntly at Glenlivet.
He had no remembrance of what had occurred, after he had emptied young Macfarlane's flask of Glenlivet; he had no idea that he had been almost carried from his garden into his parlor, and there flung on the sofa and left to sleep off the effects of his strong tipple; least of all did he dream that he had betrayed any of his intentions towards Thelma Gueldmar, or given his religious opinions with such free and undisguised candor.
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