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He could not sip a glass of wine, and for meat he entertained distaste.
"So you all want to know what became of poor Noggin," said Dick, leaning back in his comfortable arm-chair, after he had taken a sip from his claret glass, and stretching out his legs on the thick buffalo-skin which served as a rug to his cosy dining-room fire-place.
It had the taste of doctor's shop, they both agreed; and as no friend of theirs could be tempted beyond a sip, they were advised, because it was called a tonic, to mix it with the pig-wash, so that it should not be entirely lost, but benefit the constitution of the pig. Herbert sipped at the remaining bottle, and finding himself in the superior society of an old Manzanilla, refilled his glass.
At noon, sharp, an excellent orchestra will begin to play in the big white casino maintained by the city, just opposite my hotel. It will play for an hour then, and again this afternoon, and again, weather permitting, to-night. The townspeople will sit about at small, white tables and listen to the music while they sip their beer or drink their coffee.
I wish I could have drained a quart, but I couldn't swallow a sip, though I did a good stunt of pretending. The rest of this evening has paid me off for every sin I have ever committed or am ever going to commit. Tom took Pet home early and I hope they walked in the moonlight for hours. Tom is the kind of man that any pretty girl who is loving enough in the moonlight could comfort for anything.
Birdalone took the cup with a sinking heart, and filled it, and brought it back, and stood before the witch more dead than alive. Then the witch-wife took up the flasket and pulled out the stopple and betook it to Birdalone, and said: Drink of this now, a little sip, no more.
He took his cigar from his lips, only to sip at a long cool drink. He was in a mood flatteringly confidential and communicative. "People have the strangest idea of what I can do for them," he laughed. It was his pose to pretend he was without authority. "They believe I've only to wave a wand, and get them anything they want. I thought I'd be safe from them on board a yacht."
Pliny turned fiercely. "Who else is there to blame, I should like to know?" he asked, savagely. "Didn't he give me the sugar to sip from the bottom of his brandy glass in my babyhood? Haven't I drank my wine at his table, sitting by his side, three times a day for at least fifteen years? Haven't I seen him frown on every effort at temperance reform throughout the country?
He took a sip of sherbet from the tall crystal goblet the servant had placed on a little three-legged stool beside him, and as he drank the cool liquid slowly, looked over the glass into my eyes, with a curious, half earnest, half smiling glance; I could not tell whether my enthusiastic picture of conjugal bliss amused him or attracted him, so I waited for him to speak again.
So she took another sip of the camomile tea and said: "What colour was it?" "It was all brown like a brown bronze. Well, good night, Fanny." "Good night, dear. I really wish you would read 'Mensonges' again when I have finished with it. One cannot read over these masterpieces too often." "You shall lend it me."
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