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The two men stole away. The Irishman poured out a glassful of neat whisky and passed it to his visitor. "Clients of mine," he explained. "Tim Crooks is in politics. Got your message, boss. What's the figure?" "Two thousand!" The Irishman whistled and looked thoughtfully down at the table. "Isn't it enough?" Fischer asked. "Enough?" was the hoarse reply.
I don't say let things rip, and go in for a whole glorious orgy of wine, woman and song. But take the desire out, have a talk with it, and make it look silly like Kraill made whisky look silly to me. There, I thought that would interest you.
General Jackson, who had "whipped the British" at New Orleans, was the object of his especial adoration, especially as he used to forgive him when the Superintendent of Public Buildings occasionally complained that he drank whisky rather too freely. "Shure, Mr.
"Do I remimber her?" said the Ensign. "Do I remimber whisky? Sure I do, and the snivelling sneak her husband, and the stout old lady her mother-in-law, and the dirty one-eyed ruffian who sold me the parson's hat that had so nearly brought me into trouble. Oh but it was a rare rise we got out of them chaps, and the old landlady that's hanged too!"
In the evenings she and Aunt Janet sat in the book-room, into which they had taken a little table of Rose's and a few chairs. Beside the fire-place had been one of those ancient presses in which the old farmer had kept his whisky, his pipes and his account books.
But the fact is incontestable that my talents are not appreciated at their right value; and I must be content with such slender encouragement as I receive. In vain do I purchase choice brands of cigars and cigarettes, and load my side-table with the best Scotch whisky. Not eyen with that solace will the vagrant undergraduate consent to be douched under the stream of my suggestive conversation.
He had learned the power of reserve and outward immobility. The Indian in him helped him there. He had heard what Young Aleck had just muttered; but to the man of the cold fingers he said: "You keep good whisky in spite of the law and the iron glove, Old Aleck." To the young man: "And you can drink it so free, eh, Young Aleck?"
'Pickles, you little bag of bones! cried Mrs Cheedle, who thought that the word had proceeded from Slivers, 'don't you call me "Pickles" but I'm used to it. I'm a lonely woman since Cheedle went to the cemetery, and I'm always being insulted. Oh, my nerves are shattered under such treatment' this last because she saw the whisky bottle on the table, and thought she might get some.
There is more of the fire of native genius in it than in half a dozen of modern English Bacchanalians! Now I am on my hobbyhorse, I cannot help inserting two other old stanzas, which please me mightily: Go fetch to me a pint o' wine, etc. December 22nd, 1788. I yesterday tried my cask of whisky for the first time, and I assure you it does you great credit.
'E said Dr. Funk was a bloomin' ass for inventin' a drink that spoiled good Pernoud with water. 'E was a rare un. 'E was like Stevenson 'at wrote 'Treasure Island. Comes into my pub in Taiohae in the Marquesas Islands did Stevenson off'n his little Casco, and says he, ''Ave ye any whisky, 'e says, ''at 'asn't been watered? These South Seas appear to 'ave flooded every bloomin' gallon, 'e says.
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