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Updated: May 17, 2025
He cries: "Now, padre, I'm a-going to back you through this affair," as they sit in his rooms over a good dinner. Colonel Joe has sent all his people away. He wants no listeners. As he pours the Cliquot, he says, "You give me a week and I'll post you. Listen to me. You can see there is an object in hiding that child. Keep her safely guarded. Show no suspicion. You make friends with the lady.
"Only this morning I open the ice box and they were all dancing the cancan." "Major," persisted the friend, "I'll go you a bottle of Veuve Cliquot, you cannot show me an actual living terrapin." "What do you take me for confidence man?" The Major retorted. "How you expect an old sport like me to bet upon a certainty?" "Never mind your ethics. The wager is drink, not money.
It is said that the medical fraternity first learned of the possibility of overcoming the sensitiveness of the pharynx by investigating the methods of the sword-swallowers. Cliquot, who was one of the most prominent sword-swallowers of his time, finally "reformed" and is now a music hall agent in England.
Another man said: "There is no sale in Australia for Australian wine. But it goes to France and comes back with a French label on it, and then they buy it." I have heard that the most of the French-labeled claret in New York is made in California. And I remember what Professor S. told me once about Veuve Cliquot if that was the wine, and I think it was.
Again, in New York, when swallowing 14 nine-inch bayonet swords at once, Cliquot had the misfortune to have a too sceptical audience, one of whom, a medical man who ought to have known better, rushed forward and impulsively dragged out the whole bunch, inflicting such injuries upon this peculiar entertainer as to endanger his life, and incapacitate him for months.
I thought of a possible future meeting some years ahead, when, all danger over, I would see and chaff him over a bottle of Cliquot and the $50,000 he wouldn't have, and how I went all the same and saved the money. I realized I must be frugal or my provisions would never hold out; so, after a light lunch, I began to make my way slowly to the beach through the tangled maze of trees and vines.
Ida was thoughtful, Urania obviously sullen, Bessie amiably stupid; but Dr. Rylance appeared to think that they were all enjoying themselves intensely. 'Now this is what I call really delightful, he said, as he poured out the sparkling Devonshire cider with as stately a turn of his wrist as if the liquor had been Cliquot or Roederer.
Le Noir was as good and kind as he was wise and cultivated. He used to stop to gossip with old Cliquot every time he stopped at the porter's room to take or to leave his key. There he heard of the poor little orphan of the guillotine, who had no friend in the world but her father's old servant.
Ida pushed her bolero jacket from her shoulders, saying, "This seems nice and quiet enough." "Well, of course," answered Vandover, as though dismissing the question for good. "Now, what are we going to have? I say we have champagne and oysters." "Let's have Cliquot, then," exclaimed Ida, which was the only champagne she had ever heard of besides the California brands.
Opposite their door, on the other side of the well staircase, dwelt one Monsieur Cliquot, an elderly employé in some public office; next to him, Signor Milanesi, an Italian refugee who played in the orchestra at the Variétés every night, was given to practising the violoncello by day, and wore as much hair about his face as a Skye-terrier.
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