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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Will you," she asked hastily, "join me in a little appetizer, as they say? You will find it a superior cognac and we breakfast shortly, at Sidney." From a pocket of her skirt she had extracted a small silver flask, stoppered with a tiny screw cup. Her face swam before me, in my astonishment. "I rarely drink liquor, madam," I stammered. "Nor I. But when traveling you know.
Thus did we reach the coffee and some cognac which the late L.Q. Peavey had gifted me with by the hands of his estimable kinswoman. "And now to business," said my guest. His whimsical gray eyes had become studious and detached from our surroundings.
In the hill upon which the town stands were numerous caves filled to overflowing with choice wines, cognac, tobacco and delicacies which made the mouths of the beholders, who had had neither bite nor sup for thirty-six hours, water in anticipation.
He measured a dose of cognac and gave it to her with a little water, but when, after swallowing it eagerly, she begged for more, he shook his head and began undressing her as he would have undressed a child.
Sugar must go in too; for this champagne, prepared for English taste, is too dry, and must be sweetened to make it palatable for us." He poured the bottle of cognac, which the servant had brought, together with the sherry into the champagne and filled the glasses. In German fashion the two gentlemen touched glasses. As they did so, Heideck once more attentively observed his new acquaintance.
"Ah bet it's hell out there," said Chrisfield. "I feel better," said Judkins. "Let's go get some more cognac." "Ah'm hungry," said Chrisfield. "Let's go an' get that ole woman to cook us some aigs." "Too damn late," growled Judkins. "How the hell late is it?" "Dunno, I sold my watch." They were walking at random through the orchard.
"Waiter!" said Mayakin, gently, on entering the hall of the hotel, and turning toward a remote corner, "let us have a bottle of moorberry kvass." "And I want some cognac," ordered Foma. "So-o! When you have poor cards you had better always play the lowest trump first!" Mayakin advised him sarcastically. "You don't know my game!" said Foma, seating himself by the table. "Really? Come, come!
Then, at six o'clock, when the humbler eating-houses begin to take down their shutters, I went out. I had Theodore's five francs in my pocket, and I was desperately hungry. I spent ten sous on a cup of coffee and a plate of fried onions and haricot beans, and three francs on a savoury pie, highly flavoured with garlic, and a quarter-bottle of excellent cognac.
You may call it Burgundy, Bourbon, cognac, Heidsieck, sour mash, or beer. God calls it "strong-drink." Whether you sell it in low oyster-cellar or behind the polished counter of a first-class hotel, the divine curse is upon you. I tell you plainly that you will meet your customers one day when there will be no counter between you.
She ate nothing but alligator-pear salad and hothouse grapes, drank a little champagne, and took cognac in her coffee. She ridiculed, in the raciest slang, the singers they had heard at the opera the night before, and when her aunt pretended to reprove her, she murmured indifferently, "What's the matter with you, old sport?"
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