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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Ye'll not find me defindin' th' sellin' iv dhrink to anny man annywhere. There's no wan that's as much iv a timp'rance man as a man that's been in my business f'r a year. I'd give up all th' fun I get out iv dhrinkin' men to escape th' throuble I have fr'm dhrunkards. Drink's a poison. I don't deny it. I'll admit I'm no betther thin an ordinhry doctor.
It's just the drink gars you think sae." "No," he said dully; "the drink's my refuge. It's a kind thing, drink it helps a body." "But, John, nobody believes in these things nowadays. It's just fancy in you. I wonder at a college-bred man like you giving heed to a wheen nonsense!" "Ye ken yoursell it was a byword in the place that he would haunt the House with the Green Shutters."
"What's t' matter wi' you?" This second question was rude and fierce with suspicion: the real woman rang out in it, yet its effect on me was astonishing: once again was I inspired to turn my slip into a move. "Matter?" I cried. "Can't you see what's the matter; couldn't you see when I came in? Drink's the matter! I came in drunk, and now I'm mad. I can't stand it; I'm not in a fit state.
I hope you'll keep gradely teetottal, for the drink's a cheating and lying thing." "I hope so too," said Frank, and then the conversation dropped. But now he remembered that the wine, beer, and spirits which he had ordered were to come that very evening. What was he to do?
They stopped in front of the Benevolent Bar and slowly read the wadding and red-stuff label. Then one of them said he was blessed, or something like that, and another said he was too. The third one said, 'Blessed or not, a drink's a drink. 'Let's have a liquor, little missy.
'I've no quarrel with you, and I've better things to do than be scrapping with a stranger in a public-house. 'Have ye sae? Well, I'll learn ye better. I'm gaun to hit ye, and then ye'll hae to fecht whether ye want it or no. Tam, haud my jacket, and see that my drink's no skailed.
"Near the mid-hour of the night the rush of a horse's feet was heard, and the sound of a rider leaping from its back, and a heavy knock came to the door, accompanied by a voice, saying, 'The cummer drink's hot, and the knave bairn is expected at Laird Laurie's to-night; sae mount, good-wife, and come.
Strong had intended to convey the stranger into Sir Francis's private sitting-room, where the hats of the male guests were awaiting them, and having there soothed his friend by bland conversation, to have carried him off as soon as the cab arrived but the new-comer was in a great state of wrath at the indignity which had been put upon him; and when Strong would have led him into the second door, said in a tipsy voice, "That ain't the door that's the dining-room door where the drink's going on and I'll go and have some, by Jove; I'll go and have some."
"Thought I'd have a sight up and tell you," said Kelly, the postman. "What's the news, Mr. Kelly?" said Cæsar. "The ould Dempster's dying," said Kelly. "You don't say?" said everybody. "Well, as good as dying at ten minutes wanting eight o'clock this morning," said the postman. "The drink's been too heavy for the man," said John, the clerk.
On the 20th of September, which Kerry had set for his last day in the cave, he was moved to begin again at the beginning and tell the big mountaineer all his affairs. "Ye see, it's like this," he wound up: "Katy the best gurrl an' the purtiest I ever set me two eyes on she's got a father that'll strike her when the drink's with him.
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