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I was vexed at the intrusion; but prompted by some impulse of curiosity, I lay still and listened. Barney was speaking as they approached. "In trath, Misther Gowdey, an' it's meself 'ud go far this blissed night for a dhrap o' the crayter. I noticed the little kig afore; but divil resave me av I thought it was anythin' barrin' cowld water.
"Well, Misther Gowdey," continued he, "whisky's whisky at any rate; and if we can't get the butther, it's no raison we should refuse the brid; so I'll thank ye for another small thrifle out of the kig," and the speaker held out his tin vessel to be replenished. Gode lifted the keg, and emptied more of its contents into their cups. "Mon Dieu! what is dis in my cops?" exclaimed he, after a draught.
Vistment! only think o' the owld Dutch sinner bringin' a whole kig wid 'im, an' keepin' it all to himself. Yez are sure now it's the stuff?" "Oui! oui! C'est liqueur! aguardiente." "Agwardenty, ye say, div ye?" "Oui! c'est vrai, Monsieur Barney. I have him smell, ver many time. It is of stink tres fort: strong! good!" "But why cudn't ye stale it yerself?
Narcisse bowed solemnly. "Gone, Mistoo Itchlin. Since the seventeenth of last; yesseh. 'Kig the bucket, as the povvub say." He showed an extra band of black drawn neatly around his new straw hat. "I thought it but p'opeh to put some moaning as a species of twibute." He restored the hat to his head. "You like the tas'e of that, Mistoo Itchlin?"
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