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Updated: June 29, 2025
There were symptoms of thaw stirring in Poussette, and the minister did his best to encourage them, but on the Saturday afternoon following his return, when it was necessary to hold some sustained business conversation with his patron, the latter could not be found. The bar was a model of Saturday cleanliness, damp and tidy, smelling equally of lager beer and yellow soap.
The sign of the little café from without read: "A LA VILLE DE ROUEN. J. PIGAULT. LAGER BEER. FINE WINES AND LIQUEURS." But its regular patrons knew it best from within, from the warm tables they liked to scan the letters backward, against the glass that protected them from the winter's night.
We instantly wheeled off as if we were retreating, but, in fact, we merely pretended to retire and galloped round across plowed land to the other side of the spinney, fired on the men, and they mounted their horses and flew like lightning out of their 'supper room. They left a finely cooked repast of beef-steaks, onions and fried potatoes all ready and done to a turn, with about fifty bottles of Pilsner lager beer, which was an acceptable relish to our meal.
"Which of you beat? Or should I say 'won!" she asked. Major Flint's long moustache was dripping with Lager beer, and he made a dexterous, sucking movement. "Well, the Army and the Navy had it out," he said. "And if for once Britain's Navy was not invincible, eh, Puffin?" Captain Puffin limped away pretending not to hear, and took his heaped plate and brimming glass in the direction of Irene.
He regarded it as the German regards his lager, whereas we know you and I that it is an Eleusinian mystery; that true communicants must retreat to the temple of the goddess if they would partake of Paradise with her." "It is perhaps a question of temperament," said M. Gaston, speaking in a singularly tremulous voice.
Hood was a graduate of West Point, and so was Sherman. He, no doubt, had on board mein lager beer, so goot as vat never vas. I sweitzer, mein Got, you bet. Bang, bang, bang, goes our skirmish line advancing to the attack. Hans, vat fer ish dot shooting mit mein left wing? Ish dot der Repels, Hans?
The trolleys and waggons that had to cross to the lager on the opposite side gave us much trouble, as they sank deep into the sand. We harnessed a double span of oxen to the waggons, undressed ourselves, and had to swim alongside the animals to get them through. Occasionally something dropped from one of the waggons and had to be fished up in a hurry to save it from the strong current.
Sending into the village for eggs, sugar, and tea, the chapar- khana keeper and stablemen produce a battered samovar, and after frying my supper, they prepare tea; they are poor, ragged fellows, but they seem light-hearted and contented; the siren song of the steaming samovar seems to a waken in their semi-civilized breasts a sympathetic response, and they fall to singing and making merry over tiny glasses of sweetened tea quite as naturally as sailors in a seaport groggery, or Germans over a keg of lager.
Sometimes they stayed up at the tavern, drinking and carousing with the Dutch travellers who brought the supplies of Hollands and Cape brandy and lager beer, and the American or English gold-miners and German drummers who put up there from time to time. Then the child lay in the outhouse alone. It was a frail, puny creature, always frightened and silent.
'Two queens with but a single ace, Two sharps that beat as one. That's no hand to tackle a one-card draw with. Never you mind whether he's bluffing or not. There ain't enough in that pot to warrant the expense of testing the question. Take another deal. What did you say, Muldoon? Whiskey? No! Throw whiskey to the dogs; I'll none of it. Give me foaming lager. That's right, my doughboy ancient.
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