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Updated: June 4, 2025
Hutchinson Port's travelling-flask of peculiar old Otard, which together contributed calmness and strength, and being refreshed by a little slumber Grace was able to explain in an intelligible manner the adventure that had befallen her. "And no matter what dreadful crimes that horrible man may have committed," she said, in conclusion. "I shall be most grateful to him to my dying day.
Take of pure spirit 1 gallon, best French brandy, or any kind you wish to imitate, even Otard, 1 quart; loaf sugar 2 oz., sweet spirits of nitre 1/2 oz., a few drops of tincture of catechu, or oak bark, to roughen the taste if desired; colour to suit your taste, and bottle.
"Not that," said the Colonel to the bar-keeper, who shoved along the counter a bottle of apparently corn-whiskey, as if he had done it before on the same order; "not that," with a wave of the hand. "That Otard if you please. Yes. Never take an inferior liquor, gentlemen, not in the evening, in this climate. There. That's the stuff. My respects!"
You called it Bourbon, or Cognac, or Old Otard, very likely, but what was it? The "glorious uncertainty" of drinking liquor under these circumstances is enough to make a man's head swim without his getting drunk at all. There might, perhaps, be found a consolation like that of the Western traveller about the hash.
A man has got to have a morocco book of expensive flies, a fifteen dollar bamboo jointed rod, a three dollar trout basket with a hole mortised in the top, a corduroy suit made in the latest style, top boots of the Wellington pattern, with red tassels in the straps, and a flask of Otard brandy in a side pocket.
The head of the family was a plain, matter-of-fact old gentleman, by no means likely to give way to any superstitious terrors one of your hard-headed business men who pooh-poohed demons, hobgoblins, and all other kinds of spirits, except the purest Santa Cruz and genuine old Otard; and he fell into a great rage, when upon his repeated gruff demands for an explanation, he was delicately informed that his parlor was "haunted."
"Not that," said the Colonel to the bar-keeper, who shoved along the counter a bottle of apparently corn-whiskey, as if he had done it before on the same order; "not that," with a wave of the hand. "That Otard if you please. Yes. Never take an inferior liquor, gentlemen, not in the evening, in this climate. There. That's the stuff. My respects!"
Here, on the rich sward and delicate mosses, under the shadow of some willows, we spread out our repast by the side of a clear mountain-spring; and, to say nothing of old Otard and Schiedam Schnapps, opened some bottles of Sparkling Catawba, and old Jersey Champagne, of a remote vintage, which I have now quite forgotten.
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