appeal for custom, the Applicant being apparently one of the big guns
in the Mercury wine trade, and he was not long in importuning _Mr.
Punch_ just to step inside his office, and sample a delicious Lafitte
of the 1874 vintage.

"Now, try that, Sir," he said, at the same time offering _Mr. Punch_ a
glass of the rich ruby-coloured beverage, "and tell me what you think
of it. We have a small parcel of it still left, and could let you have
it at the remarkably low figure of 112s. the dozen."

"It looks all right," drily replied _Mr. Punch_, "but I can't
think how you can sell it at the price." Then holding up the glass
critically, and turning his ring, continued, "How do you manage it?"

"How do I manage it?" replied the unconscious merchant, laughing
heartily at the apparent joke. "Why, my dear Sir, there's not much
difficulty about that. I just make it myself. Listen to my receipt:--

"Potato spirit--that the 'body' finds;
And then, as for colour,
Be it brighter or duller,
You see I am supplied with several kinds,
And as to flavour, I get that desired,
By adding various poisons as required.

[Illustration]

Ha! ha! Let me send you in a few dozen." He offered _Mr. Punch_ an
elaborate price-list as he concluded his self-condemnatory verse with
an obsequious bow.