"Bad luck to him, then! Give us yer hand; there!" with a grip like a
vise. "Bill Cronk never went back on a man he took to. I tell yer what,
stranger," said he, becoming confidential, "when I saw yer glowering
and blinking here in the corner as if yer was listening to yer own
funeral sermon, I be ---- if I could take a comfortable drink. Come,
now, take a good swig of old rye, and see how things will mellow up."

Our good Samaritan in this case was a very profane and disreputable
one, as many are in this medley world. He had a great, kindly nature,
that was crawling and grovelling in all sorts of low, unseemly places,
instead of growing straight up toward heaven.

"I hope you will think me none the less friendly if I decline," said
Dennis. "I would drink with you as quick as with any man living, but
it is a thing I never do."

"Oh, you're temperance, are yer? Well, I don't think none the wuss of
yer for standing by yer colors. Between us, it would be better for me
if I was a little more so. Hang it all! I take a drop too much now and
then. But what is a fellow to do, roughing it up and down the world
like me? I should often get lonely and mope in the corner as you did,
if I didn't get up steam. When I am down in the mouth I take a drink
to 'liven me up, and when I feel good I take a drink to make me feel
better. When I wouldn't take a drink on my own hook, I meet somebody
that I'd ought to drink with. It is astonishing how many occasions
there are to drink, 'specially when a man's travelling, like me."

"No fear but what the devil will make occasions enough," said Dennis.

"What has the devil got to do with it?" asked the man, gruffly.