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The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Volume 02 by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
page 137 of 185 (74%)
"'Now,' sais I, a-takin' out of a pocket-pistol that I
generally travelled with, 'I think I'll take a drop of
grog;' and arter helpin' myself, I gives the silver cover
of the flask a dip in the brook, (for a clean rinse is
better than a dirty wipe, any time), and sais I, 'Will
you have a little of the "_outpourin' of the spirit?_"
What do you say, Elder?'

"'Thank you,' sais he, 'friend Slick. I never touch
liquor, it's agin our rules.'

"And he stooped down and filled it with water, and took
a mouthful, and then makin' a face like a frog afore he
goes to sing, and swellin' his cheeks out like a Scotch
bagpiper, be spit it all out. Sais he, 'That is so warm,
it makes me sick; and as I ain't otherwise well, from
the celestial exhaustion of a protracted meetin', I
believe I will take a little drop, as medicine.'

"Confound him! if he'd a said he'd only leave a little
drop, it would a been more like the thing; for he e'en
a'most emptied the whole into the cup, and drank it off
clean, without winkin'.

"'It's a "_very refreshin' time_,"' sais I, 'ain't' it?'
But he didn't make no answer. Sais I, 'that's a likely
beast of yourn, Elder,' and I opened her mouth, and took
a look at her, and no easy matter nother, I tell you,
for she held on like a bear trap, with her jaws. "'She
won't suit you,' sais he, "with a smile, 'Mr. Slick.'
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