The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Volume 02 by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
page 137 of 185 (74%)
page 137 of 185 (74%)
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"'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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