Pearson's Xane 



of a bottle projecting from it. Drawing it from 

 its long-time resting place, it proved to be a 

 quaint green-glass bottle of curious shape, one of 

 the "Jersey Pines" glassworks product of more 

 than a century ago. The lantern, at this moment, 

 suddenly grew bright, as if it was thrilled by the 

 discovery, and I read in the flash, " Currant wine, 

 1802." I gave my lips an anticipatory smack, 

 and, with a firm grip on my treasure, passed to 

 the welcome sunshine, never thinking I was on 

 another's ground 



" What you got ? " asked the old man. 



" Oh, nothing." 



"Too big for nothin', and in a bottle, too. 

 Let 's taste." 



There was nothing else to do, and, calling to 

 my companion, we went into the kitchen. My 

 precious wine must be sacrificed. I handed the 

 bottle to the old man to open, which he did, pull- 

 ing the bit of waxed corn-cob with his teeth quite 

 dexterously. In the green glass tumblers that he 

 had previously set out, no trace of the wine's color 

 could be seen, and the atmosphere of the kitchen 

 effectually prevented our detecting any fragrance, 

 did it exist. The two tumblers were nearly filled, 

 and offered us; we took them with thanks, and 

 at the same moment brought them to our lips. 

 Instantly they were withdrawn, and, with a bound 

 that would have done credit to an athlete, the 

 mathematician made for the spring-house, and I 

 191 



