THE ANGLERS SOUVENIR. 



39 



pains caught by being out late these chill October 

 evenings how he is enjoying himself at the bottom 

 of my glass. There, the ale has warmed his heart, 

 and away he flies, brisk as a bee that keeps hum- 

 ming soft nonsense to the flowers in July. I will 

 thank you to give the toast again, Simpson. 



SIMPSON". I have no objection ; but I beg to 

 decline drinking it again in ale. 



TWEDDELL. And so do I. I have no objection 

 to drink it again in a tumbler of toddy, if there 

 be any good whisky to be had here. 



SIMPSON. Though you may praise this ale, Mr. 

 Fisher, I confess that I think it rather too old. 

 For the rest of this evening, 



" I abandon all ale 

 And beer that is stale," 



and if no whisky is to be had, I shall be glad to 

 join you, Mr. Tweddell, in a bottle of black-strap. 

 Light dinner wines, abominable compounds of 

 perry and eighteen-penny Cape are my aversion. 

 I wonder how any person who drinks of them 

 escapes the cholera. 



TWEDDELL. I am willing. 



SIMPSON. Waiter, a bottle of your best port. 

 You know where to find it. Of the same that I 

 had last Thursday. A bottle of sherry at the 

 same time : I like a glass of sherry to a cigar. 

 Let me have one of your Havannahs, Tweddell. 



FISHER. I was only in jest when I proposed the 



