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 de- 

 cline 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 whiskey 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 whiskey 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 won- 

 der 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. 



FISHEK. I was only in jest when I proposed the 

 other pint, as I knew that you would both shy at it. 

 G-ood ale is now scarcely to be had, the more is the 



