KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 


23 

“You can’t deny it, Burley ; your wines of all | an older wine—softer. 
kinds, were detestable—port, Madeira, claret, 
champagne—” 
“There now, sir! to prove how much gentlemen 
may be mistaken, I assure you, sir, as I’m an 
honest man, I never had but two sorts of wine in 
my cellar—port and sherry.” 
“How! when I myself have tried your claret, 
your—”’ 
oe Yes, sir—my claret, sir. One is obliged to 
give gentlemen everything they ask for, sir; gen- 
tlemen who pay their money, sir, have a right to 
be served with whatever they may please to order, 
sir—especially the young gentlemen from Cam- 
bridge, sir. I'll tell you how it was, sir. I would 
never have any wines in my house, sir, but port 
and sherry, because I knew them to be wholesome 
wines, sir; and this I will say, sir, my port and 
sherry were the—very—best I could procure in all 
England.” 
“How! the best?” 
“Yes, sir—at the price I paid for them. But 
to explain the thing at once, sir. You must know, 
sir, that I hadn’t been long in business, when I 
discovered that gentlemen know very little about 
wine ; but that if they didn’t find some fault or 
other, they would appear to know much less— 
always excepting the young gentlemen from Cam- 
bridge, sir ; and they are excellent judges!”’ [And 
here again Burley’s little eyes twinkled a humorous 
commentary on the concluding words of his sen- 
tence.] “ Well, sir; with respect to my dinner 
wines, I was always tolerably safe ; gentlemen sel- 
dom find fault at dinner; so whether it might hap- 
pen to be Madeira, or pale sherry, or brown, or—”’ 
“Why, just now you told me you had but two 
sorts of wine in your cellar!” 
“Very true, sir; port and sherry. But this 
was my plan, sir. If any one ordered Madeira :— 
From one bottle of sherry take two glasses of 
wine, which replace by two glasses of brandy, 
and add thereto a slight squeeze of lemon; and 
this I found to give general satisfaction, especially 
to the young gentlemen from Cambridge, sir. But, 
upon the word of an honest man, I could scarcely 
_ get a living profit by my Madeira, sir, for I always 
used the best brandy. As to the pale and brown 
sherry, sir—a couple of glasses of nice pure water, 
in place of the same quantity of wine, made what 
I used to call my delicate pale (by-the-by, a 
squeeze of lemon added to that made a very fair 
Bucellas, sir—a wine not much called for now, 
sir): and for my old brown sherry, a leetle burnt 
sugar was the thing. It looked very much like 
sherry that had been twice to the East Indies, 
sir; and, indeed, to my customers who were very 
particular about their wihes, I used to serve it as 
such.” 
“But, Mr. Burley, was not such a proceeding 
of a character rather—” 
““T guess what you would say, sir; but I knew 
it to be a wholesome wine at bottom, sir. But my 
port was the wine which gave me the most trouble. 
Gentlemen seldom agree about port, sir. One 
gentleman would say, ‘Burley, I don’t like this 
wine—it is too heavy!” ‘Isit, sir? I think I can 
find you a lighter.” Out went a glass of wine, 
and am went a glass of water. ‘Well, sir,’ I’d 
‘say, ‘ how do you approve of that?’ Why—um, 
—no; I can’tsay—’ ‘I understand, sir, you like 

I think I can please you, 
sir.’ Pump again, sir. ‘Now, sir,’ says I (wiping 
the decanter with a napkin, and triumphantly 
holding it up to the light), ‘try this, if you please.’ 
‘ That’s it, Burley—that’s the very wine; bring 
another bottle of the same.’ But one can’t please 
everybody the same way, sir. Some gentlemen 
would complain of my port being poor—without 
body. In went one glass of brandy. If that 
didn’t answer, “Aye, gentlemen,’ says I, ‘I know 
what will please you,—you like a fuller bodied, 
rougher wine.’ Out went two glasses of wine, and 
in went two or three glasses of brandy. This used 
to be a very favorite wine—but only with the 
young gentlemen from Cambridge, sir.” 
‘ And your claret ? ” 
“My good wholesome port again, sir. Three 
wines out, three waters in, one pinch of tartaric 
acid, two ditto orris-powder. For a fuller claret, 
a little brandy ; for a lighter claret, more 
water.” 
‘But how did you contrive about Burgundy ?” 
“That was my claret, sir, with from three to six - 
drops of bergamot, according as gentlemen liked 
a full flavor or a delicate flavor. As for cham- 
pagne, sir, that, of course, I made myself.” 
“How do you mean ‘of course,’’ Burley?” 
‘Oh, sir,” said he, with an innocent yet waggish 
look; ‘‘surely everybody makes his own cham- 
pagne—else what can become of all the goose- 
berries 2” 
We sincerely hope, as ouR JoURNAL finds its 
way into all places of public hospitality (we 
do not like the word “ Inns”), that some of 
the gentleman-connoisseurs in wine will take 
it up after dinner, and indulge in a hearty 
roar. 
If we were to laugh at ourselves more fre- 
quently than we do, it would be better for us 
—and for the public too! 

SONG. 

My Hetey! leave thy silken thread 
And flowery tapestrie : 
Come, see the roses on the bush, 
The blossoms on the tree ; 
Stoop where thou wilt, thy lovely hand 
Some random bud will meet; 
Thou can’st not tread, but thou wilt find 
The daisy at thy feet. 
"Tis like the birthday of the world, 
When earth was born in bloom; 
The light is made of many dyes, 
The air is all perfume. 
Lo! crimson buds, and white and blue; 
The very rainbow showers 
Have turned to blossoms where they fell, 
And sown the earth with flowers. 
Lo! fairy tulips in the east, 
The garden of the sun; 
Aye, every stream reflects the hues 
And blossoms as they run ; 
While morn opes like a crimson rose, 
Still wet with pearly showers ; 
Then Huten, leave the silken thread 
Thou twinest into flowers! 

SR 
