A SUPERINTENDENT OF THE OLDEN DAYS. 
drew out one of the half- corked bottles, took out the 
cork, poured some of its contents into the tumbler 
and tasted it, and it was brandy. Without any 
hesitation the neighbour poured out the contents of 
the drawn cork-bottles on the mud-floor. He then 
with the heel of his boots tapped all the rest of the 
bottles : after this he sits down at the writing table 
and writes a note, in which he stated he had “looked 
him up.” Thinking he was in bed sick, he had 
hurriedly approached, and unfortunately (?) had broken 
a lot of bottles under the bed. He had found it 
impossible to waken him up, and had no idea he 
was such a sound sleeper; rather odd for an old 
sailor, but doubtless the new clearing was hard work. 
After this he took his departure, being perfectly 
convinced Mr. Kenneth would pay him a visit at 
a very early date; nor was he wrong, for the next 
morning before breakfast he stalked into the verandah, 
looking very shaky and nervous. All he said was 
that he had been suffering from an unusually severe 
attack of fever and ague. Would the neighbour give 
him a “No,” was the reply, “the very 
worst thing you could take for your complaint.” 
Mr. Kenneth sighed and sat down to breakfast, but 
not to eat, for he could not touch any food. While 
sitting at table a kangany came into the verandah 
wishing to speak to “master,” and so “master” 
got up and went out into the verandah to see what 
was wanted. Mr. Kenneth also got up and went 
to the sideboard, opened it quickly, seized hold of a 
bottle half -full of liquor, also of a tumbler, into which he 
poured a large quantity of brandy, till it was more than 
half full and before the neighbour, who just then came in, 
could prevent him, had drunk it off at a draught. 
His host was excessively angry, not only at the act, 
but at the impertinent liberty taken, and told his 
visitor his mind pretty freely — it was evident he had 
not come to see him, but had come for liquor, and 
as he bad got it, he had better be off. But Mr. 
Kenneth had recovered his spirits, or rather the spirits 
be had swallowed began to evaporate. He only laughed 
and commenced to sing an old ship song: 
The sailor loves his bottle, oh, 
His bottle oh, his bottle, oh, 
The sailor loves his bottle, oh. 
So early in the morning! 
So it seems, said his neighbour, so it seems, and 
you seem to love your enemy most. “ Exactly so,” he 
replied, and that is the one good redeeming point in 
my character, “ I love my enemy.” After breakfast, 
the neighbour engaged with him in some serious 
conversation, and pointed out that the line of conduct 
