--"Here, you old
refuse of Sathan, go to our palace, and fetch Lord Green's morning
draught. Let us see--what shall it be, my lord?--a humming double pot
of ale, with a roasted crab dancing in it like a wherry above bridge?-
-or, hum--ay, young men are sweet-toothed--a quart of burnt sack, with
sugar and spice?--good against the fogs. Or, what say you to sipping a
gill of right distilled waters? Come, we will have them all, and you
shall take your choice.--Here, you Jezebel, let Tim send the ale, and
the sack, and the nipperkin of double-distilled, with a bit of diet-
loaf, or some such trinket, and score it to the new comer."
Glenvarloch, bethinking himself that it might be as well to endure
this fellow's insolence for a brief season, as to get into farther
discreditable quarrels, suffered him to take his own way, without
interruption, only observing, "You make yourself at home, sir, in my
apartment; but, for the time, you may use your pleasure. Meanwhile, I
would fain know what has procured me the honour of this unexpected
visit?"
"You shall know that when old Deb has brought the liquor--I never
speak of business dry-lipped. Why, how she drumbles--I warrant she
stops to take a sip on the road, and then you will think you have had
unchristian measure.--In the meanwhile, look at that dog there--look
Belzebub in the face, and tell me if you ever saw a sweeter beast--
never flew but at head in his life.
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