'I'll take a little port, _first_, if you please,' replied our friend--as
much as to say, 'I'll finish off with claret.'
'You'll find that very good, I expect,' said Mr. Jawleyford, passing the
bottle to him; 'it's '20 wine--very rare wine to get now--was a very rich
fruity wine, and was a long time before it came into drinking. Connoisseurs
would give any money for it.'
'It has still a good deal of body,' observed Sponge, turning off a glass
and smacking his lips, at the same time holding the glass up to the candle
to see the oily mark it made on the side.
'Good sound wine--good sound wine,' said Mr. Jawleyford. 'Have plenty
lighter, if you like.' The light wine was made by watering the strong.
'Oh no, thank you,' replied Mr. Sponge, 'oh no, thank you. I like good
strong military port.'
'So do I,' said Mr. Jawleyford, 'so do I; only unfortunately it doesn't
like me--am obliged to drink claret. When I was in the Bumperkin yeomanry
we drank nothing but port.' And then Jawleyford diverged into a long
rambling dissertation on messes and cavalry tactics, which nearly sent Mr.
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