By the time the ladies took their departure, Mr. Jawleyford had somewhat
recovered from the annoyance of his disappointment; and as they retired he
rang the bell, and desired Spigot to set in the horse-shoe table, and bring
a bottle of the "green seal," being the colour affixed on the bottles of a
four-dozen hamper of port ("curious old port at 48_s_.") that had arrived
from "Wintle & Co." by rail (goods train of course) that morning.
"There!" exclaimed Jawleyford, as Spigot placed the richly cut decanter on
the horse-shoe table. "There!" repeated he, drawing the green curtain as if
to shade it from the fire, but in reality to hide the dulness the recent
shaking had given it; "that wine," said he, "is a quarter of a century in
bottle, at the very least."
'Indeed,' observed Sponge: 'time it was drunk.'
'A quarter of a century?' gaped Robert Foozle.
'Quarter of a century if it's a day,' replied Jawleyford, smacking his lips
as he set down his glass after imbibing the precious beverage.
'Very fine,' observed Sponge; adding, as he sipped off his glass, 'it's odd
to find such old wine so full-bodied.
Pages:
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267