You are the man for a cork like that--and Todd!--hand Major Clayton the corkscrew and one of those silver nutpicks." The Honorable Prim bent closer.

"What is it, St.George, some old Port ?" he asked in a perfunctory way.

Rare old wines never interested him.
"They are an affectation," he used to say.
"No, Seymour--it's really a bottle of the Peter Remsen 1817 Madeira." The bottle was passed, every eye watching it with the greatest interest.
"No, never mind the corkscrew, Todd,--I'll pick it out," remarked the major, examining the hazardous cork with the care of a watchmaker handling a broken-down chronometer.

"You're right, St.George--it's too far gone.

Don't watch me, Seymour, or I'll get nervous.