"Just in time, too, to pronounce upon a new brewery.

Taste that; a little more of the lemon you would say, perhaps?
Well, I agree with you.

Rum and brandy, glenlivet and guava jelly, limes, green tea, and a slight suspicion of preserved ginger,--nothing else, upon honor,--and the most simple mixture for the cure, the radical cure, of blue devils and debt I know of; eh, Doctor?
You advise it yourself, to be taken before bed-time; nothing inflammatory in it, nothing pugnacious; a mere circulation of the better juices and more genial spirits of the marly clay, without arousing any of the baser passions; whiskey is the devil for that." "I canna say that I dinna like whiskey toddy," said the doctor; "in the cauld winter nights it's no sae bad." "Ah, that's it," said Power; "there's the pull you Scotch have upon us poor Patlanders,--cool, calculating, long-headed fellows, you only come up to the mark after fifteen tumblers; whereas we hot-brained devils, with a blood at 212 degrees of Fahrenheit and a high-pressure engine of good spirits always ready for an explosion, we go clean mad when tipsy; not but I am fully convinced that a mad Irishman is worth two sane people of any other country under heaven." "If you mean by that insin--insin--sinuation to imply any disrespect to the English," stuttered out Sparks, "I am bound to say that I for one, and the doctor, I am sure, for another--" "Na, na," interrupted the doctor, "ye mauna coont upon me; I'm no disposed to fetch ower our liquor." "Then, Major Monsoon, I'm certain--" "Are ye, faith ?" said the major, with a grin; "blessed are they who expect nothing,--of which number you are not,--for most decidedly you shall be disappointed." "Never mind, Sparks, take the whole fight to your own proper self, and do battle like a man; and here I stand, ready at all arms to prove my position,--that we drink better, sing better, court better, fight better, and make better punch than every John Bull, from Berwick to the Land's End." Sparks, however, who seemed not exactly sure how far his antagonist was disposed to quiz, relapsed into a half-tipsy expression of contemptuous silence, and sipped his liquor without reply.
"Yes," said Power, after a pause, "bad luck to it for whiskey; it nearly got me broke once, and poor Tom O'Reilly of the 5th, too, the best-tempered fellow in the service.

We were as near it as touch and go; and all for some confounded Loughrea spirits that we believed to be perfectly innocent, and used to swill away freely without suspicion of any kind." "Let's hear the story," said I, "by all means." "It's not a long one," said Power, "so I don't care if I tell it; and besides, if I make a clean breast of my own sins, I'll insist upon Monsoon's telling you afterwards how he stocked his cellar in Cadiz.

Eh, Major; there's worse tipple than the King of Spain's sherry ?" "You shall judge for yourself, old boy," said Monsoon, good-humoredly; "and as for the narrative, it is equally at your service.