"Try this; I believe you will like it better." "In truth, my lord," answered Donal, "I have drunk so little wine that I do not know one sort from another." "You know whisky better, I daresay! Would you like some now?
Touch the bell behind you." "No, thank you, my lord; I know as little about whisky: my mother would never let us even taste it, and I have never tasted it." "A new taste is a gain to the being." "I suspect, however, a new appetite can only be a loss." As he said this, Donal, half mechanically, filled a glass from the decanter his host had pushed towards him.
"I should like you, though," resumed his lordship, after a short pause, "to keep your eyes open to the fact that Davie must do something for himself.

You would then be able to let me know by and by what you think him fit for!" "I will with pleasure, my lord.

Tastes may not be infallible guides to what is fit for us, but they may lead us to the knowledge of what we are fit for." "Extremely well said!" returned the earl.
I do not think he understood in the least what Donal meant.
"Shall I try how he takes to trigonometry?
He might care to learn land-surveying! Gentlemen now, not unfrequently, take charge of the properties of their more favoured relatives.

There is Mr.Graeme, your own factor, my lord--a relative, I understand!" "A distant one," answered his lordship with marked coldness, "-- the degree of relationship hardly to be counted." "In the lowlands, my lord, you do not care to count kin as we do in the highlands! My heart warms to the word kinsman." "You have not found kinship so awkward as I, possibly!" said his lordship, with a watery smile.

"The man in humble position may allow the claim of kin to any extent: he has nothing, therefore nothing can be taken from him! But the man who has would be the poorest of the clan if he gave to every needy relation." "I never knew the man so poor," answered Donal, "that he had nothing to give.