Our libations were certainly carried rather to
an extremity, but our merriment corresponded therewith. There was one
morning, indeed, that several of the gentlemen were considerably hurt, and
there were marks of blood on the plaster, but no one could tell what had
happened. It appeared that there had been a quarrel, but none of us knew
what about, or who it was that fought.
But the most amusing part of the ploy (and a very amusing part it was)
regarded a half hogshead of ale, that was standing in the lobby to clear
for bottling. On the very first forenoon, our thirst was so excessive,
that the farmer contrived to insert a spigot into this huge cask, and
really such a treasure I think was hardly ever opened to a set of poor
thirsty spirits. Morning, noon, and night, we were running with jugs to
this rich fountain, and handing the delicious beverage about to lips that
glowed with fervour and delight. In a few days, however, it wore so low,
that before any would come, one was always obliged to hold it up behind;
and, finally, it ran dry.
On the very morning after that, the farmer came in with a wild raised
look. "Gentlemen," said he, "get your hats--haste ye--an' let us gang an'
tak a lang wauk, for my mother an' the lasses are on a-scrubbing a whole
floorfu' o' bottles; an' as I cam by, I heard her speaking about getting
the ale bottled the day."
* * * * *
THE SKETCH-BOOK.
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