ly uncorked one of Bob Burke's bottles.
Whop! went the cork, and the potteen soon was seen meandering round the
table.
"For my part," said Antony Harrison, "I take this dram because I ate
pork, and fear it might disagree with me."
"I take it," said Bob Burke, "chiefly by reason of the fish."
"I take it," said Joe Macgillicuddy, "because the day was warm, and it
is very close in these chambers."
"I take it," said Tom Meggot, "because I have been very chilly all the
day."
"I take it," said Humpy Harlow, "because it is such strange weather that
one does not know what to do."
"I take it," said Jack Ginger, "because the rest of the company takes
it."
"And I take it," said I, winding up the conversation, "because I like a
dram."
So we all took it for one reason or another--and there was an end of
that.
"Be off, Jerry Gallagher," said Jack--"I give to you, your heirs
and assigns, all that and those which remains in the pots of
half-and-half--item for your own dinners what is left of the solids--and
when you have pared the bones clean, you may give them to the poor.
Charity covers a multitude of sins. Brush away like a shoeblack--and
levant."
"Why, thin, God bless your honour," said Jerry Gallagher, "it's a small
liggacy he would have that would dippind for his daily bread for what is
left behind any of ye in the way of the drink--and this blessed hour
there's not as much as would blind the left eye of a midge in one of
them pots--and may it do you all good, if it ain't the blessing of
heaven to see you eating. By my sowl, he that has to pick a bone after
you, won't be much troubled with the mate. Howsomever--"
"No more prate," said Jack Ginger. "Here's twopence for you to buy
some beer--but, no," he continued, drawing his empty hand from that
breeches-pocket into which he had most needlessly put it--"no," said he,
"Jerry--get it on credit wherever you can, and bid them score it to me."
"If they will--" said Jerry.
"Shut the door," said Jack Ginger, in a peremptory tone, and Jerry
retreated.
"That Jerry," said Jack, "is an uncommonly honest fellow, only he is the
d----dest rogue in London. But all this is wasting time--and time is
life. Dinner is over, and the business of the evening is about to
begin. So, bumpers, gentlemen, and get rid of this wine as fast as we
can. Mr Vice, look to your bottles."
And on this, Jack Ginger gave a bumper toast.
CHAPTER III.
HOW WE CONVERSED AT JACK G
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