hen," says my uncle, grimly, "you'll be wantin' a drap."

'Twas true enough, by my uncle's mysterious perversity: a drop would
be wanted, indeed.

"Dannie, lad," he commanded, "fetch that there bottle!"

Cather tossed his head, with a brief little laugh, and then, resigned
to my uncle's idiosyncrasy--divining the importance of it--gave me a
quick nod of permission: the which I was glad to get, aware, as I
was, of the hospitable meaning of my uncle's invitation and his
sensitiveness in respect to its reception. So I got the ill-seeming
black bottle from the locker, the tray and glasses and little brown
jug from the pantry, the napkin from Agatha, in a flutter in the
kitchen, and having returned to the best room, where the tutor
awaited the event in some apparent trepidation, I poured my uncle's
dram, and measured an hospitable glass for Cather, but with less
generous hand, not knowing his capacity, but shrewdly suspecting its
inferiority. The glasses glittered invitingly in the light of the fire
and lamp, and the red liquor lay glowing within: an attractive
draught, no doubt--to warm, upon that windy night, and to appetize
for the belated meat.

"T' you, parson!" says my uncle.

I touched the tutor's elbow.

"Water?" says he, in doubt. "Is it the custom?"

"Leave un be, Dannie."

"Whatever the custom," my tutor began, "of course--"

"'Tis wise," I ventured; minded to this by the man's awkward handling
of the glass.

"For shame, Dannie!" cries my uncle. "Leave the parson take his
liquor as he will. 'Tis easy t' see he likes it neat."

Cather was amused.

"T' you, parson!" says my uncle.

The tutor laughed as he raised the glass of clear rum. I watched him
with misgiving, alive to all the signs of raw procedure--the crook of
his elbow, the tilt of the glass, the lift of his head. "To you, sir!"
said he: and resolutely downed it. 'Twas impressive then, I recall, to
observe his face--the spasm of shock and surprise, the touch of
incredulity, of reproachful complaint, as that hard liquor coursed
into his belly. 'Twas over in a moment--the wry mouth of it, the
shudder--'twas all over in a flash. My tutor commanded his features,
as rarely a man may, into stoical disregard of his internal
sensations, and stood rigid, but calm, gripping the back of his chair,
his teeth set, his lips congealed in an unmeaning grin, his eyes,
which ran water against his will, fixed in mild reproach upon my
beaming uncle, turning b