"One mug is good enough for us. If we liquored-up a dozen times--which, by
the way, we never do--one of these wines is pretty well like another, and
if there was a slight difference it would not matter."
When the board was cleared a large jug was placed before Terence, and some
water-bottles at various points of the table.
"I thought, Colonel, that you might prefer spirits even to the wine,"
Terence said.
"And you are right, O'Connor. A good glass of wine after a good dinner is
no bad thing, but after such a meal as we have eaten I think that even
this bastely spirit of theirs--which, after all, is not so bad when you
get accustomed to it--is better than wine; it settles matters a bit."
Terence poured some of the spirit from a jug into his tin and filled it up
with water. "Help yourself," he said, passing the jug to O'Grady, who sat
next to him.
O'Grady was about to do so when he suddenly set the jug down.
"By the powers," he exclaimed, in astonishment, "but it is the real
cratur!"
"Go on, O'Grady, go on, the others are all waiting while you are looking
at it. If you feel too surprised to take it, pass the jug on."
O'Grady grasped it. "I will defind it wid me life!" he exclaimed. In the
meantime the colonel had filled his mug.
"Gentlemen," he said, solemnly, after raising it to his lips, "O'Grady is
right; it is Irish whisky, and good at that.
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