Mr. Benjamin Allen smiled his readiness, and produced from the closet at his elbow a black bottle half full of brandy.

“You don’t take water, of course?” said Bob Sawyer.

“Thank you,” replied Mr. Winkle. “It’s rather early. I should like to qualify it, if you have no objection.”

“None in the least, if you can reconcile it to your conscience,” replied Bob Sawyer, tossing off, as he spoke, a glass of the liquor with great relish. “Ben, the pipkin!”