“A saw buck extra they always charge
For the stylish mode of extinguishing breath.
A saw buck’s ten dollars. It’s rather large,
But then it ensures you a cocktail death.”
“Vot may that be?” said the driver, meekly,
In the tone of a greatly altered man.
I observed that he seemed to be growing weakly
Since the Professor his story began.
“A cocktail’s a tipple—America vaunts of it—
So flavoured, so foamy, so spiced, and whirled,