The pity of it ! And simultaneously with its departure comes the pronouncement of the medical profession that port (with the exception of the “old crusted” brand) does not encourage gout to abide within the human frame. I may fairly claim to have been a “port man” all my life, and never, when serving Her Majesty, overlooked my orthodox allowance of the “black strap” purchased with the Prince Regent’s allowance. Nevertheless I am not going to recommend this description of wine as an ideal breakfast drink; although very early in {140} life I once made trial of it at nine o’clock one morning.
This was in the good town of Reading, in company with a schoolmate or two. We were on our way home for the holidays, and had been entrusted, for the first part of the journey, to the care of the French master. Him we had evaded for the time being—he was much interested in the manufacture of sweet biscuits—and marching boldly into the best inn’s best room, we demanded bread and cheese and a bottle of the most expensive port on the wine-list. Schoolboy-like our fancy turned to quaintness in the matter of meals; and I am bound to add that the state of our health was not one whit improved by this weird breakfast. As for the French master, no sooner had he run us to earth, than
but that part of the story is too painful to tell.
One of the oldest winter beverages known to civilization is
Bishop,
a composition of port wine and spices of which it has been written:—
Three cups of this a prudent man may take;
The first of these for constitution’s sake,
The second to the girl he loves the best,