“Yeah. Aint it a beauty?” Jim got it onto his back to carry to the smokehouse.
That night Charley Wyman stayed to supper at Smith’s. It was too late to get back to Charlevoix. The men washed up and waited in the front room for supper.
“Aint there something left in that crock Jimmy?” A. J. Smith asked and Jim went out to the wagon in the barn and fetched in the jug of whiskey the men had taken hunting with them. It was a four gallon jug and there was quite a little slopped back and forth in the bottom. Jim took a long pull on his way back to the house. It was hard to lift such a big jug up to drink out of it. Some of the whiskey ran down on his shirt front. The two men smiled when Jim came in with the jug. A. J. Smith sent for glasses and Liz brought them. A. J. poured out three big shots.
“Well here’s looking at you A. J.” said Charley Wyman.
“That damn big buck Jimmy.” said A. J.
“Here’s all the ones we missed A. J.” said Jim and downed his liquor.
“Tastes good to a man.”
“Nothing like it this time of year for what ails you.”
“How about another boys?”
“Here’s how A. J.”