The brandy had a rather contrary effect from what it does usually; it did settle Smith—in five minutes he was so very "boozy" that his chin bore down upon his breast, he became as "limber as a rag," and snored like a pair of bagpipes.
"Now, Jones," says Hall, "let's be off. Landlord, get us a gig, wagon, carriage, cart, any thing, and let's be off; we must be in town immediately."
"Sorry, gentlemen, but can't oblige you—haven't a vehicle on the premises!"
"Why, confound it, you don't pretend to say you can't send us into town to-night, do you?" says Jones, waxing uneasy.
"Haven't you a horse, jackass, mule or a wheelbarrow—any thing, so we can be carted in, right off, too?" says Hall.
"Can't help it, gentlemen."
"What time do the cars come along?" eagerly inquires Jones.
"About nine o'clock," coolly replies the host.
"Nine fools!" shouted the discomfited alderman. "But this won't do; come, Jones, no help for it—can't fool us in that way—eight miles to the City Hall—two hours to do it in; off coat and let's foot it!"