"What would I not give for a glass of whisky! 'Tis pig-wash, this same."
"It is certainly not the milk of Paradise," said Philip, in disgust.
Don Miguel had retired for a moment in search of cigars for the party, so they could express themselves freely to Jack. They took full advantage of the opportunity.
"The Mexicans say the angels in heaven prefer it to wine," said Jack, who had finished his glass with great gusto. "They have a proverb:
"'Lo beben, los angeles
En vez de vino.'"
"I can't say much for the angels' taste, then," retorted Philip, crossly. "Nastier stuff I never drank. Raki is bad enough, but it's nectar compared with pulque."
Jack laughed heartily at the wry faces made by his friends, and comforted them after the manner of Job's acquaintances.
"You'll have to drink it, however. Don Miguel will be offended if you do not."
They all promptly poured the liquor into some of the flower-bearing jars which happened, fortunately enough, to be handy.