“Nay—Well, I’ll do that. But it looks like physic.”
The speaker just dipped his fore-finger into the liquid, and touched his lips, to cry angrily—
“Why, it’s pison!”
“No,” said the doctor; “proof alcohol for preserving my specimens. If by accident any of the men taste that they won’t want any more, will they?”
“Don’t know,” said the captain. “Maybe they’d water it down.”
“Fill that measure with water, Rodd,” said the doctor.
The boy took the glass to a big stone filter covered with basketwork, and filled the measure to the brim.
“Now try it, captain,” said the doctor.
This time with a scowl of dislike, the captain raised the glass to his lips, but set it down again quickly and hurried to a little leaden sink in one corner of the laboratory.
“Worse than ever, doctor.”