"Here's to old Gregory and his first drunk!"
Tin cups had been produced, and the bung of one of the barrels started ... the boys lifted their full, foaming cups in unison.
"Bottoms up!"
I joined in the drinking, despite my previous protestation that I would not....
"Where's the old boy that runs this farm?"
"All the family's probably in town, this being Saturday afternoon."
"Let's whoop 'er up, then!"
We sang and shouted at the top of our voices.
The cups had been four times filled.
Though I had poured half of mine on the ground, I already felt dizzy. But also a pleasant tingling, a warmth, was slowly increasing in my nerves and veins and body ... an increased sense of well-being permeated me. I stopped spilling my beer on the ground and drank it eagerly.