The bar-tender brought a bottle, a pitcher of water, two glasses, and a bowl of sugar.
"Yes," replied the boy, sadly, "I s'pose we've got to. Gran'pa Simon, he's been 'pointed my garden. He ain't so bad a man as he used to be, Gran'pa Simon ain't. He's been sick a good deal lately, I guess."
Rhyming Joe paid no attention to these last remarks, but he seemed to be deeply interested in the law-suit mentioned. He took time to pour some of the contents of the bottle into each glass, then he filled the glasses up with water and stirred a goodly quantity of sugar into the one he pushed toward Ralph.
"What is it?" asked the boy. "Uncle Billy an' me's temperance; we don't drink nothin' much but water."
"Oh!" responded Joe, "this is purely a temperance drink; it's made up from wheat, just the same as you get in your white bread. They have to drink it here in Wilkesbarre, the water is so bad.
"When man and water both are ill,
A little wheat-juice fills the bill.
"Try some, you'll find it good."
Ralph was thirsty, and he sipped a little of the mixture; but he did not like it very well, and he drank no more of it.
"Who is going to carry on the suit for you?" continued Rhyming Joe; "have you got a lawyer?"
"Oh, yes! Lawyer Sharpman; he's very smart, too. He's goin' to manage it."