"No, it isn't. We ought to divide even."
"Pooh, you're a woman. You don't need money."
An unpleasant look came over the woman's face, but she said nothing.
"Come, old woman, I've got something that'll put you into good humor. See here!"
Joe produced from an out-of-the-way corner a suspicious-looking jug.
"Do you know what's in this?"
"What is it?" asked the woman, looking interested.
"Whisky. Get some boiling water, and I'll make you some punch. We'll make a night of it."
His wife brightened up. Evidently she did not belong to the Temperance Society, any more than her husband. She moved about the room with alacrity, and, assisted by her husband, brewed a punch which was of considerable strength. Then they put it on the table, and set about enjoying themselves.
"Here's your health, ol' woman!" said Joe, and he tried to sing a stave of an old drinking-song.