"No, I won't drink wine," said the csikós. "Bring me bottled beer."
Bottled beer cannot be poisoned. Once the cork is drawn it all froths out.
The girl understood the insinuation. Crushing down the bitterness in her heart she soon returned with a bottle, which she placed before the lad.
"What is this?" he cried. "Am I a cobbler's apprentice, to have one bottle brought me?"
"Very well, sir. Please don't be angry. I'll bring more directly."
This time she came back with a whole bundle, and set all six in a row before him.
"That is better," said he.
"Shall I draw the cork?"
"Thanks! I can do it myself."
He took the first bottle, broke off the neck against the edge of the table, and poured the foaming beer into the tall glass beside him. It costs more like this, because the broken bottle has to be paid for; but then, "a gentleman is always the gentleman."