“That’s good,” says he, emphatically; “that’s very good. I ’low I’ve fetched ye up very well.”
Judith came with the bottle and little brown jug: she had displaced me from this occupation.
“O’ course,” says my uncle, in somewhat doubtful and ungenerous invitation, “ye’ll be havin’ a little darn ol’ rum with a ol’ shipmate. Ye’ve doubtless learned manners abroad,” says he.
’Twas a delight to hear the fond fellow tempt me against his will: I smiled.
“Jus’ a little darn, Dannie,” he repeated, but in no convivial way. “Jus’ a little nip––with a ol’ shipmate?”
I laughed most heartily to see Judith’s sisterly concern for me.
“A wee drop?” my uncle insisted, more confidently.
“I’m not used to it, sir,” says I.
“That’s good,” he declared; “that’s very good. Give the devil his due, Dannie: I’ve fetched ye up very well.”