"Now there's a bad word in its context," said Alan gravely. "You know nothing about cats, Mac, m'boy. Nobody was ever a cat's master. If Napoleon kept a cat, it bullied him."
"Napoleon, my illiterate friend, had an intense fear of cats. So obviously he didn't own one."
"If Tamerlane had a cat, it bullied him. If Genghis Khan—"
"You've made your point. Send the alky on its way," said Don.
"Brave, pass around the old ivy-covered pewter mugs," Alan said grandly, rolling over and precipitating a furious Unquote to the rug. "While you're at it, get some old ivy-covered crackers and cheese."
"I could stomach an old ivy-covered potato chip," murmured Rob Pope.
"Let's have a little masculine nostalgia," said Bill. "Let's remember Oxford, Brave."
Four strictly-American-college men hooted him down.
Brave brought glasses and a tray of snacks, and, thoughtfully, a dish of milk for Unquote. "Here comes old ivy-covered Brave now," said Rob. The big Indian emptied a fifth of rye into the glasses. Jim picked up the empty bottle, regarded it like Hamlet with the skull of Yorick, and said, "Blessed blue ruin, how I love thee. Omar had nothing on McEldownie."