"If you even sniff one of those bottles," the conductor warned him, "I'll crack it over your head."
"That won't worry me none—as long as my mouf's open." He smacked his chops over the prospect of intimacy with that liquid treasury. "Lordy! Well, I'll try to control my emotions—but remember, I don't guarantee nothin'."
The conductor started to go, but paused for final instructions: "And remember—after we get to Utah you can't serve any hard liquor at all."
"What's that? Don't they 'low nothin' in that old Utah but ice-cream soda?"
"That's about all. If you touch a drop, I'll leave you in Utah for life."
"Oh, Lordy, I'll be good!"
The conductor left the excited black and went his way. Ashton was the first to speak: "Say, Porter, can you mix drinks?"
The porter ruminated, then confessed: "Well, not on the outside, no, sir. If you-all is thirsty you better order the simplest things you can think of. If you was to command anything fancy, Lord knows what you'd get. Supposin' you was to say, 'Gimme a Tom Collins.' I'd be just as liable as not to pass you a Jack Johnson."
"Well, can you open beer?"
"Oh, I'm a natural born beer-opener."