Reverting to David Burus: on one occasion I remonstrated with him on the amount of whisky he drank.
'I did drink a great deal of whisky, and I would have drunk more.' was his reply, 'if I had known it was going to be as dear as it is now.'
He evidently regretted not having thoroughly saturated himself with alcohol. It was the only way in which he could have possibly increased his consumption.
He was wont to say that if he had known the trick Mr. Gladstone was going to play on honest, God-fearing men, with sound stomachs and a decent appetite, by imposing a ten shilling duty on every gallon of whisky, he would have drunk his fill beforehand, even if delirium tremens had been the penalty.
Such hard drinking as his, and so calmly avowed, must, even in the south of Ireland, be fortunately rare, for few constitutions can stand conversion into animated whisky vats.
There was a farmer at Kanturk railway station who confided to the stationmaster that he himself on the previous evening had been as drunk as the very devil.
A parson on the platform, overhearing him, said:—
'You make a mistake, my friend, the devil does not drink. He keeps his head cool for the express purpose of watching such as you.'
The countryman replied:—
'You seem to be very well acquainted with the respected gentleman's habits, your riverince.'