And now, O inexperienced Titmouse! unacquainted with the potent qualities of wine, I warn you to be cautious how you drink many glasses, for you cannot calculate the effect which they will have upon you; and, indeed, methinks that with this man you have a game to play which will not admit of much wine being drunk. Be you, therefore, on your guard; for wine is like a strong serpent, who will creep unperceivedly into your empty head, and coil himself up therein, until at length he begins to move about—and all things are as nought to you!
"Oh, sir, 'pon my honor, beg you won't name it—all one to me, sir!—Beautiful wine this, sir."
"Pretty fair, I think—certainly rather old;—but what fruit will you take—raspberries or cherries?"
"Why—a—I've so lately dined," replied Titmouse, alluding to the brace of biscuits on which he had luxuriated several hours before. He would have preferred the cherries, but did not feel quite at his ease how to dispose of the stones nicely—gracefully—so he took a very few raspberries upon his plate, and ate them slowly, and with a modest and timid air.
"Well, Mr. Titmouse," commenced Gammon, with an air of concern, "I was really much distressed by your last letter!"
"Uncommon glad to hear it, sir—knew you would, sir—you're so kind-hearted;—all quite true, sir!"
"I had no idea that you were reduced to such straits," said Gammon, in a sympathizing tone, but settling his eye involuntarily on the ring of Titmouse.
"Quite dreadful, sir—'pon my soul, dreadful; and such usage at Mr. Tag-rag's!"
"But you mustn't think of going abroad—away from all your friends, Mr. Titmouse."
"Abroad, sir!" interrupted Titmouse, with anxious but subdued eagerness; "never thought of such a thing!"