"Rather heavy toll, it strikes me," replied Mrs. Jones.
Meantime, Mr. Smith, having completed most of his business for that day, stopped at a store where he wished two or three articles put up. While these were in preparation he said to the keeper of the store,
"I wish you would let your lad Tom step over for me to Mr. Jones's. I left a demijohn of common wine there, which I bought for the purpose of making it into antimonial wine.
"O! certainly," replied the store-keeper. "Here, Tom!" and he called for his boy.
Tom came, and the store-keeper said to him,
"Run over to Mr. Jones's and get a jug of antimonial wine which Mr.
Smith left there. Go quickly, for Mr. Smith is in a hurry."
"Yes, sir," replied the lad, and away he ran.
After Mr. Jones had disposed of his half a pint of wine, he thought his stomach had rather a curious sensation, which is not much to be wondered at, considering the stuff with which he had burdened it.
"I wonder if that really is wine?" said he, turning from the window at which he had seated himself, and taking up tie demijohn again. The cork was removed, and his nose applied to the mouth of the huge bottle.
"Yes, it's wine; but I'll vow it's not much to brag of." And the cork was once more replaced.