"O, yes, I will drink with you."
"Cold-water?"
"Of course."
"One julep, and a glass of Adam's-ale," said Loring, turning to the bar-keeper.
They were soon presented, glasses touched, heads bobbed, and the contents of the two tumblers poured down their respective gullets.
"It makes a chill go over me to see you drinking that stuff," Loring said, with an expression of disgust on his face.
"Every one to his taste, you know," was Haley's half-indifferent response.
"You'll be over to-night, I suppose?" said a young man, stepping up to him, as the two emerged from the "Coffee"-house—precious little coffee was ever seen there.
"O, yes,—of course."
"You'd better not come."