And ours shall be a large yet brimming tankard
Of real wholesome stuff, brew’d out of roasted grain.
Beer, boys, beer! no more of gentian’s nausea;
Beer, boys, beer! with liquorice away!
Beer, boys, beer! no logwood chips or quassia,
Beer! boys, beer, which is all I have to say!
Diogenes, Vol. II. 1853.
——:o:——
THE GOOD TIME COMING.
There’s a good time coming, boys,