"Lord of might," said Eustace. "These are of the choicest of the meats and the wines of Arabia."
"Gawd 'elp Arabia, then. An' I asked for beer, B-E-A-R, beer. D'yer mean to say they don't 'ave it in Arabia?"
Eustace shook his head.
"Poor blighters!" put in Bill. "No wonder they're 'eathens."
"Now, look 'ere, Eustace," said Alf instructively. "Beer is—er—beer is—well, it's.... I say, Bill, 'ow the 'ell can yer explain beer to any one as doesn't know what it is?"
"Well," said Bill. "It's brown stuff, made from 'ops an' malt an' such, an' you get it in Blighty—that's England, you savvy—in barrels. Just you 'op over there, an' you'll see. Or any one'll tell you."
This lucid explanation sufficed Eustace, for this time he disappeared with the scorned banquet, and returned in a twinkling with two foaming tankards.
Alf and Bill smelt the contents with grave suspicion, which changed at once to a happy foaming smile apiece.
"That's the goods!" said Alf.
"Ah!" said Bill, smacking his lips with deep satisfaction. "Ole Aladdin knew a thing or two, 'e did. Let's 'ave another o' the same an' drink 'is 'ealth."