"Pass along your poison," said he to the bartender.
"What will it be?"
"What will it be! Why wine, what else would it be? Pass along a bottle."
"Large or small?"
"Large or small! Why large, of course! Say, son, what do you take me for?"
The bottle of wine was opened, and the new-comer quenched a willing thirst. He then turned to the crowd that had by this time clustered round him.
"Come on and have a drink, boys," he said, waving the bottle. "Belly-up to this good American timber." He jumped upon the bar and drank again. "Wine, wine! Give them wine, feed the nectar of the gods to the swine! Make 'em happy for once."
Notwithstanding the manner of the invitation, the crowd responded, and soon the two bartenders were busy.
"Stack the empties there so I can see and count 'em; thirty dollars per," and the host pointed to a shelf against the wall.
"Where did you get it?" shouted one of his guests.