“It’s for the men,” said the skipper, “but you may take a drop.”
The mate, taking down a glass, helped himself liberally, and, having made sure of it, sympathetically, but politely, expressed his firm opinion that the men would not touch it under any conditions whatever.
“You don’t quite understand how firm they are,” said he; “you think it’s just a new fad with ’em, but it ain’t.”
“They’ll drink it,” said the skipper, taking up two of the bottles. “Bring the other on deck for me.”
The mate complied, wonderingly, and, laden with prime old Jamaica, ascended the steps.
“What’s this?” inquired the skipper, crossing over to Dick, and holding out a bottle.
“Pison, sir,” said Dick promptly.
“Have a drop,” said the skipper jovially.
“Not for twenty pounds,” said the old man, with a look of horror.
“Not for two million pounds,” said Sam, with financial precision.