“Not much duty paid on this, I suspect, Mr Ramrod,” he observed, as he smacked his lips after the first mouthful.
“Can’t say, sir. They say that the revenue does not benefit from any that’s drunk in Fairport.”
“A gift of our friend Buntin’s, probably,” hazarded the officer.
“Can’t say, sir; several of my friends make me a little present now and then. I put no mark on them.”
“Oh, all right, I don’t ask questions,” said the lieutenant.
“By the by, I find that the ‘Pretty Polly’ has started on another trip.”
“So I hear, sir,” said Ramrod.
“Can you guess where she’s gone, Miss Margaret?” asked the officer.
“Piloting, I suppose, sir,” answered the maiden, blushing.
“Oh, ay, yes, of course; but didn’t he talk of going anywhere on the French coast?”