So during the last jorum, it had been put to
the vote and unanimously carried that we should start for Tom's, by a
retrograde movement, at four o'clock in the morning, breakfast with him,
and rig up some drag or other wherein Timothy might get the two deer and
the dogs, as best he might, into the city.
"As for us," said Harry, "we will go down the other road, Tom, over the
back-bone of the mountain, dine with old Colonel Beams, stop at
Paterson, and take a taste at the Holy Father's poteen--you may look at
the Falls if you like it, Frank, while we're looking at the Innishowen--
and so get home to supper. I'll give you both beds for one night--but
not an hour longer--my little cellar would be broken, past all doubt, if
old Tom were to get two nights out of it!"
"Ay'se sure it would," responded Timothy, who had been listening, all
attention, mixing meanwhile some strange compound of eggs and rum and
sugar. "Whoy, measter Draa did pratty nigh drink 't out yance--that
noight 'at eight chaps, measter Frank, drank oop two baskets o'
champagne, and fifteen bottles o' 't breawn sherry--Ay carried six on
'em to bed, Ay'se warrant it--and yan o' them, young measter Clark, he
spoilt me a new suit o' liveries, wi' vomiting a top on me.
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