What say you to that for a head, Mr.Lashmar?
A new nine-gallon, tapped before breakfast this morning, now running clear and cool as a mountain burn.

What would life be without this?
Elsewhere our ale degenerates; not many honest brewers are left.

Druggist's wine and the fire of the distilleries will wreck our people.

Whenever you have a chance, Mr.Lashmar, speak a word for honest ale.

Time enough is wasted at Westminster; they may well listen to a plea for the source of all right-feeling and right-thinking--amber ale." Dyce soon understood that here, at all events, he was not called upon for eloquence, or disquisition.