It is thus that the seasoned drinker grows seasoned.
To show that at this period in my life drinking was wholly a matter of companionship, I remember crossing the Atlantic in the old Teutonic.

It chanced, at the start, that I chummed with an English cable operator and a younger member of a Spanish shipping firm.

Now the only thing they drank was "horse's neck"-- a long, soft, cool drink with an apple peel or an orange peel floating in it.

And for that whole voyage I drank horse's, necks with my two companions.

On the other hand, had they drunk whisky, I should have drunk whisky with them.