Cosmo, to see that man drink, makes me ashamed of my tumbler of toddy.

And now I think of it, I don't believe it does me any good; and, just to make sure that I am in earnest, from this hour I will take no more.--"Then," he added, after a short pause, "I shall be pretty sure you will not take it." "Oh, papa!" cried Cosmo, "take your toddy all the same: I promise you--and a Warlock will not break his word--never to taste strong drink while I live." "I should prefer the word of a man to that of a Warlock," said his father.

"A Warlock is nothing except he be a man.

Some Warlocks have been men." From that day, I may here mention, the laird drank nothing but water, much to the pleasure of Peter Simon, who was from choice a water-drinker.
"What a howling night it is, Cosmo!" he resumed.

"If that poor old drinker had tried to get on to Howglen, he would have been frozen to death; when the drink is out of the drunkard, he has nothing to resist with." By this time Lord Mergwain had had his supper, and had begun to drink again.