Oh, Lord! how I would like to lick him with a bran new cow hide whip, round and round the park, every day, an hour afore breakfast, to improve his wind, and teach him how to mend his pace.

I'd repair his old bellowses for him, I know.
"Then look at the butler, how he tordles like a Terrapin; he has got the gout, that feller, and no wonder, nother.

Every decanter that comes in has jist half a bottle in it, the rest goes in tastin', to see it aint corked.

His character would suffer if a bit o' cork floated in it.

Every other bottle is corked, so he drinks that bottle, and opens another, and gives master half of it.