He called it a tonic.

And we could see that he was tonic-angry when he entered the room.
"What do you think ?" he demanded.

"I had luncheon with Wilcox." Wilcox was the superannuated president of the university, whose withered mind was stored with generalizations that were young in 1870, and which he had since failed to revise.
"I was invited," father announced.

"I was sent for." He paused, and we waited.
"Oh, it was done very nicely, I'll allow; but I was reprimanded.

I! And by that old fossil!" "I'll wager I know what you were reprimanded for," Ernest said.
"Not in three guesses," father laughed.
"One guess will do," Ernest retorted.