The wines were good and abundant: there was champagne for the King's health; claret in which to pledge themselves, gay stormers of the mountains; Burgundy for the oreads who were so gracious as to sit beside them, smile upon them, taste of their mortal fare.
Sooth to say, the oreads were somewhat dazed by the company they were keeping, and found the wine a more potent brew than the liquid crystal of their mountain streams.

Red roses bloomed in Molly's cheeks; her eyes grew starry, and no longer sought the ground; when one of the gentlemen wove a chaplet of oak leaves, and with it crowned her loosened hair, she laughed, and the sound was so silvery and delightful that the company laughed with her.

When the viands were gone, the negroes drew the cloth, but left the wine.

When the wine was well-nigh spent, they brought to their masters long pipes and japanned boxes filled with sweet-scented.

The fragrant smoke, arising, wrapped the knoll in a bluish haze.