I think I hear the tinkle of the piano: I prefer the tinkle of the glass.

Pray tell the damsels we are coming by-and-bye: mind you say 'by-and-bye.' I don't like to be too particular, for fear of seeming rude: don't you see ?" This speech was wound up by a telegraphic flourish of the hand towards Tim, who stood near, with a bottle between his feet, the screw buried in the cork, and his body bent to the effort, which he only delayed to exercise till ordered by his master to pull.

"Out with him, man! out with the cork!" cried the host.

The loud report which succeeded rang over the apartment like the sweetest music to the souls of the ever thirsty company.

Tim's thunder was echoed back by a truly bacchanalian shout, such as nothing on earth can give proper emphasis to, except a double allowance of claret.