If I ain't dead in five minutes, you try it." "O, stop monkeying, and drink," was the impatient answer.
Kent put the jug to his mouth and took a long draught.

"Shade of old Father Noah, the first drunkard," he said as he wiped the tears from his eyes, "another swig like that would pull out all the rivets in my internal pipings.

Heavens! it went down like pulling a cat out of a hole by the tail.

I'm afraid to wipe my mouth, lest my breath burn a hole in the sleeve of my blouse." Three-quarters of an hour later, the spirits in the jug were lowering and those in the men rising with unequal rapidity.

Under the influence of the fiery stimulant, Kent's sanguine temperament boiled and bubbled over.