Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 August 1884 — He Didn’t Draw the Cork. [ARTICLE]

He Didn’t Draw the Cork.

“You talk of old wine, gentlemen,” cried Mr. Dovesheart, to a select circle —we were about to write knot—of professional friends; “why, upon my life, and as I’m a Christian, I have in my cellar, port wine a hundred and seventeen years old!” “Is it possible?” “Mind, it’s only one bottle, the last bottle. Here, John, bring up that wine, bring it up; and now gentlemen, since you talk of old wine, you shall have a bonne bouche.” My dear Dovesheart, you won’t drink it ?” Why not ? why not?”—“Quite gone with age,” observed Costs, confidently, to his neighbor, Pinch, who replies, “Worse than physic, of course,” —“I’ll not spoil my mouth with it,” whispers the cdnscientious George; whilst others of the party, saying nothing, only endeavoring not to make wry mouths. “Here it is!” cries the hospitable Dovesh- art. “The corkscrew, John.” The corkscrew?” exclaimed Flay, “surely, surely you’ll never draw it; a thousand pities—such a curious thing!” “Pooh! Poph.’” answered Dovesheart, “it must be drunk some day, and, on an occasion like this, why, there’ll just be a taste apiece and’’ “No, no, really your kindness goes too far,” says Rubygill; “consider, one hundred and seventeen years old!—so rare a thing!-don’t draw it for us. I’m sure no gentleman here requires—” arid Ruygi 11 looks around him, and every guest cries “No, ho,’’ shocked at the very proposal of a sacrifice. At

lenght amidst fords and looks of entreaty, I/ovesheart lays down the corkscrew, a burst of applause attended tihe merciful act, “Well, its very odd!” sayt the host, shaking his head at the ancient port, “very strange—but to tell the truth—l have had that bottle up at least a dozen times, and just as now., nobody would ever suffer me to draw the cork. John, take the bottle to the cellar.”— Exchanfje.