“‘Hold, William!  Hold!’ says I.  ’It’s got red sealin’-wax on the top.  If you break it before we take a sample you and me is the best of friends parted in the middle, not to mention the disturbance we’ll make in this room.’

“So I took it away from him and looked at it in the candle-light.  Sure enough, there was the inspirin’ words on it, ’Liqueur—­Creme de Menthe.’  A furreign way of spellin’ liquor, to be sure, but what’s a letter or two out of the way, so long as the results is in sight?

“‘William,’ says I, ’L-i-q, lick, u-e-u-r, er—­licker.  Get glasses, William, and let us be joyful.’

“William mumbled somethin’ about green not bein’ a joyful color, but he went and did as I told him.

“That stuff smelt of perpemint, fearful.  It was a young ladies’ bevridge if ever I hit one.  We sot opposite each other, filled a tumbler apiece, says, ‘Here’s how,’ and waited.  We waited quite some time.

“‘Ezekiel, do you notice anythin’?’ says William.  Well, to tell the truth, I hadn’t; yet it might only been fancy, so I says, ‘Seems to me I do, William—­nothin’ vi’lent, nor musical, nor humorous—­but a kind of a tranquil, preliminary, what-you-might-call-indication of somethin’ to follow.’

“‘Huh,’ says William, ’let’s try another.

“We was careful to load to the brim this time.  After five minutes I says, ‘Are you sure you don’t notice nothin,’ William?’ I observed a risin’ color in his face.

“‘U-m-m—­y-a-as,’ says he most sarcastical; ‘I notice somethin’, Ezekiel—­a strong smell of peppermint—­not escaped you, perhaps?  Well, there’s just one more swig of green paint goin’ to force itself into the midst of William Pemberton, and if there ain’t more to show for it than the present odor and a sensation ’sif I’d been turned inside out and exposed to the wintry blasts you’ll hear from me, Ezekiel.  I’ve stood,’ says William, ’about all I’m prepared to stand.  The next act will be for me to proceed to get a move on.’

“Knowin’ what a powerful disposition he had I most sincerely hoped our next glass would bring about satisfactory conclusions.  I downed her, but it had got to be all I could do, I felt a freezin’ cold in my vitals, like William had complained of, instead of the warmth and comfort for which I looked.  Y-a-as, I swallered that glass by main strength, like a snake would a hop-toad—­kinder lengthened myself until I was outside of it.

“‘Tick-tick-tick,’ remarks William’s clock on the wall.  When it had arranged its hands before its mild countenance in such a way as to inform me that twenty minutes, mountain time, had done all the elapsin’ possible, I slid my anxious gaze on William.  He held to his chair with both hands, and white spots showed in his cheeks, the way he chawed his teeth together.

“‘Ahem,’ says I, clearin’ my throat, ’Hum—­ah, do you—­er—­do you no—­’

“I got no farther.  William leant over and bent his finger double agin my chest.  ‘Full well,’ says he in a tone of v’ice not loud but so loaded with meanin’ it bumped on his teeth—­’full well, Ezekiel George Washington Scraggs, do I assimerlate what the results of such a course will be, but if you should persume to ast me any more if I notice anything I shall at once arise and bat you in the eye—­I am beyond carin’ for conserquences.’