In Vino Veritas.
The Vandemonian was, of course, accompanied by nine more of his pals,
all of them armed to the teeth with revolvers, swords, pikes, and knives.
Carl Wiesenhavern, a man of noble character, and, therefore a man who hates
knavery, and has no fear of a knave, answered with his peculiar
German coolness, "Here I am, what do you want?"
"Nobblers round," was the eager reply.
"If that's what you want," replied Wiesenhavern, "you shall have it
with pleasure."
"We got no money."
"I did not ask for any: understand me well, though;" pointing at each of them
with the forefinger of his clenched right hand, "you will have a nobbler
a-piece, and no more: afterwards you will go your way. Are you satisfied
with my conditions?"
"Yes, yes! we agree to that: go on you b - - ."
Wiesenhavern scorned to notice the fellow, and, according to the old custom
of the house, placed two decanters of brandy, together with the tumblers,
on the bar, saying, "Help yourselves, gentlemen."
They fell at once upon the brandy, and their mean rascality was shown
by some seizing the glass and covering it with the full hand to conceal
their greediness. Nobbler-drinking is an old colonial habit; it gives pluck
to the coward when he is 'up to something;' so happened it with these fellows.
"Well, landlord, your brandy is d - -d good - the real sort of stuff,
and no b - - y mistake.
