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Vachell, Horace Annesley, 1861-1955

"Bunch Grass A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch"

I present them connectedly. The kind reader will understand that
allowance must be made for my brother. He is a seasoned vessel, but no
man can drink our village nectar with impunity.
"Of course," he began, "I knew that, this being his last day, the boys
would ask Jasperson to celebrate. So, mindful, of your precious
reputation--I don't care a hang about my own--I kept in the
background. Upon inquiry you'll find that it is generally conceded
that I did my best to prevent what has happened. And Jasperson was
foxey, too. He hung back, said he was going to join the lodge, and
wouldn't indulge in anything stronger than Napa Soda. He had three
rounds of that. Then he was persuaded by Jake Williams to try a glass
of beer, and after that a bumper of strong, fruity port--the pure
juice of the Californian grape. That warmed him up! At a quarter to
six he took his first drink of whisky, and then the evil spirits of
all the devils who manufacture it seemed to possess him. In less than
half-an-hour he was the centre of a howling crowd, and none howled
louder than he. He set up the drinks again and again.


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