"
After a warm at the wide wood fire, a gulp of coffee and a bite or two
at the bread and meat, the traveller, now thoroughly thawed,
stretched himself and said:
"Ah, well, Mrs Mac, haven't you got anything else to offer us?"
"And what more would you be wanting?" she snapped. "Isn't the
bread and meat good enough for you?"
"But--but--you know---" he suggested lamely.
"Know?--I know!--What do _I_ know?" A pause, then, with
startling suddenness, "Phwat d'y' mean?"
"No offence, Mrs Mac--no offence; but haven't you got something in
the way of--of a drink to offer us?"
"Dhrink! Isn't the coffee good enough for ye? I paid two and six a
pound for ut, and the milk new from the cow this very evenin'--an' th'
water rain-water."
"But--but--you know what I mean, Mrs Mac."
"An' I doan't know what ye mean. _Phwat do ye mean_? I've
asked ye that before. What are ye dhrivin' at, man--out with it!"
"Well, I mean a little drop of the right stuff," he said, nettled.
Then he added: "No offence--no harm done."
"O-o-oh!" she said, illumination bursting in upon her brain. "It's
the dirrty drink ye're afther, is it? Well, I'll tell ye, first for
last, that we doan't keep a little drop of the right stuff nor a
little drop of the wrong stuff in this house. It's a honest house,
an' me husband's a honest harrd-worrkin' carrier, as he'd soon let ye
know if he was at home this cold night, poor man. No dirrty drink
comes into this house, nor goes out of it, I'd have ye know.
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