Farnham made Temple go into the house with him, and asked Budsey
to bring some sherry. "It is not so good as your Santa Rita," he said;
"but the exercise in the night air will give it a relish."
When the wine came, the men filled and drank, in sober American
fashion, without words; but in the heart of each there was the thought
of eternal friendship, founded upon brave and loyal service.
"Budsey," said Farnham, "give all the men a glass of this wine."
"Not this, sir?" said Budsey, aghast.
"I said this," replied Farnham. "Perhaps they won't enjoy it, but I
shall enjoy giving it to them."
Farnham and Temple were eating some bread and cheese and talking over
the evening, when Budsey came back with something which approached a
smile upon his grave countenance.
"Did they like it?" asked Farnham.
"Half of 'em said they was temperance and wouldn't 'ave any. Some of
the rest said--you will excuse me, sir--as it was d---- poor cider,"
and Budsey went out of the room with a suspicious convulsion of the
back.
"I'll go on that," said Mr. Temple. "Goodnight. I think we will have
good news in the morning.
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