Mr. Peckham, would you be so polite as to pass me a glass
of srub?"
Silas Peckham bowed with great alacrity, and took from the table a
small glass cup, containing a fluid reddish in hue and subacid in
taste. This was _srub_, a beverage in local repute, of questionable
nature, but suspected of owing its color and sharpness to some kind of
syrup derived from the maroon-colored fruit of the sumac. There were
similar small cups on the table filled with lemonade, and here and
there a decanter of Madeira wine, of the Marsala kind, which some
prefer to, and many more cannot distinguish from, that which comes from
the Atlantic island.
"Take a glass of wine, Judge," said the Colonel; "here is an article
that I rather think 'll suit you."
The Judge knew something of wines, and could tell all the famous old
Madeiras from each other,--"Eclipse," "Juno," the almost fabulously
scarce and precious "White-top," and the rest. He struck the nativity
of the Mediterranean Madeira before it had fairly moistened his lip.
"A sound wine, Colonel, and I should think of a genuine vintage. Your
very good health."
"Deacon Soper," said the Colonel, "here is some Madary Judge Thornton
recommends.
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