"Come, come," said James, putting his hand to his nose and winking at his cousin with a pair of vinous eyes, "no jokes, old boy; no trying it on on me. You want to trot me out, but it's no go. In vino veritas, old boy. Mars, Bacchus, Apollo virorum, hey? I wish my aunt would send down some of this to the governor; it's a precious good tap."

"Come, come," said James, winking at his cousin, "no jokes, old boy; no trying it on with me. You want to trot me out, but it's no go. In vino veritas, old boy. I wish my aunt would send down some of this to the governor; it's a precious good tap."
