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318
The Royal Mail: Its Curiosities and Romance
·
James Wilson Hyde
235
"Holloa!"
says
the
officer,
"what
have
we
here?
A
strange
wine-cellar
this!"
"Oh,"
observed
the
butler,
"these
are
three
bottles
of
ginger-wine
which
were
given
me
by
my
father,
a
grocer
in
the
town."
"Indeed!"
says
the
officer,
who
had
meanwhile
been
noting
the
colour
as
he
held
a
bottle
between
himself
and
the
light;
"it
looks
a
queer
colour
for
ginger-wine.
You
won't
mind
letting
me
taste
your
wine,
will
you?"
Overborne
by
the
assurance
of
the
officer
perhaps,
or
thinking
him
quite
chatty
and
chummy,
a
cork
was
withdrawn,
and
the
officer
was
sipping
capital
old
crusted
port.
The
wine
was
pronounced
very
good,
but
the
missing
watch
was
not
forthcoming.
The
scene
of
inquiry
was
now
changed.
The
officer
proceeded
to
the
shop
of
the
grocer,
made
some
trifling
purchase,
put
on
his
most
affable
ways,
and
he
soon
had
the
grocer
talking,
first
on
general
topics,
then
on
personal
matters,
and
at
last
on
the
theme
of
his
own
family.
"How
many
have
you?"
says
the
officer.
"So-and-so,"
responds
the
grocer.
"All
doing
for
themselves
by
this
time,
I
suppose?"
continues
the
officer.
This
flung
the
door
open
for
a
full
statement
of
the
position
of
the
family,
which
was
given
without
reserve,
as
if
to
an
old
friend,
until
the
butler
with
the
clergyman
was
mentioned,
when
the
officer
interrupted
him
with
the
remark--
"Ah,
to
be
sure;
I
know
something
of
him.
That
was
capital
ginger-wine
you
gave
him
lately."
"Ginger-wine!"
quoth
the
grocer;
"I
never
had
wine
in
my
house
in
my
life,
and
I
certainly
never
gave
my
son
any."
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