"But, me friend Jarvis, what is this you have on your face? Pond's
Extract! Oh, murder! What is the world coming to when fresh beef and
usquebaugh are crowded to the wall by bad-smelling water! Look at me
nose; it is as straight as God made it, and yet many a time it has been
knocked to one side of me face or spread all over me features. Nothing
but whiskey and raw beef could ever coax it back! It's God's mercy if
you are not deformed for life, me friend. Such privileges are not to be
neglected with impunity. Let me bathe your face with whiskey and put a
beef-steak poultice after it, and I'll have you as handsome as a girl in
three days."
"Give me the steak and whiskey inside and I'll feel handsome at once,"
said Jarvis.
"Oh, the rashness of youth!" said Sir Tom. "But I'll not say a word
against it. Youth is the greatest luck in the world, and I'll not copper
it."
And then our sporting friend grew reminiscent and told of a time at
Limmer's when the marquis and he occupied beds in the same room, not
unlike our boys' room--only smoky and dingy--and poulticed their
battered faces with beef, and used usquebaugh inside and outside, after
ten friendly rounds.
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