one was any wiser, but me, for the drink which I thought was very
palatable and delicious. Not like the three drinks I had taken from the
jug some time before.

This continued for sometime very much to my comfort, as far as good drink
was concerned. It was usually indulged in at night, after I had undressed
my feet, and father and mother supposed I had retired. There was one
difficulty. I was liable to be exposed by my little brother, John S., who
slept with me; so I concluded to take him into my confidence. There were
two reasons for my doing so: first, I wished him to have something good;
and second, I wanted to have him implicated with myself, fearing that he
might reveal my proceedings. So we enjoyed it together for a few nights.
I would drink first, then hold the barrel for him while he drank. We
thought we were faring like nabobs. But alas for me! One evening brother
John S. and I retired as usual, leaving father and mother seated by the
fire, I suppose talking over the scenes of their early days or, more
probably, discussing the best way to get along and support their family
in this their new forest home.

I thought, of course, we must have some of the good drink before we shut
our eyes for the night, and no sooner thought than we went for it. As
usual, I removed the block and out with the bung, then down with my mouth
to the bung hole and over with the barrel until the delightful liquid
reached my anxious lips. My thirst was soon slaked by a good drink, I
relished it first rate.

Then came brother John S.' turn, and, some way, in attempting to get his
drink I let the barrel slip. He was small and I had to hold it for him,
but this time the barrel went. I grabbed for it, made some racket and
some of the metheglin came out, guggle, guggle, good, good, and down it