wines and spirits, such as can be
consumed with pleasure and taken without risk. We do not all yet care
for Chancellor claret, Hamburg sherry, petroleum champagne, and Dudley
port, sometimes called "Bilston pit drink."

Bottled red ink and cider champagne does not suit the taste of those
who have a taste worth owning. They prefer to pay a fair price to have a
good article, and they consequently go to old firms who are experts in
their business.

The most serious form of competition that knocks the legitimate liquor
trader on the head is the grocer wine and spirit selling. It may be very
convenient to the public to be able to buy a bottle of wine or whisky
when they are buying their groceries, but this convenience has been
purchased, I fear, at a cost that is not pleasant to consider. I fear it
would not be difficult to prove that female home-drinking has been
fostered by the grocers' wine and spirit licences. This is a serious
matter to contemplate, and if I were a zealous temperance advocate I
should strive to get those grocers' licences wiped out.

Besides offering facilities that are calculated to encourage secret
home-drinking the grocers' licences operate in another way that is not
exactly conducive to morality or integrity. I will explain what I mean.
At Cambridge I knew an undergraduate who had a somewhat parsimonious
pater. The latter limited his son's allowance, and scrutinized his bills
pretty closely. But my Verdant Green circumvented the supervision of his
male parent by the opportunities offered by the grocers' shops. Although
my undergraduate friend was, I knew, kept pretty "short" in the matter
of cash supplies, I noticed that he never seemed short of strong drink.
He let the cat out of the bag--or let me say the cork out of the
bottle--when one day he innocently remarked to me, "I get all my liquor
from the grocer's; the governor never looks much at the grocer's
account."

Leaving the question of wines and spirits, I can illustrate my
preference for dealing with men who "know you know" what they are
selling, and are, indeed, experts in their trades. Although I am not a
good or bad Templar, nor yet a small brass Band of Hope, I confess to a
large weakness for tea--good, nice, well-flavoured tea. I have, however,
found it somewhat difficult to obtain. Occasionally I taste it at the
houses of friends who buy their tea in chests at a time; but as for
getting such tea at the usual grocers' shops I have f