Their talk was full of
mysterious names and expressions, and Taffy thought at first they
must be Freemasons. "The Moor point-to-point was a walk-over for the
Milkman; Lapidary was scratched, which left it a soft thing, unless
Sir Harry fancied a fox-catcher like Nursery Governess, in which
case Billy behind the bar would do as much business as he liked at
six-to-one." After a while Taffy discovered they were talking about
horses, and wondered why they should meet to discuss horses in a
dingy room up a back yard. "Youngster of yours is growin',
Surrarry," said a red-faced man. "Who's his stable companion?" Taffy
was introduced, and to his embarrassment Sir Harry began to relate
his ridiculous mistake at lunch. The men roared with laughter.
He made another, quite as ridiculous, at the pastry-cook's where Sir
Harry ordered tea. "What'll you take with it? Call for what you
like, only don't poison yourselves." Taffy referring his gaze from
the buns and confections on the counter to the card in his hands,
which was inscribed with words in unknown tongues, made a bold plunge
and announced that he would take a "_marasheno_."
This tickled Sir Harry mightily. He ordered the waitress with a wink
to "bring the young gentleman a _marasheno_"; and Taffy, who had
expected something in the shape of a macaroon, was confronted with a
tiny glass of a pale liquor, which, when tasted, in the most
surprising manner put sunshine into his stomach and brought tears
into his eyes.
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