on, making his voice very thick and strong (I expect he does it like that in church), "have you never been taught that it is the drinking of wine and sprits—yes, and beer, which makes half the homes in England full of wretched little children, and degraded, miserable parents?"
"Not if you put sugar in it," said Alice firmly; "eight lumps and shake the bottle. We have each had more than a teaspoonful of it, and we were not ill at all. It was something else that upset H. O. Most likely all those acorns he got out of the Park."
The clergyman seemed to be speechless with conflicting emotions, and just then the door opened and a lady came in. She had a white cap with lace, and an ugly violet flower in it, and she was tall, and looked very strong, though thin. And I do believe she had been listening at the door.
"But why," the Vicar was saying, "why did you bring this dreadful fluid, this curse of our country, to me to taste?"
"Because we thought you might buy some," said Dora, who never sees when a game is up. "In books the parson loves his bottle of old port; and new sherry is just as good—with sugar—for people who like sherry. And if
