CLARET
ay” on a very brazen band: which is, perhaps, as it should be. And while ever trying to persuade the world they are as good as he of Bordeaux, they do not call themselves by names that enthral the ear and capture the purse, but are grossly ticketed Port type, or Sherry type, or Claret type, as the case may be. Where, then, the wonder if men turn to hear of Château Pichon de Longueville, Château de Beycheville, Château Leoville? What flood but would seem glorious from illustrious founts like these? Yet is the method, open to abuses. Such names are weavers of spells, and send you floating back to those happier ages when Scotland and France were more to each other than Scotland and England, and the link was this Claret; so that, as the years broadened into the
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