Litchfield enquirer., 1868-12-03
OF STUART, THE PAIN-
 TER,
From the Atlantic Monthly for December.

At another time he was dining with Gov erneur Morris, after that gentleman's re- turn from Portugal. There was large party of handsome women and fashionable men, who occupied high positions in Church or State, and carried their honors bravely. The conversation was chiefly about wines, and especially port wine and vintages; their host maintaining, as well he might, that in this country we never saw any real port wine; and, among other pleasant things, he averred that more port wine, or what passed for port wine, was drank in London than was ever made in Portugal; that even there the genuine arti- eeksaeepf eesae epte under peculiar cisf love or money, en the "old port" of the Icumstances,-ey- ing. at best, but a decoction of logwood and elder-berries or grape cuttip gs; and that, in fact, the real Simon Pure was so utterly unlike what passes for port wine here and elsewhere that our best judges would call it insipid, having neither body nor soul. Nevertheless, he had managed while in Portugal to make an arrangement whereby he could obtain quarter-pipe now and then for himself or friend as |. special favor, the government itself being afraid to allow the exportation of unadul- terated wines, lest they should lnjure the sale of the rest.
 And now" said he, s'to show you all how you have been abused in this matter l must beg of You to try glass of what I cali port wine.-old port. Here George" Ito waiter behind his chair), ''bring us up,-let me ee."-and here he glanced up and down the long table, as if counting noses,-'bring us up three bottles, not more,-I cannot afford more till my stock is replenished,-of the vintage have been telling you of,-and give us clean glasses"
 Tine waiter soon appeared with just three bottles, fat and chunky, and covered with dust and cobwebs. The clean glasses were rather undersized, it must be acknowledg- the light, and looked through and then there was deal of talk about the aroma the bouquet,-and what they called the body, as if it were condensed sunshine. flashing through live grapery. Sutrt was just raising the glass to his lips uh nn he caught whiff of the arom#, aud set 1t down, without tasting it, and witho be- ing observed. The talk went O.. I e la dies began to chirp and chatter like par rows on the house-tops,-I give Stuart's language, not my own,-and the sparkle O; their eyes, and the uncommon freshnes, q! their lips, by the time they had manage, the second glass, only served to strengthen his convictions:
 At last, after collecting the sufrages. which were not only unanimous but en- thusiastic, the host turned to Stuart, and seeing full glass before him asked what he had to say for himself, and whether he had ever met with such old port in his life before. "NeverP' said Stuart; and then the host nodded and smiled, and looked about with triumphant air, as much as to say, What did tell you? ''Neverv' but still there was something in the look or tone of his guest which puzzled MT. Nor ITS, and seemed to call for explanation "Come, come, Stuart!' said he, ''none of your tricks upon travellers. We want your honest opinion, for we all know you are the best judge of wines to be found on this side of the water; and therefore I ask you once more, in all seriousness, if you ever drank such old port in all your life, either at home or abroad, 'pon your honor now?"
 "Nerer," said Stuart,-''neverp And then there was dead silence, and the host himself began to look uneasy, not knowing how to understand what he believed to be one of Stuart's jokes; and then Stuart ad- ded in his own peculiar way: s'You must excuse me, my friend, and you ladies and gentlemen; but assure you that what you have all been taking for old port wine is not wine at all."
 ''Not wine at all," exclaimed Morris. al- most jumping out of bis chair,-''why, what the-plague-is it then?"
 "I should call il, t,-excuse me, ,"-tah ing 8 sniff, as he passed it back and forth before his nose, ,-"I should call it cherry bouncer'
 For moment the host appeared thun- der-struck, well nigh speehless with amaze ment; but taen, as if udienly recollecting himself, his countena1ce underwent a change. and calling the waiter, he said,
 George you scoundrel!'' in sort of stage Whisper, that could be heard ali over the room, George, tell me where you found these bottles" The pool fellow trembled and shook; but ofter a lew words of ex- planation. Morris threH himself hack in