This is a more important affair, and requires a large tumbler for the initial stage. One teaspoonful of pine-apple syrup, ten drops of Angostura bitters, one teaspoonful of maraschino, and a wine-glassful of old brandy. Nearly fill the tumbler with crushed ice, and shake well. Then place a couple of strawberries in a small tumbler, strain the liquid on them, put in a strip of lemon peel, and top up with champagne. _Whisky Cocktail._ Put into a small tumbler ten drops of Angostura bitters, and one wine-glassful of Scotch whisky. Fill the tumbler with crushed ice, shake well, strain into a large wine-glass, and place a strip of peel atop. But the ordinary British "bar-cuddler"--as he is called in the slang of the day--recks not of cocktails, nor, indeed, of Columbian combinations of any sort. He has his own particular "vanity," and frequently a pet name for it. "Gin-and-angry-story" (Angostura), "slow-and-old" (sloe-gin and Old Tom), "pony o' Burton, please miss," are a few of the demands the attentive listener may hear given. Orange-gin, gin-and-orange-gin, gin-and-sherry (O bile where is thy sting?), are favourite midday "refreshers"; and I have heard a well-known barrister call for "a split Worcester" (a small wine-glassful of Worcester sauce with a split soda), without a smile on his expressive countenance. "Small lem. and a dash" is a favourite summer beverage, and, withal, a harmless one, consisting of a small bottle of lemonade with about an eighth of a pint of bitter ale added thereto. In one old-fashioned hostelry I wot of--the same in which the chair of the late Doctor Samuel Johnson is on view--customers who require to be stimulated with gin call for "rack," and Irish whisky is known by none other name than "Cork." The habitual "bar-cuddler" usually rubs his hands violently together, as he requests a little attention from the presiding Hebe; and affects a sort of shocked surprise at the presence on the scene of any one of his friends or acquaintances. He is well-up, too, in the slang phraseology of the day, which he will ride to death on every available opportunity. Full well do I remember him in the "How's your poor feet?" era; and it seems but yesterday that he was informing the company in assertive tones, "Now we _shan't_ be long!" The "free lunch" idea of the Yankees is only thoroughly carried out in the "North Countree," where, at the best hotels, there is often a great bowl of soup, or a dish of jugged hare, or of Irish stew, _pro bono publico_; and by _publico_ is implied the hotel directorate as well as the customers. In London, however, the free lunch seldom soars above salted almonds, coffee beans, cloves, with biscuits and American cheese. But at most refreshment-houses is to be obtained for cash some sort of a restorative sandwich, or _bonne bouche_, in the which anchovies and