"This is yours, Aleck," said the host, holding out one glass to the minister. "This is for you, Downs. Now, Melissa, make me one, will you?" "None for me," said the minister. "Then never mind, Melissa. But wait--lemonade?" "Yes; lemonade. It is the very thing." "As it is or as it might be?" "As it is." "Lemonade without the decanter, Melissa." While the servant was in the house, the uncle and the nephew waited with their glasses untouched. The turfman was very happy--happy in his guest, in his nephew, in himself, in everything: his mind overflowed with his quaint playfulness; and when he talked, you were loath to interrupt him. "Aleck," he said, rattling the ice in his julep, "don't you suppose that when we get to heaven, nothing will make us happier there than remembering the good times we had in this world? so if you want to be happy there, be happy here. _This_ is one of the pleasures that I expect to carry in memory if I am ever transformed into a male seraph. But I may not have to remember. If there is any provision made for the thirst of the Kentucky redeemed, do you know what I think will be the reward of all central Kentucky male angels? From under the great white throne there will trickle an ice-cold stream of this, ready-made--and I shouldn't wonder if there were a Kentuckian under the throne making it. The Kentucky delegation would be camped somewhere near, though there will be two delegations, of course, because they will divide on politics. And don't you fear that there will not be others hastening to the banks of that stream! It is too late to look for young Moses in the bulrushes; but I shouldn't wonder if the whole ransomed universe discovered old Moses in the mint." "_Which mint?_" said the minister, who kept his worldly wits about him. "Aleck," replied the turfman, "I leave it to you whether that is not too flippant a remark with which to close a gentleman's solemn discourse." The lemonade was served. "Is yours sour enough, Aleck?" The visitor found it to his taste. "Is yours sweet enough, Downs?" This hurt Downs' feelings: it implied that he was not old enough to like things sour. He replied surlily that his might have been stronger. The servant, watching from inside a window, judged by the angle at which the glasses were tilted that they were empty: she returned and asked whether she should bring 'one more all around.' "More lemonade, Aleck?" "Thank you, no more for me--but it was good, better than yours." "Another for you, Downs?" Downs thought that he would not have another just for the moment: the servant disappeared.