But Charley, my hearty, we are getting on slowly with the tipple; are they all empty?
And the beauty of our tipple now is,” said Bob, “that it never does a fellow the least harm.
He cannot enjoy his own tipple unless he can deprive me of mine.
The moment he has tossed off the tipple, he begins tinkling.
Sandeman's '48—the tipple you and I have tasted together for many a year.