: "Winter, a shot of Jamieson's, and a Yuengling chaser," she said. "And
: a hug, too, if you please. Oh, and if there is no one in the kitchen,
: I'd like to make myself useful."

"Well, good afternoon to yeh, Maiden. It's been awful quiet lately. Seein'
a
friendly face brings a smile, yes it does."

The Jameson's appeared swiftly, but I decided to make a production
over the beer. I filled a brandy snifter with ice water and let it sit for
a few,
swished it around, dumped the water while popping open the bottle on
a little metal tab mounted under the bar. With great solemnity I poured the
beer slowly into the snifter, as one would charge a chalice with holy water.

"Your beer, madame," I said with an exaggerated genteel accent.

"Anyone else?" I asked the crowd, "I can only polish a bar rail so much.
And
it's time for the stories to begin anew. Who wants to belly up and tell us
a tale, eh?
Don't be shy. How 'bout you, Christiane? One must dream deep when asleep
for months."



W.

-- Autumn is a good time for stories, don't you think?