The Tonic Port
"Quite so," I said—"quite so." I looked at the label, and saw that it said that the port was peculiarly rich in phosphates. I put the bottle in my bag that night and took it home.
"Eliza," I said, "I have brought you a little present. It is a bottle of port." Eliza very rarely takes anything at all, but if she does it is a glass of port. In this respect I admire her taste. Port, as I have sometimes said to her, is the king of wines. We decided that we would have a glass after supper. That is really the best time to take anything of the kind; the wine soothes the nerves and prevents insomnia.
Eliza picked the bottle up and looked at the label. "Why," she said, "you told me it was port!"
"So it is."
"It says tonic port on the label."
"Well, tonic port practically is port. That is to say, it is port with the addition of—er—phosphates."
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