17 / 102
R
ye
Whisky
BY
A.
M.
HANAUER
Of
Hamburger
Distillery
Co.
Pittsburg,
Pa.
Rye
whisky
and
wry
faces
do
not
go
togetlier.
Sit
down
at
home,
at
the
chib
or
cafe,
and
when
the
choice,
miid,
mellow,
and
matured
rye
whisky
is
served,
you
see
before
yon
the
finest
drink
man
is
capable
of
distilling
from
grain.
Yon
smile
in
con-
templation,
and
comprehend
how
the
expression
arose,
"Give
me
a
smile,"
meaning
a
drink,
around
which
clnsters
only
smile,
langhter
and
joyonsness,
the
good
story
brimfnl
of
wit
and
lmmor
and
langhter.
One
can
miderstand
why
the
salvation
lassies
get
their
best
pickings
from
the
lovers
of
rye.
One
recalls
Bobby
Bnrns
and
his
sweet
songs
of
the
rye
fields,
tanght
us
in
childhood's
happy
hours.
Was
it
not
Bis-
marck,
the
greatest
statesman
of
the
nineteenth
centnry,
and
himself
the
proprietor
of
a
distillery,
who
remarked,
"Béer
is
for
women,
wine
for
m
en,
and
rye
for
heroes."
In
our
country,
with
its
rush
and
bustle
and
perpendicular
drinking,
one
finds
that
some
men
do
not
understand
the
fine
art
of
eating
and
drinking
and
living.
You
sometimes
see
such
a
man
rush
up
to
the
bar,
order
a
fine
old
rye,
gulp
it
down,
take
some
water,
and
rush
ont
again.
That
is
like
turning
somersaults
in
church
—
it
is
a
sacrilège.
Oh,
no,
my
friend;
that
is
not
the
way
to
do.
Pon't
start
a
conflagration
in
your
stomach
and
then
start
the
fire
department
after
it.
Perpen-
dictular
drinking
leads
to
oblique
vision.
The
right
way
is
to
greet
King
Rye
with ceremony,
révér-
ence
and
affection,
which
his
âge, his
strength,
his
spirit,
his
purity
and
his
birth
demand.
Treat
him
right
and
lie
will
see
that
you
are
treated
right;
abuse
him
and
he
will
see
that
you
suffer.
He
permits
yon
to
look
into
nature'
s
mirror.
The
law
of
compensation
holds
fast
—
"whatever
you
do
to
him
you
do
to
yourself."
Sit
down,
my
friend,
and
ask
for
a
choice
real
old
rye,
a
nectar
fit
for
the
gods.
Pour
it
slowly;
feast
your
eyes
on
its
golden
hues.
Is
it
the
golden
fleece
for
which
the
argonauts
of
old
strived?
Inhale
its
exquisite
aroma;
enjoy
its
superb
bou-
quet;
it
brings
to
the
mind's
eye
the
smiling
rye
fields,
the
rye
waving
joyously
in
the
sun,
and
the
troop
of
happy
children
passing
through.
Look
again,
and
the
liquid
amber,
coupled
with
the
word
Monongahela,
brings
remembrances
of
George