Our best rough-rider had mounted him, with a view of thoroughly taking it out of him, and I never witnessed a better display of horsemanship.

The dog had no way of naming things for itself and so Teddy had dutifully taken it upon himself to lexiconize the world for it.

Nowhere else in the world had I seen such gigantic measures of liquor poured, such widespread enthusiasm for Bloodies and Mimosas on weekend mornings, or such firm insistence on giving sixteen-ounce Styrofoam cups loaded with iced liquor to guests leaving a party, so they might have a traveler for the drive home. At a bar in Yazoo City, the bartender asked me if I wanted to go tall with my bourbon on the rocks. I didn't know what he meant, but it sounded encouraging. Sure, I said, Let's go tall. He filled up a pint glass with ice. Then he filled it to the brim with bourbon. When I got up to leave with about half the drink gone, he poured the rest of it into a Styrofoam cup, assuming I would want a traveler.

Jurgis waited outside and walked home with Marija.