Mike Veach mentioned in another post that Mark Twain used to visit me from time to time and we would drink to being dead. Well, thing is, he came by late last night and said he had learned from Old Scratch (who keeps tabs on me) that I had displaced myself to Savannah. He was gladder to see Barleycorn than to see me, but that don't make me no nevermind.
Barleycorn told Mr Twain that he no longer goes by the moniker Barleycorn, but rather Barley and Corn. Twain said he liked it, but me, I say why mess with a name that is already too good for him.
Now, I know it is an honor to have America's greatest writer come by for a visit, but knowing a wee bit about his tastes, I pulled out my bottle of 86 proof Old Crow Reserve and offered him a sip. He took a pull and allowed as how it was passable bourbon. But then he said that Old Scratch had warned him that I was like to give him something a bit short of my best whiskey. And, Mr Barley and Corn allowed as how I have been doing that to him for years. I chose not to spute with 'em on these trivial matters, but did go so far as to point out that when they are buying the whiskey they can drink as they please.
Still, I could not put up with Mr Barley and Corn's going on about how much better dogs are than humans and Mark Twain agreeing with him that I just up and said that I was gone go right on to bed if the conversation didn't improve somewhat. Just to spite 'em all both, I pulled out my bottle of Old Forester '08 Birthday Bourbon and poured my own self a generous splash. Mr Twain says, 'I'll have a splash of that what you having.' And then Mr. Barley and Corn ups and says, 'I think I will just have a splash too also'. I says, 'Mr. Twain can certainly have some', but, says I, 'What's yo name again dog?' So, Mr high horse Barley and Corn says, 'Same as you gave me, master, I am Barleycorn'. You just got to put some dogs in their place, or they will take advantage of you, they will!!
Well, we sot and talked a while yet and they both allowed as how the Birthday Bourbon was a mite better than the Old Crow Reserve, which, they said, was not bad its own self.
Well, I dozed off soon enough and when I woke up Mark Twain and Barleycorn was playing poker and the bottle of Birthday Bourbon was most gone..... and Barleycorn had done lost his dog house. Well, I went on to bed whilst they argued over whether a dog's autograph was worth as much as a dog's house.