Found a pint bottle lying on the street. Almost full of an amber liquid. And around the neck, a label saying “Drink me.” It was all very well to say “Drink me,” but wisely, I decided I was not going to do THAT in a hurry. “No, I’ll look first,” I said, “and see whether it’s marked ‘poison’ or not”; for I had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they WOULD NOT remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if your hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger VERY deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and I had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked “poison,” it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.
However, this bottle was NOT marked “poison,” so I ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast), I very soon finished it off.
1 ounce Jeremiah Weed’s Sweet Tea Vodka
1/2 ounce bourbon
8 ounces club soda
1 lemon slice
Combine all ingredients in large glass with lots of ice and enjoy the feeling of shutting up like a telescope.