Beer

Excerpt:
It was young Nawn who was pounding; he was driving tacks into a carpet on the floor of his best room. The hammer, owing to the stillness of the country at this early hour, resounded far over the fields and down the road. It came to the ears of a man who was driving along this road, and who pulled in his horse to listen.
He was an old man, but he looked strong, and good for many years to come. He had a brown face, with straight features and high, narrow forehead. He was not bald, but still retained thick, picturesque gray hair that stood out like a kind of frame. His eyes, when he looked at you, made you, if you were sensitive or had " nerves," wince and wish to turn away.
If you showed this desire on your part, Mr. Nawn senior would smile slightly and make his glance sharper still. But, for all this sharpness, the old gentleman had a great liking for a pretty woman, and a gallant way with one even yet; a pretty woman was made to excite a man's admiration, but a man was a fool who became serious over even the most beautiful of all feminine creations.
Mr. Nawn's buggy was very old and shaky ; his horse was old too, and the harness was mended with leather strings ; but there was a kind of dignity pertaining to the equipage.
This gentleman having stopped his steed, and the steed having immediately fallen to eating the rank grass by the road - side, the sound of pounding was more audible.