“THAT’S what I call good beer,” said Old Moffat, smacking his lips. “Don’t often come across beer like that these days.” Ellis put down his tankard. “You’re right, Moffat, that is good beer. It’s what they call singing beer. It does you good, that brew. Haven’t had anything like it since I did a job up at the monastery a couple of months ago.” “Monastery?” said Moffat. “Do you mean to tell me that monks know anything about beer? I can’t imagine monks drinking beer. I thought they were singing hymns all day.”
Catholic England
Author: John Carmel Heenan