A nouveau-riche man is taught a lesson by his dutiful butler.
This reads more a parable (“don’t judge a book by its cover”) than a story.
In due course, Mr. Cleaver came to regard himself as an expert on wine, and inevitably he turned into a colossal bore. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he would announce at dinner, holding up his glass, “this is a Margaux ’20! The greatest year of the century! Fantastic bouquet! Smells of cowslips! And notice especially the aftertaste and how the tiny trace of tannin gives it that glorious astringent quality! Terrific, ain’t it?”
Provide this story to the next person who uses the word “bouquet” or “legs” when describing wine.