Jules Verne,
Journey into the Interior of the Earth…
(1877)
“ And raising his flask he emptied it every drop between my lips. Oh! infinite pleasure! a slender sip of water came to moisten my burning mouth. It was but one sip but it was enough to recall my ebbing life. I thanked my uncle with clasped hands. "Yes," he said, "a draught of water; but it is the very last — you hear! — the last. I had kept it as a precious treasure at the bottom of my flask. Twenty times, nay, a hundred times, have I fought against a frightful impulse to drink it off. But no, Axel, I kept it for you." "My dear uncle," I said, whilst hot tears trickled down my face. ”
