The title is a misnomer. "Moonshine" implies a raw, homemade distillation. The well beverage is, in fact, a bonded (guaranteed) whiskey, carefully blended and aged.
(Paladin is prodding gingerly at a plate of pork and beans.)
Kadish: Now, uh, uh, now don't you go savin' on that for me, 'cause I had it for breakfast.
Paladin: Well, uh, I'm not really very hungry. I... I ate just before you shot at me.
Kadish: Wasn't that a rare stroke of luck, that I didn't hit you, I mean?
Paladin: Yes sir, I, uh, suspect the fate that guided your hand is now making the halls of Olympus ring with sardonic laughter.
(Kadish brings over a jug.)
Kadish: Slurp some of that down, huh?
(Paladin sniffs at the jug, then hoists it and takes a drink.)
Paladin: Well, Mr. Kadish, that's very good whiskey.
Paladin: True bouquet, full body, very well and carefully aged.
Kadish: True is true. And I got a whole lake of the stuff.
Paladin: You got a lake of it.
Kadish: Yeah. We're sittin' on it right now.
Paladin: You've got a lake of it, and, we're sitting on it.
Paladin: Well now, Mr. Kadish, that's, uh, very interesting, but I, had hoped you had something more on your mind than your neighbors raiding your still.
Kadish: No, no, no, that's true, believe me, believe me that's true. I--a while back I got tired of trackin' down to the creek to get water, see, and I decided to drill me a well. About six weeks ago, it come in. And...wasn't water. It was whiskey.
(Paladin bursts out laughing.)
(Paladin pumps the well, then sips from the ladle of fluid.)
Paladin: Mr. Kadish, either I have stepped over the line into your fantasy, or you are about to become the richest drunkard in the world.
Paladin: There's bitterness in truth. A small pill. But a man like you can't swallow it. "I'll be strong tomorrow". The eternal cry of the weak.
Paladin: That's true. He drilled a well for water, and he hit pure whiskey.
Sylvia: I'm not surprised.
Paladin: You're not.
Sylvia: My husband has a special gift for alcoholic catastrophe. If he were lost, it would be in the mountains and dogs would bring him brandy. Or if he got caught in a hurricane, he would run for the nearest shelter and it would turn out to be a distillery.
Kadish: I drink on accounta what it does to me. It's a kind of a twisted magic in it. Stretches me in every direction. I can walk taller, ride further, shoot straighter, talk smarter than anybody in town. That's what one drink does.
Kadish: Second drink, huh? That second drink can make me work miracles. Hmmph. That second drink, I can empty a swimming hole fulla kids and take 'em right back to the schoolyard. And strange dogs answer my commands and tomcats go right back where they come from. And birds! (Chuckles) Nightingales take the tenor parts when I sing. Hmmph.
Paladin: You've been off that stuff for a year. Didn't that teach you anything?
Kadish: Yeah. Taught me one thing. Taught me where the enemy is. Its name is John Barleycorn, and the enemy lives right there, in that third drink. And he can make me walk shorter, ride lesser, shoot crookeder, and talk stupider than anybody I know.
Paladin: Well, Moses, you were right. Two drinks in you and you can accomplish miracles. Sing with the nightingales and charm strange dogs. And apparently you whipped that third drink.
Kadish: Ah, the enemy wasn't in that third drink, Mr. Paladin. (Glances at his wife) Wasn't in her too much, either, I guess it was in me.