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of new forms of alcohol and one day B. discovered
Mandarin Curasao. It is extremely powerful stuff
and, I think, must have some kind of dope in it as,
at any rate, one evening B. drank a great deal of it
and wandered off by himself. No one knows what
actually happened to him, but he returned home the
next morning, very early, so badly damaged that he
was hardly recognizable, and said that he had tried
to fight the French Army, that the French Army
had won, and that he would never touch Mandarin
Curagao again.
We met another Irishman in the Quarter. He
was a journalist and spoke French as much like a
Frenchman as any Irishman can who already speaks
with a strong Irish accent. He had absorbed so
much absinthe before the War that he had become
completely paralysed. He went into a home and
had to be taught, by slow degrees, how to use his
limbs. He frequently went out to Montmartre and
Les Halles. One morning he arrived at the Cafe
Parnasse, about eight a.m., with a friend of his.
They had been out all night and had just come from
the markets. They had some dice with them and
decided to toss up for the possession of the next per-
son who entered the cafe. The Irishman won and
they sat and waited. There were only very few
people who came in so early and they had to wait
for some time, meanwhile, consoling themselves with
a few Pernod Susie fines. After a time the door
opened and a dark respectable-looking man entered.
The Irishman jumped at him and screamed, " Fve
won you! Tve won you! You're mine! " The man