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THE    OLD    SOAK 

AND 
HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 


BOOKS  BY  DON  MARQUIS 


Cruise  of  the  Jasper  B. 
Danny's  Own  Story 
Dreams  and  Dust 

Herahone  and  Her  Little  Group  of 
Serious  Thinkers 

Prefaces:  Decorations  by  Tony  Sarg 
The  Old  Soae:  and  Hail  and  Farewell 


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THE  OLD  SOAK 


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THE  OLD  SOAK 

AND 
HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

BY 
DON  MARQUIS 


^^^>^. 


LINE   DRAWINGS 

BY 

STERLING  PATTERSON 


GARDEN  CITY,  N.  Y.,  AND  TORONTO 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
1921 


Sc*<iM.    Z^ 


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c  ,  c 


COPYRIGHT,    1921,    BY 

DOUBLEDAY,    PAGE    &    COMPANY 

ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED,   INCLUDING   THAT   OF   TRANSLATION 
INTO   FOREIGN   LANGUAGES,  INCLUDING   THE   SCANDINAVIAN 

COPYBIQHT  I914,  I9IS,  I916,   I918,   I919,  1920,  BY  SUN  PRINTING 
AND  PUBLISHING  ASSOCIATION 


JUH  22  i32l         \^ 
©t!.A617420    ' 


y\  .       A 


ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

The  author  thanks  the  Publishers 
of  the  New  York  Sun,  in  which 
the  following  sketches  and  verses 
originally  appeared,  for  permis- 
sion to  reissue  them  in  book  form. 


CONTENTS 

THE  OLD  SOAK 

CHAPTER 

PAGE 

I. 

Introducing  the  Old  Soak .... 

3 

II. 

Beginning  the  Old  Soak's  History  of 

the  Rum  Demon 

7 

III. 

Liquor  and  Hennery  Simms    . 

n 

IV. 

The  Old  Soak's  History;  The  Bar 

- 

room  as  an  Educative  Influence     . 

15 

V. 

Look  Out  for  Crime  Waves !  .      .      . 

18 

VI. 

The  Barroom  and  the  Arts 

21 

VII. 

An  Argument  with  the  Old  Woman. 

26 

VIII. 

More  Evils  of  Prohibition. 

28 

IX. 

Preparing  for  Christmas    .... 

32 

X. 

The  Old  Soak  Fears  for  the  Growing 

r 

Children 

37 

XI. 

Jabe  Potter's  Optimism     .... 

41 

XII. 

As  It  Used  to  Be  of  a  Morning    . 

44 

XIII. 

Peace  and  Contentment    .... 

48 

XIV. 

Unfermented  Grape  Juice .... 

51 

XV. 

Political  Talk 

55 

XVI. 

Prohibition  and  Winter  Weather. 

51 

XVII. 

The  Old  Soak  Finds  a  Way    .      .      . 

61 

XVIII. 

The  Barroom's  Good  Influence    . 

64 

Vll 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX.  A  House  Divided 67 

XX.  The  Barroom  and  Manners    ...  70 

XXI.  Sympathy  Wanted 73 

XXII.  Prohibition  Is  Making  a  Free  Thinker 

of  the  Old  Soak 77 

HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

I.  A  Last  Drink 85 

II.  In  the  Old  Days 87 

III.  A  Dipsey  Chantey 88 

IV.  A  Certain  Club 91 

V.  A  Temperance  Tract 92 

VI.  A  Vision  in  the  Night 95 

VII.  The  Last  Case  of  Gin 96 

VIII.  Crowned  Singers 99 

IX.  Down  in  a  Wine  Vault      ....  100 

X.  Anacreon 103 

XI.  There  Were  Giants  in  the  Old  Days    .  105 

XII.  In  an  Old-Time  Tavern  Booth     .      .  107 

XIIL  The  Old  Brass  Railing 108 

XIV.  Once  Youth  W^as  Mme      ....  112 

XV.  In  a  Tavern  Booth 113 

XVI.  An  Engagement 114 

XVII.  The  Battle  of  the  Keyholes    ...  115 

XVIIL  In  a  Tavern  Booth 118 

XIX.  Yearnings  and  Memories  .      .      .      .  119 

XX.  Do  You  Remember.?     .....  120 
XXI.  And  You  May  Recall  This     ...  121 


CONTENTS 


IX 


CHAPTEB  PAGS 

XXII.  True,  But  What  of  It?   .      .      .      .  122 

XXIII.  A  Summer  Day  Dream  ....  123 

XXIV.  On  Swearing  Off  Again  ....  124 
XXV.  After  Several  Highballs  ....  126 

XXVI.  Chant  Royal  of  the  Dejected  Dip- 
somaniac       127 

XXVII.     Proverbs  XXIII,  29 130 

XXVIII.     An  Object  Lesson 132 

XXIX.    A  Kansas  Tragedy 135 


THE   OLD    SOAK 

AND 
HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 


Chapter  One 

Introducing  the  Old  Soak 

/^UR  friend,  the  Old  Soak,  came  in  from  his  home 
^^  in  Flatbush  to  see  us  not  long  ago,  in  anything 
but  a  jovial  mood. 

"I  see  that  some  persons  think  there  is  still  hope 
for  a  liberal  interpretation  of  the  law  so  that  beer 
and  light  wines  may  be  sold,"  said  we. 

"Hope,"  said  he,  moodily,  "is  a  fine  thing,  but 
it  don't  gurgle  none  when  you  pour  it  out  of  a  bottle. 
Hope  is  all  right,  and  so  is  Faith  .  .  .  but 
what  I  would  like  to  see  is  a  little  Charity. 

"As  far  as  Hope  is  concerned,  I'd  rather  have 
Despair  combined  with  a  case  of  Bourbon  liquor  than 
all  the  Hope  in  the  world  by  itself. 

"Hope  is  what  these  here  fellows  has  got  that 
is  tryin'  to  make  their  own  with  a  tea-kettle 
and  a  piece  of  hose.  That's  awful  stuff,  that  is. 
There's  a  friend  of  mine  made  some  of  that  stuff 

3 


4  THE  OLD  SOAK 

and  he  was  scared  of  it,  and  lie  thinks  before  he 
drinks  any  he  will  try  some  of  it  onto  a  dumb 
beast. 

"But  there  ain't  no  dumb  beast  anywheres  handy, 
so  he  feeds  some  of  it  to  his  wife's  parrot.  That 
there  parrot  was  the  only  parrot  I  ever  knowed 
of  that  wasn't  named  Polly.  It  was  named  Peter, 
and  was  supposed  to  be  a  gentleman  parrot  for  the 
last  eight  or  ten  years.  But  whether  it  was  or  not, 
after  it  drank  some  of  that  there  home-made  hootch 
Peter  went  and  laid  an  egg. 

"That  there  home-made  stuff  ain't  anything  to 
trifle  with. 

"It's  like  amateur  theatricals.  Amateur  theatri- 
cals is  all  right  for  an  occupation  for  them  that^hasn't 
got  anything  to  do  nor  nowhere  to  go,  but  they 
cause  useless  agony  to  an  audience.  Home-made 
booze  may  be  all  right  to  take  the  grease  spots 
out  of  the  rugs  with,  but  it  ain't  for  the  human 
stomach  to  drink.  Home-made  booze  is  either  a 
farce  with  no  serious  kick  to  it,  or  else  a  tragedy 
with  an  unhappy  ending.  No,  sir,  as  soon  as  what 
is  left  has  been  drunk  I  will  kiss  good-bye  to  the 
shores  of  this  land  of  holiness  and  suffering  and 
go  to  some  country  where  the  vegetation  just 
naturally  works  itself  up  into  liquor  in  a  professional 
manner,  and  end  my  days  in  contentment  and 
iniquity. 

"Unless,"  he  continued,  with  a  faint  gleam  of 


INTRODUCING   THE  OLD  SOAK         5 

hope,  "the  smuggling  business  develops  into  what  it 
ought  to.  And  it  may.  There's  some  friends  of 
mine  already  picked  out  a  likely  spot  on  the  shores 
of  Long  Island  and  dug  a  hole  in  the  sand  that 
kegs  might  wash  into  if  they  was  throwed  from 
passing  vessels.  They've  hoisted  friendly  signals, 
but  so  far  nothing  has  been  throwed  over- 
board." 

He  had  a  little  of  the  right  sort  on  his  hip,  and 
after  refreshing  himself,  he  announced: 

"I'm  writing  a  diary.  A  diary  of  the  past.  A 
kind  of  gol-dinged  autobiography  of  what  me  and 
Old  King  Booze  done  before  he  went  into  the  grave 
and  took  one  of  my  feet  with  him. 

"In  just  a  little  while  now  there  won't  be  any  one 
in  this  here  broad  land  of  ours,  speaking  of  it  geo- 
graphically, that  knows  what  an  old-fashioned  bar- 
room was  like.  They'll  meet  up  with  the  word, 
future  generations  of  posterity  will,  and  wonder  and 
wonder  and  wonder  just  what  a  saloon  could  have  re- 
sembled, and  they  will  cudgel  their  brains  in  vain, 
as  the  poet  says. 

"Often  in  my  own  perusal  of  reading  matter  I 
run  onto  institutions  that  I  would  like  to  know  more 
of.  But  no  one  ever  set  down  and  described  'em 
because  everyone  knowed  all  about  them  in  the 
time  when  the  writing  was  done.  Often  I  thought 
I  would  'a'  liked  to  knowed  all  about  them  Hanging 
Gardens  of  Babylon,   for  instance,   and  who  was 


6  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

hanged  in  'em  and  what  for;  but  nobody  ever  de- 
scribed 'em,  as  fur  as  I  know." 

"Have  you  got  any  of  it  written?"  we  asked  him. 

"Here's  the  start  of  it,"  said  he. 

We  present  it  just  as  the  Old  Soak  penned  it. 


Chapter  Two 
Beginning  the  Old  SoaFs  History  of  the  Rum  Demon 

T  WILL  hereinunder  set  down  nothing  but  what 
■■-  is  the  truth,  the  whole  truth  and  nothing  but  the 
truth,  so  help  me  God.  Well,  in  the  old  days,  before 
everybody  got  so  gosh-amighty  good,  barrooms  was 
so  frequent  that  nobody  thought  of  setting  down 
their  scenery  and  habits. 

Usually  you  went  into  it  by  a  pair  of  swinging 
doors  that  met  in  the  middle  and  didn't  go  full  length 
up,  so  you  could  see  over  the  top  of  the  door,  and 
if  any  one  was  to  come  into  one  door  you  didn't 
want  to  have  talk  with  or  anything  you  could  see 
him  and  have  a  chance  to  gravitate  out  the  door  at 
the  other  end  of  the  barroom  while  he  was  getting  in. 
But  you  couldn't  see  into  the  windows  of  them  as  a 
habitual  custom,  because  who  could  tell  whether  a 
customer's  family  was  going  to  pass  by  and  glance 
in.  Well,  in  your  heart  you  knew  you  was  doing 
nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,  but  all  families  even  in  the 
good  old  days  contained  some  prohibition  relations. 
The  Good  Book  says  that  flies  in  the  ointment  send 
forth  a  smell  to  heaven.     Well,  you  felt  more  private 

7 


8  THE  OLD  SOAK 

like  with  the  windows  fixed  thataway.  They  was 
painted,  soaped,  and  some  stained  glassed. 

It  had  its  good  sides  and  it  had  its  bad  sides,  but 
I  will  say  I  have  been  completely  out  of  touch,  just 
as  much  as  if  I  was  a  native  of  some  hot  country,  with 
all  kinds  of  morality  and  religions  of  all  sorts,  ever 
since  the  barrooms  was  shut  up.  From  childhood's 
earliest  hours  religion  has  been  one  of  my  favourite 
studies,  and  I  never  let  a  week  pass  without  I  get 
down  on  my  knees  some  time  or  another  and  pray 
about  something  any  more  than  I  would  let  a  week 
pass  without  I  washed  all  over.  It  was  early  recol- 
lections of  a  good  woman  that  kept  me  religious,  and 
I  hope  I  do  not  have  to  say  anything  further  to  this 
gang.  Well,  in  spite  of  my  religion  I  never  went  to 
church  none.  Because  it  ain't  reasonable  to  suppose 
that  a  man  could  keep  awake.  He  thinks,  "What 
if  I  should  nod,"  and  he  does.  So  that  always  throv/ed 
me  back  onto  the  barrooms  for  my  religion. 

Well,  then,  the  first  thing  you  know  when  you 
are  up  by  the  free  lunch  counter  eating  some  of  that 
delicatessen  in  comes  a  girl  and  says  to  contribute 
to  the  cause.  Well,  "What  cause  are  you.f^"  you 
ask  her.  Well,  she  says.  Salvation  Army  or  the 
Volunteers,  or  what  not,  and  so  forth,  as  the  case 
may  be,  or  maybe  she  was  boosting  for  some  of  these 
new  religions  that  gets  out  a  paper  and  these  girls 
go  around  and  sell  it  for  ten  cents,  which  they  always 
set  a  date  for  the  world  coming  to  an  end.    Well, 


TEE  OLD  SOAK'S  HISTORY  9 

then,  you  got  a  line  on  her  religion,  and  you  was 
ashamed  not  to  give  her  a  quarter,  for  you  had  spent 
a  dollar  for  drinks  already  that  morning.  And  then 
all  through  the  day  there  was  other  religions  come  in, 
one  after  another,  or  maybe  the  same  religion  over 
and  over  again. 

Well,  then,  you  kept  in  touch  with  religions  and 
it  made  a  better  man  out  of  you,  and  along  about 
evening  time  when  you  figured  on  going  home  you 
felt  like  it  wouldn't  be  right  to  tell  any  pervarications 
to  your  wife  about  how  you  come  to  be  so  late,  so 
you  just  said  over  the  phone:  "I  am  starting  right 
away.  I  stopped  into  Ed's  place  to  play  a  game 
of  pool  after  work  and  met  a  fellow  I  used  to  know. 
I  couldn't  get  away  from  him  and  I  was  too  thought- 
ful of  you  to  insist  for  him  to  come  home  to  dinner 
so  he  insisted  I  ought  to  have  a  drink  with  him  for 
old  time's  sake."  And  if  it  hadn't  been  for  being  in 
contact  with  different  religions  all  day  you  would  of 
lied  outright  to  your  wife  and  felt  mean  as  a  dog 
about  it  when  she  found  you  out. 

Well,  then,  it  needs  no  further  proof  that  the  abol- 
ishment of  the  saloon  has  taken  away  the  common 
people's  religions  from  them,  but  it  is  my  message  to 
tell  just  what  the  barrooms  was  like  and  not  to  criti- 
cize the  laws  of  the  land,  even  when  they  are  dam- 
foolish  as  so  many  of  them  are.  So  I  will  confine 
myself  to  describing  the  barroom  and  the  rum  demon. 

Well,  I  never  saw  much  rum  drunk  in  the  places 


10  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

where  I  hung  out.  Sometimes  some  baccardy  into  a 
cocktail,  but  for  my  part  cocktails  always  struck  me 
as  wicked.  The  good  book  says  that  the  Lord  started 
the  people  right  but  that  men  had  made  many  ad- 
ventures. Well,  then,  I  took  mine  straight  for  the 
most  part,  except  when  I  needed  some  special  kind 
of  a  pick-up  in  the  morning. 

And  the  good  book  says  not  to  tarry  long  over  the 
wine  cup,  and  I  never  done  that,  neither,  except  a 
little  Rhine  wine  in  the  summer  time,  but  mostly 
took  mine  straight. 

Well,  then,  to  come  down  to  describing  these 
phantom  places  over  which  the  raven  says  nevermore 
but  the  posterity  of  the  future  may  wish  to  have 
its  own  say  so  about.  Well,  there  was  a  long  counter 
always  kept  wiped  off,  not  like  these  here  sticky  soda- 
water  counters  which  the  boys  and  girls  back  of 
them  always  look  sticky,  too,  and  their  sleeves  look 
sticky  and  the  glasses  is  sticky,  but  in  a  decent  bar- 
room the  coimter  was  kept  swiped  off  clean  and  self- 
respectable. 

And  there  was  a  brass  rail  with  cuspidors  near  to  it, 
if  you  wanted  to  cuspidate  it  was  handy  right  there, 
and  there's  no  place  to  hawk  and  cuspidate  in  these 
here  soda-water  dives.  Not  that  I  ever  been  in 
them  much.  All  that  stuff  rots  the  lining  of  your 
stomach.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  being  the  pos- 
terity of  a  lot  of  Scotch  ancestors,  I  never  liked  soft 
stuff  in  my  insides. 


TEE  OLD  SOAK'S  HISTORY  11 

I  never  drunk  nothing  but  whiskey  for  comfort  and 
pleasure,  and  I  never  took  no  medicine  in  my  life 
except  calomel,  and  I  always  held  to  the  Presbyterian 
religion  as  my  favourite  religion  because  those  three 
things  has  got  some  kick  when  took  inside  of  you. 

Well,  then,  to  get  down  to  telling  just  what  these 
places  was  like,  it  would  surprise  this  generation  of 
posterity  how  genteel  some  of  them  was.  Which  I 
will  come  down  to  in  my  next  chapter.  Well,  I  will 
close  this  chapter. 


Chapter  Three 


Liquor  and  Hennery  Simms 

T  NEVER  could  see  liquor  drinking  as  a  bad 
-*•  habit,"  said  the  Old  Soak,  "though  I  admit  fair 
and  free  it  will  lead  to  bad  habits  if  it  ain't  watched. 

"In  these  here  remarks  of  mine,  I  aim  to  tell  the 
truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth,  so  help  me  Jehor- 
sophat,  as  the  good  book  says. 

"One  feller  I  knowed  whose  liquor  drinking  led 
to  bad  habits  was  mjf  old  friend  Hennery  Simms. 

"Every  time  Hennery  got  anyways  jingled  he 
used  to  fall  downstairs,  and  he  fell  down  so  often 
that  it  got  to  be  a  habit  and  you  couldn't  call  it 
nothing  else.     He  thought  he  had  to. 

"One  time  late  at  night  I  was  going  over  to  Brook- 
lyn on  the  subway,  and  I  seen  one  of  these  here 

12 


LIQUOR  AND  HENNERY  SIMMS       13 

escalators  with  Hennery  onto  it  moving  upwards, 
only  Hennery  wasn't  riding  on  his  feet,  he  was  riding 
on  the  spine  of  his  back. 

"And  when  he  got  to  the  top  of  the  thing  and  it 
skated  him  out  onto  the  level,  what  does  Hennery 
do  but  pitch  himself  onto  it  again,  head  first,  and 
again  he  was  carried  up. 

"After  I  seen  him  do  that  three  or  four  times  I 
rode  up  to  where  Hennery  was  floundering  at  and  I 
ast  him  what  was  he  doing. 

"'I'm  falling  downstairs,'  says  Hennery. 

"'What  you  doing  that  fur.?'  I  says. 

"'I'm  drunk,  ain't  I?'  says  Hennery.  'You  old 
fool,  you  knows  I  always  falls  downstairs  when  I'm 
drunk.' 

"'How  many  times  you  goin'  to  fall  down  these 
here  stairs.?'  I  ast  him. 

'"I  ain't  fell  down  these  here  stairs  once  yet,'  says 
Hennery,  'though  I  must  of  tried  to  a  dozen  times. 
I  been  tryin'  to  fall  down  these  here  stairs  ever  since 
dusk  set  in,  but  they's  something  wrong  about  'em. 

"'If  I  didn't  know  I  was  drunk,  I  would  swear 
these  here  stairs  was  movin'.' 

"'They  be  movin','  I  tells  him. 

"'You  go  about  your  business,'  he  says,  'and  don't 
mock  a  man  that's  doing  the  best  he  can.  In  course 
they  ain't  movin'. 

"'They  only  looks  like  they  was  movin'  to  me  be- 
cause I'm  drunk.     You  can't  fool  me.' 


14  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

"And  I  left  him  still  tryin'  to  fall  down  them 
stairs,  and  still  bein'  carried  up  again.  Which,  as  I 
remarked  at  first,  only  goes  to  show  that  drink  will 
lead  to  habits  if  it  ain't  watched,  even  when  it  ain't 
a  habit  itself." 

*'Do  you  have  any  more  of  your  History  of  the 
Rum  Demon  written?"  we  asked  him. 

"Uh-huh,"  said  he,  and  left  us  the  second  install- 
ment.   - 


Chapter  Four 

The  Old  Soak's  History — The  Barroom  as  an  Educa- 
tive Influence 

TXT'ELL,  as  I  said  in  my  first  installment,  some 
^  '^  of  them  barrooms  was  such  genteel  places 
they  would  surprise  you  if  you  had  got  the  idea  that 
they  was  all  gems  of  iniquity  and  wickedness  with 
the  bartenders  mostly  in  clean  collars  and  their  hair 
slicked,  not  like  so  many  of  these  soda-water  places, 
where  the  hair  is  stringy. 

Well,  this  is  for  future  generations  of  posterity 
that  will  have  never  saw  a  saloon,  and  the  whole 
truth  is  to  be  set  down,  so  help  me  God,  and  I  will  say 
that  it  took  a  good  deal  of  sweeping  sometimes  to 
keep  the  floor  clean  and  often  the  free  lunch  was  ap- 
proached with  one  fork  for  several  people,  especially 
the  beans.  Well,  it  has  been  three  or  four  years 
even  before  that  Eighteenth  Commandment  passed 
since  free  lunch  was  what  it  once  was.  And  some 
barrooms  was  under  par.  But  I  am  speaking  of  the 
average  good  class  barroom,  where  you  would  take 
your  own  children  or  grandchildren,  as  the  case  may 
be. 

15 


16  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

They  was  some  very  kind-hearted  places  among 
them  where  if  a  man  had  spent  all  his  money  already 
for  his  own  good  they  would  refuse  to  let  him  have 
anything  more  to  drink  until  maybe  someone  set 
them  up  for  him. 

But  to  get  down  to  brass  tacks  and  describe  what 
they  looked  like  more  thoroughly  I  will  say  they 
was  always  attractive  to  me  with  those  long  expen- 
sive mirrors  and  brass  fixtures  like  a  scene  of  elegance 
and  grandeur  out  of  the  Old  Testament  where  it 
tells  of  Solomon  in  all  his  glory.  And  if  a  gent  would 
forget  to  be  genteel  after  he  took  too  much  and  his 
money  was  all  spent  and  imbue  himself  with  loud 
talk  or  rough  language  and  maybe  want  to  hit  some- 
body and  there  was  none  of  his  friends  there  to  take 
charge  of  him  often  I  have  seen  such  thro  wed  out  on 
their  ear,  for  the  better  class  places  always  aimed  to  be 
decent  and  orderly  and  never  to  have  an  indecent 
reputation  for  loudness  and  roughhouseness. 

Well,  I  will  say  I  have  not  kept  up  with  politics 
like  I  used  to  since  the  barrooms  was  vanished.  My 
eyes  ain't  what  they  used  to  be  and  the  newspapers 
are  different  from  each  other  so  who  can  tell  what  to 
believe,  but  in  the  old  days  you  could  keep  in  touch 
with  politics  in  the  barrooms.  It  made  a  better 
citizen  out  of  you  for  every  man  ought  to  vote  for 
what  his  consciousness  tells  him  is  right  and  to  abide 
in  politics  by  his  consciousness. 

Well,  closing  the  barroom  has  shut  off  my  chance 


TEE  BARROOM  AS  AN  EDUCATOR     17 

to  be  imbued  with  political  dope  and  who  to  bet  on 
in  the  next  election  and  I  am  not  so  good  a  citizen 
as  before  the  saloons  was  closed.  I  would  not  know 
who  to  bet  on  in  any  election  but  I  used  to  get 
straight  tips  and  in  that  way  took  an  interest  in 
politics  which  a  man  is  scarcely  to  be  called  an  Amer- 
ican citizen  unless  he  does. 

Well  I  see  everywhere  where  all  the  doctors  and 
science  sharks  says  to  keep  in  touch  with  outdoor 
sports  if  you  want  to  keep  young.  I  used  to  know 
all  about  all  those  outdoor  sports  and  who  the  Giants 
had  bought  and  what  they  paid  for  him  and  who  was 
the  best  pitcher  and  what  the  dope  was  on  to- 
morrow's entries  at  Havana,  but  all  that  is  taken 
away  from  me  now  the  saloons  is  closed  and  I  got  no 
chance  to  get  into  touch  with  outdoor  sports  and 
I  feel  it  in  my  health.  Some  of  these  days  the  Pro- 
hibition aliments  will  wake  up  and  see  they  have 
ruined  the  country  but  then  it  will  be  too  late.  Tak- 
ing the  sports  away  from  a  nation  is  not  going  to 
do  it  any  good  when  the  next  war  comes  along  if  one 
does. 

Well,  I  promised  I  would  describe  more  what  they 
looked  like.  I  will  tackle  that  in  the  next  chapter,  so 
I  will  bring  this  installment  to  a  close. 


Chapter  Five 
Look  Out  For  Crime  Waves! 

THEY'RE  going  to  take  our  tobacco  next,  are 
they?"  said  the  Old  Soak.  "Well,  me,  I 
won't  struggle  none!  I  ain't  fit  to  struggle.  I'm 
licked;  my  heart's  broke.  They  can  come  and  take 
my  blood  if  they  want  it,  and  all  I'll  do  is  ask  'em 
whether  they'll  have  it  a  drop  at  a  time,  or  the  whole 
concerns  in  a  bucket. 

"All  I  say  is:  Watch  out  for  Crime  Waves  !  I  don't 
threaten  nobody,  I  just  predict.  If  you  ever  waked 
up  about  1  o'clock  in  the  morning,  two  or  three  miles 
from  a  store,  and  that  store  likely  closed,  and  no 
neighbour  near  by,  and  the  snow  drifting  the  roads 
shut,  and  wanted  a  smoke,  and  there  wasn't  a  single 
crumb  of  tobacco  nowheres  in  the  house,  you  know 
what  I  mean.  You  go  and  look  for  old  cigar  and 
cigarette  butts  to  crumble  into  your  pipe,  and  there 
ain't  none.  You  go  through  all  your  clothes  for 
little  mites  of  tobacco  that  have  maybe  jolted  into 

18 


LOOK  OUT  FOR  CRIME  WAVES!       19 

your  pockets,  and  there  ain't  none.  Your  summer 
clothes  is  packed  away  into  the  bottom  of  a  trunk 
somewheres,  and  you  wake  your  wife  to  find  the 
key  to  the  trunk,  and  you  get  the  clothes  and  there 
ain't  no  tobacco  in  them  pockets,  either. 

"And  then  you  and  your  wife  has  words.  And  you 
sit  and  suffer  and  cuss  and  chew  the  stem  of  your 
empty  pipe.  By  3  in  the  morning  there  ain't  no  cus- 
tomary crime  known  you  wouldn't  commit.  By 
4  o'clock  you  begin  to  think  of  new  crimes,  and  how 
you'd  like  to  commit  them  and  then  make  up  comic 
songs  about  'em  and  go  and  sing  them  songs  at  the 
funerals  of  them  you've  slew. 

"Hark  to  me:  If  tobacco  goes  next,  there'll  be  a 
crime  wave !  Take  away  a  man's  booze,  and  he  dies, 
or  embraces  dope  or  religion,  or  goes  abroad,  or 
makes  it  at  home,  or  drinks  varnish,  or  gets  philo- 
sophical or  something.  But  tobacco !  No,  sir !  There 
ain't  any  substitute.  Why,  the  only  way  they're 
getting  away  with  this  booze  thing  now  is  because 
millions  and  millions  of  shattered  nerves  is  solacing 
and  soothing  theirselves  with  tobacco. 

"I'm  mild,  myself.  I  won't  explode.  I'm  getting 
my  booze.  I  know  where  there's  plenty  of  it.  My 
heart's  broke  to  see  the  saloons  closed,  and  I'm  licked 
by  the  overwhelming  righteous  .  .  .  but  I  won't 
suffer  any  personal  for  a  long  time  yet.  But 
there's  them  that  will.  And  on  top  of  everything 
else,  tobacco   is   to  go!    All  right,  take  it — but  I 


so  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

say  solemn  and  wamingly:  Looh  Out  For  Crime 
Waves  I 

"The  godly  and  the  righteous  can  push  us  wicked 
persons  just  so  far,  but  worms  will  turn.  Look  at  the 
Garden  of  Eden!  The  mammal  of  iniquity  ain*t 
never  yet  been  completely  abolished.  Look  at  the 
history  of  the  world — every  once  in  a  while  it  has 
always  looked  as  if  the  pious  and  the  uplifter  was 
going  to  bring  in  the  millennium,  with  bells  on  it — 
but  something  has  always  happened  just  in  time  and 
the  mammal  of  unrighteousness  has  come  into  his 
own  again.  I  ain't  threatening;  I  just  predict — 
Looh  Out  For  Crime  Waves! 

"As  for  me,  I  may  never  see  Satan  come  back 
home.  I'm  old.  I  ain't  long  for  this  weary  land  of 
purity  and  this  vale  of  tears  and  virtue.  I'll  soon 
be  in  a  place  where  the  godly  cease  from  troubling 
and  the  wicked  are  at  rest.  But  I  got  children  and 
grandchildren  that'll  fight  against  the  millennium 
to  the  last  gasp,  if  I  know  the  breed,  and  I'm  going 
to  pass  on  full  of  hope  and  trust  and  calm  belief. 

"Here,"  concluded  the  Old  Soak,  unscrewing 
the  top  of  his  pocket  flask,  "here  is  to  the  mammal 
of  unrighteousness!" 

He  deposited  on  our  desk  the  next  installment  of 
his  History. 


Chapter  Six 

Continuing  the  Old  SoaFs  History — The  Barroom 

and  the  Arts 

"IXT'ELL,  I  promised  to  describe  what  the  saloon 
^  ^  that  has  been  banished  was  like  so  that  future 
generations  of  posterity  will  know  what  it  was  like 
they  never  having  seen  one.  And  maybe  being 
curious,  which  I  would  give  a  good  deal  to  know  how 
they  got  all  their  animals  into  the  ark  only  nobody 
that  was  on  the  spot  thought  to  write  it  down  and 
figure  the  room  for  the  stalls  and  cages  and  when 
it  comes  to  that  how  did  they  train  animals  to  talk 
in  those  days  like  Balaam  and  his  ass,  and  Moses 
knocking  the  water  out  of  the  rocks  always  inter- 
ested me. 

Which  I  will  tell  the  truth,  so  help  me.  It  used 
to  be  this  way:  some  had  tables  and  some  did  not. 
But  I  never  was  much  of  a  one  for  tables,  for  if  you 
set  down  your  legs  don't  tell  you  anything  about  how 
you  are  standing  it  till  you  get  up  and  find  you  have 
went  further  than  you  intended,  but  if  you  stand  up 
your  legs  gives  you  a  warning  from  time  to  time  you 
better  not  have  but  one  more. 

21 


n  THE  OLD  SOAK 

Well,  I  will  tell  the  truth.  And  one  thing  is  the 
treating  habit  was  a  great  evil.  They  would  come 
too  fast,  and  you  would  take  a  light  drink  like  Rhine 
wine  whilst  they  was  coming  too  fast  and  that  way 
use  up  considerable  room  that  you  could  of  had  more 
advantage  from  if  you  had  saved  it  for  something 
important. 

Well,  the  good  book  says  to  beware  of  wine  and 
evil  communications  corrupts  a  good  many.  Well, 
what  I  always  wanted  was  that  warm  feeling  that 
started  about  the  equator  and  spread  gentle  all  over 
you  till  you  loved  your  neighbour  as  the  good  book 
says  and  wine  never  had  the  eflficiency  for  me. 

Well,  I  will  say  even  if  the  treating  habit  was  a 
great  evil  it  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  any 
good.  Well,  I  promised  to  come  down  to  brass  tacks 
and  describe  what  the  old-time  barroom  looked  like. 
Some  of  the  old  timers  had  sawdust  on  the  floor, 
which  I  never  cared  much  for  that  as  it  never  looked 
genteel  to  me  and  almost  anything  might  be  mixed 
into  it. 

I  will  tell  the  whole  truth,  so  help  me.  And  an- 
other kick  I  got  is  about  business  advantages. 
Which  you  used  to  be  lined  up  by  the  bar  ^ve  or  six 
of  you  and  suppose  you  was  in  the  real  estate  business 
or  something  a  fellow  would  say  he  had  an  idea  that 
such  and  such  a  section  would  be  going  to  have  a 
boom  and  that  started  you  figuring  on  it.  Well, 
I  missed  a  lot  of  business  opportunities  like  that  since 


TEE  BARROOM  AND  TEE  ARTS       23 

the  barroom  has  been  vanished.  What  can  a  coun- 
try expect  if  it  destroys  all  chances  a  man  has  got  to 
get  ahead  in  business?  The  next  time  they  ask  us 
for  business  as  usual  to  win  a  war  with  this  country 
will  find  out  something  about  closing  up  all  chances 
a  man  has  to  get  tips  on  their  business  chances. 

Well,  the  good  book  says  to  laugh  and  grow  fat 
and  since  the  barroom  has  been  taken  away,  what 
chance  you  got  to  hear  any  new  stories  I  would  like 
to  know.  Well,  so  help  me,  I  said  I  would  tell  the 
truth,  and  the  truth  is  some  of  them  stories  was  not 
fit  to  offer  up  along  with  your  prayers,  but  at  the 
same  time  you  got  acquainted  with  some  right  up- 
to-date  fellows.  Well,  what  I  want  to  know  is  how 
could  you  blame  a  country  for  turning  into  Bolshe- 
visitors  if  all  chance  for  sociability  is  shut  off  by 
the  government  from  the  plain  people.^ 

Well,  the  better  class  of  them  had  pictures  on  the 
walls,  and  since  they  been  taken  away  what  chance 
has  a  busy  man  like  me  got  to  go  to  a  museum  and 
see  all  them  works  of  art  hand  painted  by  artists 
and  looking  as  shck  and  shiny  as  one  of  these  here 
circus  lithographs.  Well,  a  country  wants  to  look 
out  what  it  is  doing  when  it  shuts  off  from  the  plain 
people  all  the  chance  to  educate  itself  in  the  high  arts 
and  hand  painting.  Some  of  the  frames  by  them- 
selves must  of  been  worth  a  good  deal  of  money. 

The  Good  Book  says  you  shalt  not  live  by  bread 
alone  and  if  you  ain't  got  a  chance  to  educate  your- 


24  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

self  in  the  high  arts  or  nothing  after  a  while  this  coun- 
try will  get  to  the  place  where  all  the  foreign  countries 
will  laugh  at  us  for  we  won't  know  good  hand  paint- 
ing when  we  see  it.  Well,  they  was  a  story  to  all  them 
hand  paintings,  and  often  when  business  was  slack 
I  used  to  talk  with  Ed  the  bartender  about  them 
paintings  and  what  did  he  suppose  they  was  about. 

What  chance  have  I  got  to  go  and  buy  a  box  to 
set  in  every  night  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House 
I  would  like  to  know  and  hear  singing.  Well,  the 
good  book  says  not  to  have  anything  to  do  with  a 
man  that  ain't  got  any  music  in  his  soul  and  the 
right  kind  of  a  crowd  in  the  right  kind  of  a  bar- 
room could  all  get  to  singing  together  and  furnish 
me  with  music. 

A  government  that  takes  away  all  its  music  like 
that  from  the  plain  people  had  better  watch  out. 
Some  of  these  days  there  will  be  another  big  war  and 
what  will  they  do  without  music.  I  always  been  fond 
of  music  and  there  ain't  anywhere  I  can  go  that  it 
sounds  the  same  sort  of  warmed  up  and  friendly 
and  careless.  Let  alone  taking  away  my  chance  to 
meet  up  with  different  religions  taking  away  my 
music  has  been  a  big  blow  to  me. 

Well,  I  will  tell  the  truth  so  help  me,  it  was  a  nice 
place  to  drop  into  on  a  rainy  day;  you  don't  want  to 
be  setting  dowTi  at  home  on  a  rainy  day,  reading  your 
Bible  all  the  time.  But  since  they  been  closed  I 
had  to  do  a  lot  of  reading  to  get  through  the  day 


TEE  BARROOM  AND  THE  ARTS       25 

somehow  and  the  wife  is  too  busy  to  talk  to  me  and 
the  rest  of  the  family  is  at  work  or  somewheres. 

Well,  another  evil  is  I  been  doing  too  much  read- 
ing and  that  will  rot  out  your  brains  unless  of  course 
it  is  the  good  book  and  you  get  kind  of  mixed  up  with 
all  them  revelations  and  things.  And  you  get  tired 
figuring  out  almanacs  and  the  book  with  1,000 
drummer's  jokes  in  it  don't  sound  so  good  in  print 
as  when  a  fellow  tells  them  to  you  and  I  never  was 
much  of  a  one  for  novels.  \Miat  I  like  is  books  about 
something  you  could  maybe  know  about  yourself 
and  maybe  some  of  them  old-time  wonders  of  the 
world  with  explanations  of  how  they  was  made. 
But  nobody  that  was  on  the  spot  took  the  trouble  to 
explain  a  lot  of  them  things  which  is  why  I  am  setting 
down  w^hat  the  barroom  was  like  so  help  me. 

Well,  in  the  next  chapter  I  will  describe  it  some 
more  or  future  generations  will  have  no  notion  of 
them  without  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States 
changes  its  mind  and  comes  to  its  census  again. 


Chapter  Seven 
An  Argument  With  the  Old  Woman 


^  I  ^HE  Old  Woman  and  me  had  quite  an  argument 
-*-  last  Sunday,"  said  the  Old  Soak.  "It  ended  up 
with  her  turning  a  saucepan  full  of  hot  peas  onto  my 
bald  spot,  which  ain't  no  way  to  treat  garden  truck, 
with  the  cost  of  things  what  they  be. 

"But  I  won  one  of  these  here  moral  victories,  even 
if  she  did  get  the  best  of  me  and  chase  me  out  of  the 
house. 

"It  all  come  about  over  some  pie  we  had  for  dinner 
on  Sunday.  It  looked  like  mince  pie  to  me  when  she 
set  it  on  the  table,  and  I  says  to  her  why  don't  she 
make  some  rhubarb  pie  or  apple  pie  or  something, 
for  this  is  a  hell  of  a  time  of  year  to  be  having  mince 
pie.  And  mince  pie  ain't  no  good  anyhow  unless 
you  put  a  shot  of  brandy  or  hard  cider  into  it.  She 
knows  I  orter  be  careful  what  I  put  into  my 
stomach,  which  is  all  to  the  bad  since  I  can't  get 
the  right  kind  of  drink  any  more,  and  I  told  her 
so. 

26 


AN  ARGUMENT  27 

"*Well,  then,'  says  she,  'this  ain't  mince  pie. 
This  is  raisin  pie.' 

*** Raisin  pie!'  I  says,  and  I  was  shocked  and 
scandaHzed.  *  Raisin  pie!  Good  lord,  woman,  are 
you  crazy?  You  don't  mean  to  say  you've  went 
and  took  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  good  raisins  and 
went  and  wasted  them  thataway  by  puttin'  'em  in  a 
pie!  It's  the  most  extravagant  thing  I  ever  hearn 
tell  on !  Ain't  you  got  sense  enough  to  know  that  in 
these  days  raisins  ain't  something  you  eat?' 

"*Well,  what  are  they,  then?'  she  says. 

"*  Raisins,  I  told  her,  *is  something  you  make 
hootch  out  of,  and  you  know  I'm  reduced  to  makin' 
my  own  stuff  these  days.  And  yet  here  you  be,  put- 
tin'  at  least  a  quart  of  good  raisins  into  a  gosh-darned 
pie!' 

"Well,  one  word  led  to  another,  and,  as  I  said,  she 
hit  me  with  the  peas.  But  I  got  away  with  that  pie. 
I  won  the  moral  victory.  I  got  that  pie  fermentin' 
now,  in  the  bottom  of  a  cask  full  of  grape  and  berry 
juice  and  other  truck  I  picked  up  here  and  there. 
No,  sir,  there  ain't  goin'  to  be  no  raisins  wasted 
around  my  house  by  eatin'  of  'em  in  this  here  time 
of  need!" 

The  Old  Soak  was  silent  a  moment,  and  then  he 
said:  "This  here  installment  of  my  diary  of  booze 
takes  up  that  very  point  of  quarrellin'  with  the  Old 
Woman." 


Chapter  Eight 

The  Old  SoaFs  History — More  Evils  of  Prohibition 

TXT'ELL,  another  kick  I  got  on  the  abvoh'tion  of 
^  ^  the  barroom  is  the  fact  that  you  got  to  stay 
around  home  so  much  and  that  naturally  leads  to  hav- 
ing a  row  with  your  wife. 

When  there  was  barrooms  my  wife  used  to  jaw 
me  every  time  I  come  home  anyways  lit  up  and  I 
just  let  her  jaw  me  and  there  wasn't  any  row  for  I 
figured  better  let  her  get  away  with  it  who  knows 
maybe  she  thinks  she  is  right  about  it. 

But  now  I  stick  around  home  a  good  deal  of  the 
time  and  it  leads  to  words. 

Well,  she  says  to  me,  why  don't  you  go  and  get  a 
job  of  work  of  some  kind. 

Well,  I  tell  her,  mind  your  own  business  I  always 
been  a  good  pervider  ain't  I.  You  have  got  five  or 
six  children  working  for  you  ain't  you  and  a  man  that 
pervides  his  wife  with  Rve  or  six  children  to  work  for 
her  is  not  going  to  listen  to  no  back  talk. 

Well,  she  says,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  loaf 
around  home  all  the  time. 

Well,  I  says,  I'm  thinking  up  a  big  business  deal 

28 


MORE  EVILS  OF  PROHIBITION        29 

but  that's  the  way  with  women  they  never  under- 
stand they  got  to  keep  their  mouth  shut  and  give 
a  man  peace  and  quiet  to  do  his  thinking  in  so  he  can 
make  them  a  good  hving  all  they  think  about  is  new- 
fangled ways  to  spend  the  money  after  he  has  slaved 
himself  half  to  death  making  it. 

Well,  she  says,  I  ain't  seen  you  slaving  any  lately. 

Well,  I  tells  her,  I  done  all  my  hard  slaving  when 
I  was  young  and  I  got  a  little  money  coming  in  right 
along  from  them  two  houses  I  own,  and  I  ain't  going 
to  work  myself  into  the  grave  for  no  extravagant 
woman,  and  me  with  a  heart  pappitation  you  can 
hear  half  a  mile  on  a  clear  day. 

Well,  she  says,  what  rent  money  them  two  houses 
brings  in  don't  any  more  than  pay  for  the  booze  you 
drink. 

Well,  I  says,  you  Prohibitionists  done  that  to  me. 
You  went  and  made  it  plumb  impossible  to  get  good 
liquor  for  any  reasonable  price.  That  there  rent 
money  used  to  pay  for  three  times  the  booze  I  drink. 

Well,  she  says,  you  oughta  get  a  job. 

If  I  was  to  tie  myself  down  to  a  job,  I  tells  her, 
what  chance  would  I  have  to  trade  and  dicker  around 
and  make  little  turnovers,  let  alone  thinking  up  this 
big  business  deal  I  am  working  on. 

You  are  a  liar,  she  said,  and  if  I  knowed  where 
your  whiskey  was  hid  I'd  bust  every  bottle  and  what 
kind  of  a  business  deal  are  you  thinking  up. 

It  is  an  invention  I  says  to  her  and  you  mind  your 


30  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

own  business  just  because  I  have  stood  for  you  in- 
trupting  me  for  forty  years  is  no  sign  I  am  going  to 
stand  for  it  forty  years  more. 

You  can  quit  any  time  she  says  and  good  riddance 
the  children  will  keep  me  and  there  will  be  one  less 
to  cook  for  besides  being  ashamed  of  you  before  all 
my  own  friends  and  the  nice  people  the  children 
know. 

Well,  I  said,  here  I  set  turning  over  the  leaves  of 
the  Bible  and  you  attack  me  that  way  and  me  trying 
to  think  up  a  business  deal  to  buy  you  an  auto- 
mobile and  the  pappitation  in  my  heart  that  bad  it 
shakes  the  chair  I  am  setting  in  and  if  a  man  with  one 
foot  in  the  grave  can't  get  any  peace  and  quiet  to 
read  his  Bible  in  his  own  home  against  the  time  he  is 
going  to  cash  in  then  I  will  say  that  Prohibition  has 
brought  this  country  to  a  pretty  pass. 

Well,  she  says,  what  is  that  pappitation  from  but 
all  the  liquor  you  drunk. 

It  is  from  my  constitution,  I  says,  as  the  doctor 
will  tell  you  if  it  hadn't  been  for  a  little  mite  of  stimu- 
lant now  and  then  I  would  of  cashed  in  long  ago  and 
you  would  now  have  the  life  insurance  money. 

Well,  she  says,  what  kind  of  an  invention  is  this 
you  claim  you  are  thinking  up  all  the  time.^^ 

Yes,  I  says,  I  would  see  myself  telling  you,  wouldn't 
I  and  you  blabbing  it  the  next  time  a  lot  of  them 
church  women  meets  at  our  house  and  some  old 
church  deacon  getting  hold  of  it  and  getting  rich 


MORE  EVILS  OF  PROHIBITION        31 

off  of  it  and  me  wandering  the  streets  in  destitution 
with  the  rain  running  down  often  my  beard  and  the 
end  of  my  nose  because  you  and  the  children  cast  me 
into  the  street. 

Well,  she  says,  where  is  that  thousand  dollars  that 
my  uncle  Lemuel  willed  to  me  and  I  give  it  to  you  for 
one  of  them  inventions  nearly  thirty  years  ago  and 
never  seen  hide  nor  hair  on  it  since  then. 

Well,  I  says,  that  thousand  dollars  is  gone  and  it 
went  the  same  way  as  that  money  I  loaned  to  your 
cousin  Dan  when  he  failed  in  business  and  would  of 
starved  to  death  him  and  his  family  if  I  hadn't  come 
across  with  the  cash  that  is  where  that  thousand 
dollars  is. 

Well,  that's  the  way  it  goes,  until  I  get  tired  of 
trying  to  make  her  see  any  sense  and  sneak  out  to 
where  my  stuff  is  hid  and  fill  me  a  pint  bottle  for 
my  hip  pocket  and  go  and  find  a  friend  somewheres. 

And  in  just  that  way  Prohibition  is  breaking  up 
millions  and  millions  of  homes  every  day. 


Chapter  Nine 
Preparing  for  Christmas 

/CHRISTMAS,"  said  the  Old  Soak,  "will  soon  be 
^^  here.  But  me,  I  ain't  going  to  look  at  it.  I  ain't 
got  the  heart  to  face  it.  I'm  going  to  crawl  off  and 
make  arrangements  to  go  to  sleep  on  the  twenty- 
third  of  December  and  not  wake  up  until  the  second 
of  January. 

"Them  that  is  in  favour  of  a  denaturized  Christ- 
mas won't  be  interfered  with  by  me.  I  got  no  grudge 
against  them.  But  I  won't  intrude  any  on  them,  either. 
They  can  pass  through  the  holidays  in  an  orgy  of  so- 
briety, and  I'll  be  all  alone  in  my  own  little  room,  with 
my  memories  and  a  case  of  Bourbon  to  bear  me  up. 

32 


PREPARING  FOR  CHRISTMAS  33 

"I  never  could  look  on  Christmas  with  the  naked 
eye.  It  makes  me  so  darned  sad,  Christmas  does. 
There's  the  kids  ...  I  used  to  give  'em  presents, 
and  my  tendency  was  to  weep  as  I  give  them. 
*Poor  little  rascals,'  I  said  to  myself,  'they  think 
life  is  going  to  be  just  one  Christmas  tree  after  an- 
other, but  it  ain't.'  And  then  I'd  think  of  all  the 
Christmases  past  I  had  spent  with  good  friends, 
and  how  they  was  all  gone,  or  on  their  way.  And 
I'd  think  of  all  the  poor  folks  on  Christmas,  and  how 
the  efforts  made  for  them  at  that  season  was  only  a 
drop  in  the  bucket  to  what  they'd  need  the  year 
around.  And  along  about  December  twenty -third 
I  always  got  so  downhearted  and  sentimental  and 
discouraged  about  the  whole  darned  universe  I 
nearly  died  with  melancholy. 

"In  years  past,  the  remedy  was  at  hand.  A  few 
drinks  and  I  could  look  even  Christmas  in  the  face. 
A  few  more  and  I'd  stand  under  the  mistletoe  and 
sing,  *God  rest  ye  merry,  gentlemen.'  And  by  the 
night  of  Christmas  day  I  had  kidded  myself  into 
thinking  I  liked  it,  and  wanted  to  keep  it  up  for  a 
week. 

"But  this  Christmas  there  ain't  going  to  be  any 
general  iniquity  used  to  season  the  grand  rehgious 
festival  with,  except  among  a  few  of  us  Old  Soaks 
that  has  it  laid  away.  I  ain't  got  the  heart  to  look 
on  all  the  melancholy  critters  that  will  be  remember- 
ing the  drinks  they  had  last  year.     And  I  ain't  going 


34  THE  OLD  SOAK 

to  trot  my  own  feelings  out  and  make  'em  public, 
neither.  No,  sir.  Me,  I'm  going  to  hibernate  like  a 
bear  that  goes  to  sleep  with  his  thumb  in  his  mouth. 
Only  it  won't  be  a  thumb  I  have  in  my  mouth.  My 
house  will  be  full  of  children  and  grandchildren,  and 
there  will  be  a  passel  of  my  wife's  relations  that  has 
always  boosted  for  Prohibition,  but  any  of  'em  ain't 
going  to  see  the  old  man.  I  won't  mingle  in  any  of 
them  debilitated  festivities.  I  ain't  any  Old  Scrooge, 
but  I  respect  the  memory  of  the  old-time  Christmas, 
and  I'm  going  to  have  mine  all  by  myself,  the  mel- 
ancholy part  of  it  that  comes  first,  and  the  cure  for 
the  melancholy.  This  country  ain't  worthy  to  share 
in  my  kind  of  a  Christmas,  and  I  ain't  so  much  as 
going  to  stick  my  head  out  of  the  window  and  let 
it  smell  my  breath  till  after  the  holidays  is  over.  I 
got  presents  for  all  of  'em,  but  none  of  'em  is  to  be 
allowed  to  open  the  old  man's  door  and  poke  any 
presents  into  his  room  for  him.  They  ain't  worthy 
to  give  me  presents,  the  people  in  general  in  this 
country  ain't,  and  I  won't  take  none  from  them. 
They  might  'a'  got  together  and  stopped  this  Pro- 
hibition thing  before  it  got  such  a  start,  but  they 
didn't  have  the  gumption.  I've  seceded,  I  have. 
And  if  any  of  my  wife's  Prohibition  relations  comes 
sniffin'  and  smellin'  around  my  door,  where  I've 
locked  myself  in,  I'll  put  a  bullet  through  the  door. 
You  hear  me!  And  I'll  know  who's  sniffin',  too,  for 
I  can  tell  a  Prohibitionist  sniff  as  fur  as  I  can  hear  it. 


PREPARING  FOR  CHRISTMAS  35 

"I  got  a  bar  of  my  o^ti  all  fixed  up  in  my  bedroom 
and  there's  going  to  be  a  hot  water  kettle  near  by  it 
and  a  bowl  of  this  here  Tom  and  Jerry  setting  onto  it 
as  big  as  life. 

"And  every  time  I  wake  up  I'll  crawl  out  of  bed 
and  say  to  myself:  'Better  have  just  one  more.' 

"*Well,  now,'  myself  will  say  to  me,  'just  one!  I 
really  hadn't  orter  have  that  one;  I've  had  so  many 
— but  just  one  goes.' 

"And  then  we'll  mix  it  right  solemn  and  pour  in 
the  hot  water,  standing  there  in  front  of  the  bar,  with 
our  foot  onto  the  railing,  me  and  myself  together,  and 
myself  will  say  to  me: 

"*Well,  old  scout,  you  better  have  another  afore 
you  go.  It's  gettin'  right  like  holiday  weather  out- 
side.' 

"*I  hadn't  really  orter,'  I  will  say  to  myself  again, 
*but  it's  a  long  time  to  next  holidays,  ain't  it,  old 
scout?  And  here's  all  the  appurtenances  of  the  season 
to  you,  and  may  it  sing  through  your  digestive  orna- 
ments like  a  Christmas  carol.     Another  one,  Ed.' 

"And  then  I'll  skip  around  behind  the  bar  and  play 
I  was  Ed,  the  bartender,  and  say,  'Are  they  too  sweet 
for  you,  sir?' 

"And  then  I'll  play  I  was  myself  again  and  say, 
*No,  they  ain't,  Ed.  They're  just  right.  Ask  that 
feller  down  by  the  end  of  the  bar,  Ed,  to  join  us.  I 
know  him,  but  I  forget  his  name.' 

"And  then  I'll  play  I  was  the  feller  and  say  I 


36  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

hadn't  orter  have  another  but  I  will,  for  it's  always 
fair  weather  when  good  fellows  gets  together. 

"And  then  me  and  myself  and  that  other  feller 
will  have  three  more,  because  each  one  of  us  wants  to 
buy  one,  and  then  Ed  the  bartender  will  say  to  have 
one  on  the  house.  And  then  I'll  go  to  sleep  again 
and  hibernate  some  more.  And  don't  you  call  me 
out  of  that  there  room  till  along  about  noon  on  the 
second  day  of  January.  I'll  be  alone  in  there  with 
my  joy  and  my  grief  and  all  them  memories." 


Chapter  Ten 

Continuing  the  History — the  Old  Soak  Fears  for  the 
Growing  Children 

A  NOTHER  thing  wrong  with  Prohibition  that 
-*■  ^  will  one  day  make  them  sorry  they  passed  that 
commandment  onto  the  constitution  is  the  way  it  will 
bring  liquor  in  front  of  the  growing  children  and  if 
the  children  learns  to  drink  it  too  young  what  will 
become  of  this  country  I  would  like  to  know  when 
the  next  war  comes  along. 

I  guess  they  didn't  think  of  that,  all  these  here 
wise  Johnnies  when  they  passed  that  law. 

When  you  used  to  get  all  you  wanted  in  a  bar- 
room you  went  there  for  it  and  the  children  didn't 
see  you  and  they  couldn't  go  into  them  places  and 
it  wasn't  sticldng  around  under  the  children's  noses 
at  home  all  the  time  making  them  ask  Pa  what  do 
you  need  with  so  much  of  that  medicine  and  can  I 
have  some  Pa. 

But  now  you  have  it  at  home  and  it  is  sticking 
under  their  noses  all  the  time  and  the  chances  are 
millions  and  millions  of  children  will  learn  to  drink 
too  soon  just  because  it  is  sticking  under  their  noses 

37 


88  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

all  the  time  and  that  is  what  Prohibition  is  doing  for 
this  country  for  everyone  knows  if  they  drink  it  too 
soon  it  will  stunt  their  growths. 

It  is  a  great  responsibihty  to  bring  up  children  right 
and  Godfearing  and  be  sure  they  say  their  lay  me 
down  to  sleep  every  night  like  the  Good  Book  says 
they  should,  and  what  I  want  to  know  is  why  this 
government  don't  help  the  parents  and  fathers  with 
all  them  responsibilities  instead  of  being  a  stumbling 
block  in  their  way  and  putting  liquor  in  the  home 
where  the  growing  children  will  smell  it  all  the  time 
and  if  they  smell  it  they  will  want  some  of  it. 

Of  course  a  young  feller  has  got  to  learn  to  drink 
some  time  but  there  is  such  a  thing  as  learning  too 
young  and  it  stunts  their  growth  and  the  good  book 
says  keep  it  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings. 

Maybe  a  little  beer  is  all  right  if  a  baby  is  puny 
to  fatten  him  up  but  I  never  give  my  children  any 
hard  liquor  till  they  had  their  growth  and  I  got  no 
use  for  a  government  that  turns  in  and  puts  liquor 
in  the  home  to  make  drunkards  out  of  the  little  in- 
nocent children. 

Maybe  if  a  child  has  got  a  cold  a  little  whiskey  is 
good  for  him  and  what  is  left  in  the  bottom  of  the 
glass  when  their  dad  is  done  with  it  if  they  put  some 
sugar  and  water  in  it  and  play  they  are  like  Pa  won't 
hurt  none  of  them  any  and  will  help  make  them  so 
they  can  hold  their  share  when  they  get  growed  up, 
but  that  is  different  from  forcing  it  down  their  poor 


HE  FEARS  FOR  THE  CHILDREN       39 

little  innocent  throats  all  the  time  and  every  day, 
which  is  what  that  Prohibition  commandment 
amounts  to. 

I  knowed  a  child  once  in  a  fambly  where  they 
thought  it  was  smart  to  let  him  have  some  hard 
liquor  and  he  growed  up  with  goggle  eyes  and  all 
rickety  from  it  and  took  to  smoking  these  here  cheap 
cigarettes  and  it  was  a  shame  as  any  person  with  any 
heart  a  tall  would  have  said  and  does  this  govern- 
ment want  the  whole  future  generation  of  posterity 
to  grow  up  goggle  eyed  and  rickety  like  that  by  forc- 
ing liquor  into  the  home  and  where  will  they  get 
their  strong  soldiers  from  in  the  next  war. 

I  will  say  they  got  no  conscience  to  do  a  thing  Hke 
that  to  the  whole  passel  of  children  waiting  to  grow 
up  and  go  to  be  soldiers. 

It  is  enough  to  make  any  honest  man  stop  and  think 
and  his  heart  bleed  when  he  thinks  of  all  them  mil- 
lions and  millions  of  innocent  children  and  the  way 
they  are  being  ruined  with  liquor  in  the  home  and 
maybe  helping  their  daddies  make  it  with  yeast  and 
raisins  and  things  and  cornmeal  in  the  cellar. 

I  teached  my  boys  to  drink  in  the  barroom  just  as 
fast  as  they  growed  up  and  teached  them  to  tell  good 
liquor  from  bad  liquor  and  not  to  mix  their  drinks 
and  not  to  go  in  for  fancy  drinks  and  to  drink  along 
with  me  for  a  comfort  for  my  old  age  and  a  father  had 
ought  to  make  chums  of  his  boys  like  that  and  give 
them  the  right  example  and  they  stay  close  to  him  and 


40  THE  OLD  SOAK 

he  knows  wliat  they  are  thinking  about  and  can  give 
them  good  advice  and  my  boys  has  been  a  comfort 
to  me. 

My  boys  is  all  growed  up,  but  what  worries  me  is 
the  millions  and  millions  of  little  children  that  is  going 
to  learn  to  drink  too  young. 

Well,  in  my  next  chapter  I  promise  to  get  down  to 
brass  tacks  and  tell  just  exactly  what  those  barrooms 
was  like  that  has  been  vanished. 


Chapter  Eleven 
Jahe  Potter's  Optimism 


NO,  SIR,"  said  the  Old  Soak,  "I  ain't  got  so 
darned  much  left.  It  may  get  me  through  a 
year,  and  it  may  run  me  only  about  ten  months. 

"But  I  don't  want  so  much  as  I  use  to,  for  some 
reason.  In  course,  no  gentleman  of  the  old  school 
figgers  on  less  than  a  quart  a  day,  but  there  has  been 
times  when  I  exceeded  that  there  limit.  Looking 
back  on  them  times,  I  don't  know  whether  to  be  glad 
or  sorry.  It's  a  satisfaction  to  remember  that  I  had 
the  liquor,  but  it's  a  grief  to  know  I  won't  never 
have  that  same  liquor  again. 

"But  at  a  quart  a  day,  if  I'm  careful,  and  don't 
give  any  parties  to  new  acquaintances  that  is  took 
sudden  with  a  love  and  admiration  for  me,  I'll  toddle 
along  fer  ten  or  twelve  months  yet.  And  by  that 
time,  something  or  other  will  happen  in  my  favour; 
you  see  if  it  don't.  Either  the  country  will  backslide 
into  iniquity  again  in  spots;  or  else  somebody  will 

41 


42  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

die  and  leave  me  an  island  down  near  Cuba;  or  else 
Old  Jabe  Potter,  my  friend  out  on  Long  Island  I  told 
you  of,  will  get  his  smuggling  works  started  into  oper- 
ation. 

"Fact  is.  Old  Jabe  is  already  set,  and  his  smug- 
gling works  is  ready  to  operate  right  now,  only  there 
don't  seem  to  be  nothin'  to  smuggle,  Jabe  says.  He's 
got  one  of  these  here  gasolene  boats,  and  he  goes  out 
and  makes  signals  to  the  ocean  liners  to  and  from 
Europe,  but  they  ain't  onto  Jabe's  signals,  or  some- 
thing. I  tell  him  he's  got  to  make  arrangements  in 
advance  with  some  of  them  transatlantic  bartenders, 
for  they  don't  know  what  he's  driving  at.  *Well,' 
Jabe  says,  *  you'd  think  they  could  tell  by  my  looks 
I'm  thirsty,  wouldn't  you.^'  Jabe,  he's  romantic  and 
optimistic;  but  them  notions  of  his  is  all  right  if  they 
was  only  organized." 

He  paused  a  while,  refreshed  himself  from  his 
pocket  flask,  and  then  took  up  another  line  of  en- 
quiry. 

"What  I  would  like  to  know,"  he  said,  "is  what 
mean  folks  is  going  to  blame  their  meanness  onto, 
now  that  booze  is  gone.  It  used  to  be  a  good  excuse 
for  a  lot  of  people  that  wasn't  worth  nothin',  and 
knowed  it,  and  acted  ornery  .  .  .  booze  was  the 
answer,  everybody  said.  If  they  did  anything  they 
hadn't  orter,  people  said  they  was  all  right  except 
when  they  had  a  drink  or  two,  but  a  drink  or  two 
changed  their  entire  disposition,  and  the  drink  orter 


J  ABE  POTTER'S  OPTIMISM  43 

be  blamed,  and  not  them.  My  own  observation 
and  belief  leads  me  to  remark  that  them  kind  of 
folks  was  less  ornery  and  mean  when  they  had  booze 
than  when  they  didn't  have  it. 

"Well,  I  notice  in  myself  a  kind  of  a  habit  growing 
up  to  blame  everything  onto  Prohibition,  just  as 
Prohibitionists  used  to  blame  everything  onto  booze. 
I  want  to  be  fair  to  the  drys,  and  I  will  say  that 
neither  Prohibition  nor  booze  has  much  to  do  with 
making  a  mean  man  mean.  I  want  to  be  fair  to  the 
drys,  so  as  to  show  them  up;  they  ain't  fair  to  me, 
and  when  I'm  fair  to  them  it  shows  how  superior 
I  be." 


Chapter  Twelve 
More  of  the  History — As  It  Used  to  Be  of  a  Morning 

TT /"ELL,  I  promised  I  would  tell  just  what  those 
^  ^  vanished  barrooms  was  like,  and  I  will  tell  the 
truth,  so  help  me. 

One  thing  that  I  can't  get  used  to  going  without  is 
that  long  brass  railing  where  you  would  rest  your 
feet,  and  I  have  got  one  of  them  fixed  up  in  my  own 
bedroom  now  so  when  I  get  tired  setting  down  I  can 
go  and  stand  up  and  rest  my  feet  one  at  a  time. 

Well,  you  would  come  in  in  the  morning  and  you 
would  say,  Ed,  I  ain't  feeling  so  good  this  morning. 

I  wonder  what  could  the  matter  be,  Ed  says, 
though  he  has  got  a  pretty  good  idea  of  what  it  could 
be  all  the  time.     But  he's  too  kind  hearted  to  let  on. 

I  don't  know,  you  says  to  Ed,  I  guess  I  am  smoking 
too  much  lately,  \^^len  you  left  here  last  night,  Ed 
says,  you  seemed  to  be  feeling  all  right,  maybe  what 
you  got  is  a  little  touch  of  this  here  influenza. 

It  ain't  influenza,  Ed,  you  says  to  him,  it  is  them 
heavy  cigars  we  was  all  smoking  in  here  last  night. 
I  swallered  too  much  of  that  smoke,  Ed,  and  I  got  a 
headache  this  morning  and  my  stomach  feels  kind 

44 


''AS  IT  USED  TO  BE''  45 

o'  like  it  was  a  democratic  stomach  all  surrounded 
by  republican  voters,  and  a  lot  of  that  tobacco  must 
of  got  into  my  eyes  and  I  feel  so  rotten  this  morning 
that  when  my  wife  said  are  you  going  downtown 
without  your  breakfast  I  just  said  to  her  Hell  and 
walked  out  to  dodge  a  row  because  I  could  see  she  was 
bad  tempered  this  morning. 

What  would  you  say  to  a  little  absinthe,  says  Ed, 
sympathetic  and  helpful,  a  cocktail  or  frappy. 

No,  says  you,  if  you  was  to  say  what  I  used  to  say, 
I  leave  that  there  stuff  to  these  here  young  cigarette- 
smoking  squirts,  which  it  always  tasted  like  paregoric 
to  me. 

Yes,  sir,  Ed  says,  it  is  one  of  them  foreign  things, 
and  how  about  a  milk  punch,  it  is  sometimes  soothing 
when  a  person  has  smoked  too  much. 

No,  Ed,  you  says,  a  milk  punch  is  too  much  like 
vittles  and  I  can't  stand  the  idea  of  vittles. 

Yes,  sir,  Ed  used  to  say,  you  are  right,  sir,  how 
about  a  gin  fizz.  A  gin  fizz  will  bring  back  your 
stomach  to  life  right  gradual,  sir,  and  not  with  a 
shock  like  being  raised  from  the  dead. 

Ed,  you  says  to  him,  or  leastways  I  always  used 
to  say,  a  silver  fizz  is  too  gentle,  and  one  of  them 
golden  fizzes,  with  the  yellow  of  an  egg  in  it,  has  got 
the  same  objections  as  a  milk  punch,  it  is  too  much 
like  vittles. 

Yes,  sir,  Ed  says,  I  think  you  are  right  about 
vittles.     I  can  understand  how  you  feel  about  not 


46  THE  OLD  SOAK 

wanting  vittles  in  the  early  part  of  the  day.  And 
that  makes  you  love  Ed,  for  you  meet  a  lot  of  people 
who  can't  understand  that.  There  ain't  no  sym- 
pathy and  understanding  left  in  the  world  since  bar- 
tenders was  abolished. 

How  about  an  old-fashioned  whiskey  cocktail, 
says  Ed. 

You  feel  he  is  getting  nearer  to  it,  and  you  tell  him 
so,  but  it  don't  seem  just  like  the  right  thing  yet. 

And  then  Ed  sees  you  ain't  never  going  to  be  satis- 
fied with  nothing  till  after  it  is  into  you  and  he  takes 
the  matter  into  his  own  hands. 

I  know  what  is  the  matter  with  you,  he  says,  and 
what  you  want,  and  he  mixes  you  up  a  whiskey  sour 
and  you  get  a  little  cross  and  say  it  helped  some  but 
there  was  too  much  sugar  in  it  and  not  to  put  so 
much  sugar  in  the  next  one. 

And  by  the  time  you  drink  the  third  one,  some- 
where away  down  deep  inside  of  you  there  is  a  warm 
spot  wakes  up  and  kind  of  smiles. 

And  that  is  your  soul  has  waked  up. 

And  you  sort  of  wish  you  hadn't  been  so  mean 
with  your  wife  when  you  left  home,  and  you  look 
around  and  see  a  friend  and  have  one  with  him  and 
your  soul  says  to  you  away  down  deep  inside  of  you 
for  all  you  know  about  them  old  Bible  stories  they 
may  be  true  after  all  and  maybe  there  is  a  God  and 
kind  of  feel  glad  there  may  be  one,  and  if  your  friend 
says  let's  go  and  have  some  breakfast  you  are  sur- 


''AS  IT  USED  TO  BE''  47 

prised  to  find  out  you  could  eat  an  egg  if  it  ain't  too 
soft  or  ain't  too  done. 

Well,  I  promised,  so  help  me,  I  would  tell  the  truth 
about  them  barrooms  that  has  perished  away,  and 
the  truth  I  will  tell,  and  the  truth  with  me  used  to 
be  that  more  than  likely  it  wasn't  really  cigars  that 
used  to  get  me  feeling  that  way  in  the  mornings,  and 
I  will  take  up  a  different  part  of  the  subject  in  my 
next  chapter. 


Chapter  Thirteen 
Peace  and  Contentment 

PROHIBITION,"  said  the  Old  Soak,  "is  doing 
■*-  more  harm  than  you  can  see  with  the  naked 
eye.  Formerly  when  a  man  called  up  and  told  his 
wife  that  he  was  detained  at  his  office  by  an  unex- 
pected caller  on  business  just  as  he  was  starting  home 
his  wife  knew  he  had  stopped  to  take  three  or  four 
balls  with  the  boys  on  the  corner  and  thought  very 
little  about  it.  Now  she  wonders  if  that  unexpected 
caller  could  have  been  a  lady. 

"When  a  man  came  home  late  with  the  smell  of 
liquor  on  his  breath  he  knew  he  was  in  bad,  but  he 
knew  just  how  bad  in  he  was.  Now  everything  is 
uncertainty  and  guesswork  everywhere,  and  intel- 
lects is  cracking  under  strains  on  all  sides. 

"It  must  'a'  been  the  same  way  back  in  the  historic 
days  of  iniquity  and  antiquity,  when  the  Roman 
Empire  switched  all  of  a  sudden  from  being  heathen 

48 


PEACE  AND  CONTENTMENT  49 

to  being  Christian;  everybody  had  to  be  good  all  of 
a  sudden,  and  only  a  few  had  learnt  how;  and  every- 
body that  hadn't  quite  succeeded  in  turning  Christian 
went  around  for  a  while  wondering  if  everybody 
else  was  as  gosh-darned  Christian  as  they  let  on 
to  be.  I  know  a  lot  of  people  now  that  says 
they're  on  the  wagon,  but  I'd  hate  to  go  so  sound 
asleep  in  a  street  car  that  I  wouldn't  wake  up  if 
they  tried  to  pull  my  flask  out  of  my  pocket.  I 
don't  struggle  none  trying  to  be  good,  myself.  I'm  a 
dipsomaniac,  and  I  know  it,  and  I'm  contented  to  be 
that  way. 

"Years  ago  I  used  to  struggle,  and  think  maybe  I 
would  quit  drinking  some  time,  and  it  kept  me  un- 
happy. But  as  soon  as  I  come  right  out  and  ac- 
knowledged Booze  as  my  boss  and  master,  and  set 
him  up  and  crowned  him  king,  a  great  peace  fell  onto 
me,  and  I  ceased  to  struggle,  and  I  been  happy  and 
contented  and  full  of  love  for  my  fellow  men  ever 
since.  There  ain't  nothing  like  finding  out  which 
gang  you  belong  to  and  sticking  to  your  own  crowd 
consistent.  If  I  had  only  been  brought  up  to  be  a 
drunkard  when  I  was  young  I  would  'a'  settled  into  it 
natural  and  been  saved  a  lot  of  worry  and  struggle 
and  uncertainty.  But  there  was  years  when  I  fit 
against  it,  from  time  to  time,  and  it  kept  me  un- 
settled and  discontented,  and  I  wasted  a  lot  of  good 
time  trying  to  keep  sober  when  I  might  'a'  been 
drunk  and  cheerful,  radiating  joy  and  happiness  into 


50  THE  OLD  SOAK 

the  world  and  being  of  some  use  to  my  fellow  men. 
But  I  s'pose  everybody  thinks  if  they  had  their  life  to 
live  over  again  they'd  do  different,  and  the  main 
thing  is  to  reach  peace  and  contentment  toward  the 
end,  as  I  have  reached  it." 


Chapter  Fourteen 

Continuing  the  History  of  the  Rum  Demon — Unfer- 
mented  Grape  Juice 

TTT'ELL,  as  I  said  in  my  last  chapter,  it  is  time  for 
^^  me  to  get  down  to  brass  tacks  and  describe 
just  what  those  barrooms  that  has  been  vanished 
was  like  so  that  future  generations  of  posterity  will 
know  what  they  missed,  and  to  tell  the  truth  in  all 
particulars,  so  help  me. 

Some  of  them  was  that  arted  up  with  hand  paint- 
ings that  if  you  had  all  them  paintings  in  your  home 
you  would  feel  proud  of  yourself,  like  Solomon  in 
all  his  glory,  and  would  feel  like  you  was  living  in  the 
midst  of  a  high  art  museum,  and  the  shining  brass 
cuspidores  to  spit  in  and  the  brass  rail  and  all  them 
shiny  glasses  and  bottles  and  mirrors  made  up  a 
scene  of  grandeur  and  glory  like  the  good  book  men- 
tions and  you  would  think  you  was  King  Faro  of 
Egypt,  if  you  lived  in  the  midst  of  all  that  or  Job  in 
all  his  riches  before  the  itch  broke  out  on  him. 

Well,  speaking  of  the  Good  Book,  my  wife  has  al- 
ways been  more  or  less  of  a  prohibitionist  in  order 
to  show  me  that  she  is  independent  of  me,  and  one 

61 


52  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

day  one  of  these  here  church  friends  of  hers  tries  to 
tell  me  all  the  liquor  that  was  drinked  in  the  Bible 
wasn't  nothing  but  unfermented  grape  juice. 

Yes,  it  was,  I  said,  don't  you  believe  it  was,  like 
hell  it  was.  You  go  and  get  your  testament  and 
see  where  King  Solomon  talks  about  the  stuff  that 
makes  the  heart  merry  and  then  go  and  swill  yourself 
with  grape  juice  and  see  if  you  could  get  the  way  he 
was  when  he  wrote  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  for  to- 
morrow ye  die.  And  how  about  the  time  them  two 
women  came  to  him  with  that  one  child  and  both 
claimed  that  it  was  hern  and  he  says  to  the  officer 
on  duty,  let  me  see  that  there  sword  of  yourn  for  a 
minute  I'll  darned  soon  see  who  this  kid  belongs 
to.  And  verily  the  oflScer  drawed  his  sword  and  the 
King  he  heaved  it  up  and  was  about  to  cut  the  kid 
in  two  when  one  of  the  women  says  to  stop  unhand 
him  King  and  not  do  the  rash  act  it  is  the  other 
woman's  yew  lamb  and  let  her  have  it,  it  being  her 
own  all  the  time  and  her  one  yew  lamb  and  her  pre- 
ferring to  see  the  other  woman  grab  it  off  than  have 
half  of  it. 

Well,  says  the  King,  half  a  loaf  is  better  than  no 
bread,  but  with  infants  it  is  different,  take  the  child, 
it  is  yours  woman,  and  go  and  sin  no  more. 

Well,  now,  I  ask  you,  was  King  Solomon  drinking 
the  unfermented  juice  of  the  grape  when  he  got  that 
there  hunch,  or  was  he  not.^^  I  will  say  he  was  not. 
Them  radical  and  righteous  ideas  never  come  to  a 


UNFERMENTED  GRAPE  JUICE        53 

man  when  he  is  cold  sober.  He  has  got  to  have  a 
shot  of  something  moving  around  under  his  belt 
before  he  gets  thataway. 

And  how  about  them  Bible  hangovers,  I  said  to  this 
here  church  person.  Man  and  boy  I  been  a  student 
of  the  Bible  from  cover  to  cover  for  a  good  many 
years  now  and  I  never  seen  a  book  with  more  evi- 
dences of  hangovers  and  katzenjammers  into  it. 
How  about  that  there  book  that  says  vanity,  vanity, 
all  is  vanity.  Well,  I  ask  you,  did  you  ever  get  that 
way  in  the  morning  after  you  had  spent  the  night 
before  drinking  the  unfermented  juice  of  the  grape. 

That  there  Book  of  Exclusiastics  is  just  one  long 
howl  from  the  next  morning  head.  Things  seem 
right,  says  old  Exclusiastic,  and  they  look  right;  but 
if  you  bite  into  them  they  don't  taste  right,  or  words 
to  that  effect.  And  you  stick  around  awhile, 
says  old  man  Exclusiastic,  and  you'll  darned  soon 
see  they  ain't  nothing  right  nowhere  and  never  will 
be  again.  Moreover,  says  he,  I  was  wrong  when 
I  used  to  think  things  was  right;  there  ain't  never 
anything  anywhere  been  all  right  and  I  was  all  wrong 
when  I  was  a  young  feller  and  used  to  think  things 
was  right  and  the  wrongest  thing  about  the  whole 
business  is  the  darned  fools  like  I  used  to  be  who  go 
around  saying  things  is  all  right,  and  the  sum  and 
substance  of  everything  is  vanity,  says  he,  vanity, 
vanity,  all  is  vanity. 

You  could   tell   some  folks  that  that  there  old 


54  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

Exclusiastic  was  writing  as  the  result  of  unfermented 
grape  juice,  but  a  man  with  any  experience  of  his 
own  knows  a  good  deal  better  and  what  kind  of  a 
taste  was  in  his  mouth.  You  can't  tell  an  old  Bible 
reader  like  me  anything  about  this  unfermented 
stuff.  The  trouble  with  these  here  church  people  is 
that  too  many  of  them  ain't  never  read  the  Bible, 
or  if  they  did  read  it  they  read  it  with  the  idea  that 
it  was  saying  something  else  like  they  wanted  it  to 
say. 

I  always  stuck  to  the  Bible  in  spite  of  the  church 
folks  and  I  always  will  for  it  has  got  some  kick  into 
it.  There  is  three  things  in  the  world  I  always  stick 
to,  the  Bible  and  hard  liquor  and  calomel,  for  they  has 
got  the  kick  to  them.  You  can  have  all  your  light 
wines  and  imfermented  stuff  and  all  your  pretty 
new-thought  religions  and  all  your  new-fangled  medi- 
cines you  want  to,  but  for  me  I  will  stick  to  the  Old 
Testament  and  corn  whiskey  and  calomel  like  my 
forefathers  done  before  me.  You  can't  pull  any  of 
that  unfermented  stuff  on  me  and  get  away  with  it. 


Chapter  Fifteen 
Political  Talk 

^TpHE  Old  Soak  came  in  to  see  us  during  the  recent 
-■-  Presidential  campaign. 
"What  I  expected  has  come  to  pass,"  he  said, 
sorrowfully.  "This  here  Cox  that  everybody  hoped 
was  a  Wet  Prohibitionist  ain't  that  at  all.  He  ain't 
nothin'  but  a  Dry  Liquor  Man.  I  been  a  Republican 
ever  sense  the  days  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  but  I  had 
an  idee  this  year  I  was  goin'  to  have  fer  to  leave  the 
old  party  flat  on  account  o'  rmnours  I  hearn  that  this 
here  Cox  was  comin'  out  for  Hquor.  My  conscience 
is  Republican,  but  my  religion  is  liquor;  an'  I  would 
of  voted  agin  any  conscience  fer  the  sake  o'  my 
religion.  But  I  ain't  goin'  to  be  compelled  fer  to 
make  that   sacrifice.     I'd   ruther  vote  fer  an  out- 

65 


56  THE  OLD  SOAK 

an '-out  Prohibitionist  than  one  of  these  here  fellers 
that  gits  the  word  passed  private  to  the  wets  that 
they'll  be  a  stick  in  the  lemonade,  and  gets  the  word 
passed  private  to  the  drys  that  what  he  means  is 
nothin'  but  a  stick  o'  pep 'mint  candy.  They  ain't 
no  hope  fer  liquor  in  public  life  no  more;  it  has  be- 
come a  question  fer  the  home.  As  fur  es  my  own 
private  stock  is  concerned,  it  mostly  ain't.  But 
I  got  a  grand  idee  workin'  up.  My  old  woman's 
got  a  niece  who's  come  to  live  with  us,  an'  I'm  tryin' 
to  marry  that  there  gal  to  a  revenue  agent.  I  see 
by  the  papers  they  are  always  trackin'  down  a  couple 
thousand  gallons  somewheres  or  other,  and  I  don't 
hear  no  glass  crashin'  nowheres  to  indicate  w^here 
them  bottles  is  bein'  busted.  I  wants  somebody 
in  the  fambly  that  will  take  me  along  on  some  of 
these  here  raids  I  read  about." 


Chapter  Sixteen 

The    History    Continued — Prohibition    and    Winter 

Weather 

TX  T'ELL,  when  I  seen  all  them  men  shovelling 
^  ^  snow  and  ice  in  the  streets  and  no  place  to  go 
for  a  drink  and  maybe  one  of  them  spring  thaws 
coming  along  soon  now  which  they  are  always  full 
of  these  here  la  grip  germs  I  says  to  myself  them 
Prohibitionists  think  they  have  done  something 
pretty  smart  but  they  got  another  tliink  coming  to 
them. 

I  never  been  much  of  a  hand  to  kick  against  the 
weather.  As  a  fact,  I  use  to  like  all  lands  of  weather 
as  it  come  along. 

You  went  into  a  place  and  you  said  to  Ed  it  looks 
like  one  of  them  cold  rams  is  going  to  start  up  pretty 
soon,  Ed. 

Yes,  sir,  Ed  says,  it  is  pretty  raw.  The  wind  is 
ra wring.     What  will  you  have.^ 

Well,  I  use  to  say,  I  was  wondering  about  a  little 
Scotch  with  boiling  water  into  it  and  a  lump  of  butter 
and  a  lump  of  sugar  into  it  I  knowed  a  fellow  used 
to  treat  himself  thataway  one  time. 

57 


58  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

No,  sir,  says  Ed,  I  wouldn't  advise  anything  like 
that  sir,  it  will  get  you  sweating  inside  of  you  all 
around  your  stomach  and  lungs  and  then  you  will 
go  out  and  swallow  some  cold  damp  air  and  take  one 
of  them  inside  colds,  sir,  and  it  may  run  into  new- 
monia  or  this  here  pellicanitis. 

Well,  Ed,  I  don't  want  to  ketch  none  of  them 
germs,  you  would  say  to  him,  and  how  about  some 
rock  and  rye. 

You  better  stick  to  straight  rye  and  leave  out  the 
rock.  When  you  was  in  here  a  little  bit  ago  you  was 
drinking  straight  rye  and  you  don't  want  to  be  mix- 
ing them  too  much,  says  Ed. 

And  no  sooner  said  than  done. 

Or  maybe  it  was  summer  time  and  a  hot  day  and 
you  would  say  to  Ed  I  wonder  how  many  people 
is  getting  sun  struck  to-day,  Ed. 

A  good  many  says  Ed  they  drink  too  much  cold 
water  and  it  gets  to  them. 

I  am  glad  I  don't  have  to  go  out  into  the  awful 
heat,  you  would  say. 

The  main  thing  is  to  keep  your  pores  open  says 
Ed  for  if  you  stop  the  presspiration  that  means  a  sun 
stroke.  The  main  thing  is  to  encourage  the  press- 
piration to  sweat  itself  out  of  you. 

I  think  you  are  right  Ed  you  says  and  I  was  won- 
dering about  some  beer. 

No,  sir,  not  for  you,  says  Ed,  I  wouldn't  advise 
no  beer.     You  put  these  here  temperance  drinks  like 


PROHIBITION  AND  WINTER  59 

beer  and  sassperiller  into  your  stomach,  sir,  and  it 
takes  up  a  lot  of  room  you  will  wish  you  had  later 
in  the  day.  For  some  people  I  would  say  beer 
wouldn't  do  no  harm,  sir,  but  I  should  say,  sir,  that 
it  was  the  wrong  thing  for  you. 

One  of  them  long  silver  fizzes  with  ice  shook  up 
into  it  would  sound  nice  to  my  ears  as  it  went  down 
my  oozlygoozlum  you  would  say  to  Ed. 

Ed  he  is  kind  of  lazy  with  the  heat  and  he  don't 
want  to  shake  it  up  so  he  says  to  you  on  a  hot  day 
like  this  you  are  taking  chances  with  your  life  every 
time  you  put  ice  drinks  into  you  and  he  says  what's 
the  matter  with  that  rye  you  been  drinking  all  the 
early  part  of  the  day  that  is  the  best  thing  to  keep 
the  presspiration  coming  out  of  your  sweat  pores. 

Well,  no  sooner  said  than  done. 

The  number  of  times  them  old-fashioned  barten- 
ders has  saved  my  life  summer  and  winter  with  good 
advice  is  as  too  numerous  to  mention  as  is  the  stars 
in  the  sky  and  their  name  is  legend  as  the  good  book 
says. 

In  them  days  when  there  was  a  barroom  on  every 
corner  and  sometimes  four  barrooms  on  every  four 
corners  I  never  cared  about  the  weather  at  all  for  I 
knowed  no  matter  what  the  weather  was  I  could  keep 
my  health  safe. 

If  you  was  to  look  out  the  barroom  window  and 
see  a  sudden  change  in  the  weather  you  could  make  a 
sudden  change  and  switch  to  some  other  kind  of  drink 


60  THE  OLD  SOAK 

and  keep  yourself  protected  from  them  sudden 
changes. 

But  in  these  days  when  a  sudden  change  in  the 
weather  comes  what  protection  have  you  got  I  would 
like  to  know.  You  are  running  the  risks  of  them 
sudden  changes  all  the  time  day  and  night,  and  no 
chance  to  change  your  drink  to  meet  them  with 
for  you  are  lucky  if  you  have  one  kind  of  liquor  let 
alone  all  the  different  kinds  of  ingredients  you  used 
to  ornament  your  digestion  with. 

Nowadays  when  the  weather  ain't  just  right  I 
have  to  stay  home  in  my  own  room  up  to  the  top  of 
the  house  where  I  got  that  little  bar  rigged  up  where 
I  wait  on  myself  and  staying  to  home  all  the  time 
ain't  any  too  good  for  me. 

It  don't  give  me  a  chance  to  get  any  outdoor  exer- 
cise, staying  at  home  don't  and  a  man  needs  outdoor 
exercise  if  he  is  going  to  keep  his  health. 

That  is  another  thing  Prohibition  has  done  to  me : 
it  has  took  away  all  my  chance  for  outdoor  exercise. 

I  reckon  them  Prohibitionists  will  be  satisfied  when 
they  got  everybody's  health  broke  down  on  account 
of  them  sudden  changes  in  the  weather  and  nobody 
getting  any  outdoor  exercise  any  more. 


Chapter  Seventeen 
The  Old  Soak  Finds  a  Way 


^^ES,  sir; 
^    happy 


yes,  sir!"  said  the  Old  Soak,  with  a 
smile  on  his  face.  "I've  done  found 
out  the  way  to  beat  the  game — !  Ask  me  no  questions, 
and  I'll  tell  ye  no  hes  as  to  how  I  done  it. 

"Ye  see  this  here  bottle,  do  ye.'^  Kentucky 
Bourbon,  and  nothin'  else.  Bottled  in  bond,  an' 
there's  plenty  more  where  that  comes  from. — ^Ask 
me  no  questions,  and  I'll  enrich  ye  with  no  misin- 
formations!— Ye  see  that  there  little  car  parked  out 
there  by  the  curbstone,  do  ye.^  Well,  sir,  that  there 
car  is  my  car,  and  under  the  back  seat  of  it  is  twelve 
quarts  of  this  here  stuff! — And  it  ain't  home  brewed, 

61 


62  THE  OLD  SOAK 

neither;  it's  some  of  the  best  liquor  you  ever  thro  wed 
your  Hps  over! — How  do  I  do  it? — Don't  ply  me 
with  no  questions,  and  I  won't  bring  you  no  false 
witnesses ! 

"Notice  these  here  new  clothes  of  mine?  Well,  sir, 
that  there  suit's  a  bargain. — It  only  cost  me  two 
cases  of  rye. — I  got  three  new  suits  like  that  to  home, 
an'  I'm  figgerin'  on  buying  one  of  these  here  low  neck 
an'  short  sleeve  dress  suits  for  to  wear  to  banquets 
this  winter. — They's  a  whole  passel  o'  folks  would  like 
to  give  me  banquets  this  comin'  season. — How  do  I 
do  it.r^ — ^Ask  me  no  questions,  and  I'll  give  you  no 
back  talk! 

"If  you  was  to  come  out  to  the  house,  I'd  inter- 
duce  ye  to  quite  a  lot  of  good  liquor. — Can't  drink 
no  more,  huh? — ^Ain't  ye  got  a  friend  ye  could  bring? 
— I'd  like  to  have  ye  meet  my  son-in-law. 

"Yes,  sir;  yes,  sir!  Daughter  was  married  two 
months  ago.  The  youngest  one.  Her  and  her  hus- 
band is  makin'  their  home  with  us  temporary. — 
I'm  tryin'  to  persuade  of  'em  to  stop  to  our  house 
permanent. — Yes,  sir,  my  son-in-law,  he  is  one  of 
these  here  revenooers. — Well,  so  long! — I  gotto  see 
an  old  friend  o'  mine  that  lives  up  to  the  Bronx  this 
afternoon. — He  ain't  had  a  real  drink  fer  nigh  onto 
three  months,  he  tells  me. — I'm  headin'  a  rescue 
party  into  them  there  regions. 

"Yes,  sir;  yes,  sir!  I  ^gger  my  daughter  married 
well! — Bring  up  yer  kids  in  the  way  they  should  go 


TEE  OLD  SOAK  FINDS  A  WAY        63 

like  the  Good  Book  says,  and  Providence  will  do 
the  rest. — Henry,  that's  my  son-in-law,  is  figgerin' 
mebby  he  can  get  my  son  Jim  made  a  revenooer, 
too. — ^Ask  me  no  questions,  an  I'll  give  away  no 
fambly  secrets!" 


r-)2?  &'*^ 


Chapter  Eighteen 

The  History  Continued — the  Barroom's  Good 

Influence 

A  NOTHER  thing  I  miss  in  regard  to  all  them 
-*-  ^  vanished  barrooms  being  closed  up  is  kind 
feeling  about  respect  to  the  old  especially  to  parents 
and  them  that  has  departed. 

Where  is  the  younger  generations  of  posterity 
going  to  learn  how  to  be  kind  hearted  about  home 
and  mother  now  that  the  barrooms  is  all  closed  up 
I  would  like  to  know? 

It  used  to  be  that  a  lot  of  fellows  would  get  all 
tanked  up  of  an  afternoon  or  evening  and  in  the  right 
sort  of  a  place  they  would  get  to  singing  songs. 

All  them  songs  about  home  and  mother  and  to 
treat  her  right  now  that  her  hair  had  turned  gray.  I 
never  was  much  of  a  one  to  sing  myself  especially 
unless  I  had  a  few  drinks  into  me. 

But  whether  I  helped  sing  them  or  not  all  them 

64 


TEE  BARROOM'S  GOOD  INFLUENCE    65 

songs  would  make  a  better  man  of  me.  You  stand 
up  to  a  bar  or  sit  down  at  a  table  and  listen  to  them 
songs  for  two  or  three  hours  and  if  you  are  any  kind 
of  a  man  at  all  you  will  wish  you  had  always  done 
the  right  thing  and  now  that  all  them  songs  about 
home  and  mother  has  been  took  away  from  me  I 
ain't  the  man  I  used  to  be  at  all. 

I  feel  myself  going  down  hill  because  my  softer 
emotions  and  feelings  ain't  never  stirred  up  by  noth- 
ing any  more. 

Well,  this  Eighteenth  Commandment  is  going  to 
make  a  hard-hearted  country  out  of  this  here  coun- 
try. Nobody  is  never  going  to  think  as  much  of 
home  and  mother  as  they  used  to.  And  I  guess  them 
prohibitionists  won't  feel  so  smart  when  they  see  all 
them  old  ladies  with  gray  hair  flung  out  onto  the 
streets  in  the  rainy  weather  just  because  nobody 
would  pay  the  mortgage  off.  Lots  of  times  when 
I  was  a  young  feller  after  hearing  them  songs  for 
awhile  I  would  say  to  myself  I  w411  set  right  down  and 
write  a  letter  to  my  mother,  I  ain't  wrote  her  for 
five  or  six  months.  And  when  I  got  older  after  she 
passed  on  I  used  to  say  to  myself  some  of  these  days 
I  will  have  to  make  a  visit  to  the  old  home  place  and 
take  a  look  around  there. 

But  all  them  softer  feelings  has  been  took  away 
from  me  now  and  what  I  would  like  to  know  is  how  is 
the  younger  generation  going  to  grow  up.  Hard 
hearted,  that  is  how. 


66  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

Some  of  these  here  fine  days  I  may  be  cast  out  into 
the  street  myself  with  the  rain  drops  dripping  down 
offen  my  hat  brim  into  my  eyebrows  just  because 
nobody  won't  pay  a  mortgage  and  it  has  got  to  be  a 
hard-hearted  country. 

I  hope  none  of  them  there  smart  alick  Prohis  will 
be  flung  out  onto  the  street  thataway.  Because  they 
got  no  friends  would  pay  off  their  mortgages  and 
they  would  just  naturally  be  destituted  to  death. 
I  ain't  hard  hearted  like  they  be  and  I  hope  that 
don't  happen  to  none  of  them.  But  if  it  ever  did 
they  would  find  out  a  few  things. 

In  my  next  chapter  I  will  get  down  to  brass  tacks 
and  give  a  true  description  of  them  barrooms  that 
has  perished  off  the  face  of  the  earth. 


Chapter  Nineteen 
A  House  Divided 

npHE  Old  Soak  has  been  looking  rather  well 
-■-  for  some  time;  he  seems  prosperous  and  happy, 
for  the  most  part,  and  contented  with  the  quantity 
and  quality  of  the  hootch  he  has  been  gettin'.  But 
yesterday  he  dropped  in  to  see  us  with  just  the  slight- 
est shade  of  gloom  on  his  features.  We  asked  him 
about  it. 

"It's  that  there  son  of  mine,"  he  says.  "He's 
too  young  to  know  enough  to  let  well  enough  alone, 
like  the  Good  Book  says  to  do.  They's  a  lot  of  these 
young  fellers  you  can't  learn  nothing  to. 

"This  yere  son-in-lawr  of  mine  I  been  tellin'  you 
about,  that  is  a  revenooer,  got  my  son  made  into  a 
revenooer,  too.  And  it  ain't  long  before  my  son  gits 
jest  as  good  an  automobile  as  the  one  my  son-in- 
lawr's  been  drivin'.  And  joy  out  to  our  house  has 
been  unconcerned,  with  everyone  exceptin'  the  01' 
Woman,  and  she's  been  prayin'  agin  the  rest  of  the 
fambly. 

"But  this  yere  son  o'  mine,  he  gets  too  much 
hootch  under  his  belt  one  day,  and  he  gets  into  this 

67 


68  THE  OLD  SOAK 

yere  brand-new  automobile  of  his'n  and  he  starts 
onto  one  of  these  yere  raids.  Which  would  of  been 
all  right,  bein'  as  it's  what  a  revenooer  is  for,  if  he 
had  only  used  a  leetle  bit  o'  jedgment.  But  the 
young  has  got  a  lot  to  learn,  and  babes  and  striplings, 
the  Good  Book  says,  jest  naturally  has  their  dam  fool 
streaks. 

"This  yere  raid  my  son  goes  onto  turns  out  all 
wrong.  For  whilst  he  is  pinchin'  who  does  he  pinch 
in  the  gang  of  wicked  sinners  but  that  there  son-in- 
lawr  of  mine,  the  revenooer  as  got  him  his  job,  said 
son-in-lawr  bein'  off  duty  and  pickled  hisself  at  the 
time. 

*'So  this  here  son-in-lawr  of  mine,  he  mighty  nigh 
loses  of  his  job  as  a  revenooer,  bein'  took  up  in  one 
of  the  raids  he  was  legally  supposed  to  be  startin' 
himseK,  and  they  was  quite  a  fuss  about  it,  so  I  under- 
stand, and  the  thing  was  finally  settled  with  a  com- 
promise— it  wasn't  my  son-in-lawr  lost  his  job,  but 
they  compromised  it  and  fired  my  son  out'n  his  job. 

"But  now  my  son,  he  has  went  and  got  sore  at  my 
son-in-lawr,  and  he  says  unless  he  gits  his  job  back 
as  a  revernooer  he  will  tell  all  he  knows. 

"So  my  house  is  a  house  that  is  sided  against  itself, 
like  the  Good  Book  says,  and  every  member  of  the 
fambly  has  took  sides  one  way  or  the  other  'twixt 
my  son  and  my  son-in-lawr,  and  the  01'  Woman  is 
agin  both  on  'em,  and  agin  me,  too — a-prayin'  an' 
a-prayin'  an'  a-prayin'. 


A  HOUSE  DIVIDED  69 

***You  went  and  prayed  for  years  an'  years  so  as 
to  get  prohibish'n,'  I  tells  her;  'an'  now  you  got  it — 
you  got  more  on  it  than  any  woman  I  knows,  for  it's 
come  right  into  your  own  home.  An'  now  you  got  it 
you  ain't  satisfied  with  it — there  you  be  onto  your 
marrow  bones  prayin'  agin  the  revenooers.' 

"I  s'pose  I  was  too  hifalutin'  an'  ambitious, 
wantin'  to  keep  two  members  of  my  fambly  into  the 
revenooer  job.  And  as  long  as  my  son-in-lawr 
stays  into  office  and  continues  to  make  his  home  with 
me  I  won't  have  no  kick  comin',  but  will  take  my 
hootch  in  thankfulness  and  humility ,  like  the  Good 
Book  says  to  do,  eatin',  drinkin'  an'  bein'  merry. 
This  yere  leetle  cloud  of  gloom  what  you  notice 
is  due  to  the  01'  Woman's  prayers.  I  cain't  help 
but  feel  she  is  goin'  direct  agin  Scripter  and  her  hus- 
band's best  intrusts." 


Chapter  Twenty 

Continuing  the  History  of  the  Rum  Demon — the  Bar^ 
room  and  Manners 

A  NOTHER  thing  about  those  barrooms  that  has 
-^  ^  been  vanished  forever  is  the  fact  that  most  of 
them  was  right  pohte  sort  of  places  if  a  fellow  edged 
up  to  the  bar  and  knocked  over  your  glass  of  whiskey 
or  something  like  that  he  would  say,  O  excuse  me 
stranger  and  you  would  say  sure,  but  look  where  in 
hell  you  are  going  to  after  this. 

Sure  he  would  say  no  offence  meant.  No  offence 
taken  you  would  say  to  him.  Have  one  with  me 
he  would  say. 

No  sooner  said  than  done. 

But  nowadays  all  you  see  and  hear  is  bad  manners 
and  impoliteness  with  people  hustling  and  bumping 
into  each  other  on  the  subways  and  stepping  on 
each  other  and  women  and  children  amongst  them 
and  nobody  ever  begging  anybody's  pardon  and  hard 
feelings  everywhere. 

70 


THE  BARROOM  AND  MANNERS        71 

The  trouble  is  everybody  is  sore  and  wanting  a 
drink  all  the  time  and  there  is  no  place  where  the 
younger  generation  is  going  to  learn  good  manners 
now  that  the  barrooms  is  gone.  What  is  the  young 
fellows  just  growing  up  to  manhood  going  to  do  for 
their  manners  now  that  the  barrooms  is  closed,  is 
what  I  want  to  know. 

It  used  to  be  you  would  get  onto  a  subway  train 
and  there  would  be  two  or  three  women  standing  up 
and  you  would  be  setting  down  and  there  would  be 
three  or  four  drinks  under  your  belt  and  you  would 
be  feeling  good  and  you  would  say  to  yourseK  am  I 
a  gentleman  or  ain't  I  a  gentleman. 

You're  damned  right  I  am  a  gentleman,  you  would 
say  to  yourself,  here,  lady,  you  set  down,  and  don't 
let  any  of  these  here  bums  roust  you  out  of  that  seat. 

If  any  of  these  here  bums  tries  to  roust  you  out 
of  that  seat  I  will  put  a  tin  ear  onto  them. 

That's  the  kind  of  a  gentleman  I  am,  lady,  they 
would  have  a  hell  of  a  time,  lady,  getting  your  seat 
away  from  you  with  me  here. 

And  she  seen  you  was  a  gentleman  and  she  smiled 
at  you  and  you  hung  onto  a  strap  and  felt  good. 

But  nowadays  there  ain't  no  manners,  with  no 
place  to  get  a  drink  or  anything. 

You  are  setting  in  the  subway  and  a  lady  comes  in 
and  has  nowheres  to  set,  and  you  say  to  yourself  let 
some  of  these  other  guys  get  up  and  give  her  a  seat. 

And  you  think  a  while  and  you  say  to  yourself  I'll 


7^  THE  OLD  SOAK 

bet  she  is  a  Prohibitionist  anyhow.  Let  her  stand 
up.  She  has  got  to  learn  you  can't  have  any  man- 
ners with  the  barrooms  all  closed  and  everything. 

Well,  that's  another  thing  closing  the  barroom 
has  done.  It  has  took  away  all  the  manners  this 
town  ever  had. 

In  my  next  chapter  I  will  get  down  to  brass  tacks 
and  tell  just  what  those  barrooms  was  like  for  the 
benefit  of  future  posterity  that  has  never  seen  one. 


Chapter  Twenty-One 
Sympathy  Wanted 

\7^ES,"  said  the  Old  Soak,  "I  get  plenty  of  hootch 
-*-  nowadays.  My  son  is  back  into  the  revenoo 
business,  and  my  son-in-lawr  is  with  it,  too.  I  gets 
plenty  of  whiskey.  I've  got  some  into  me,  and  IVe 
got  some  onto  my  hip,  and  I  know  where  I'm  going 
to  get  some  more  when  that's  gone." 

And  he  sighed. 

"Why  so  gloomy,  then.^^"  we  asked.  "You 
should  be  radiating  a  Falstaffian  joviality.  You 
should  be  as  merry  as  the  merry,  merry  villagers  in 
an  opera  on  the  Duke's  birthday.  But  on  the  con- 
trary, you  shake  from  out  your  condor  wings  unutter- 
able wo,  as  E.  A.  Poe  has  it.     Wherefore.'^" 

"I  miss,"  he  said,  "the  next  mornin'  sympathy 
.  .  .  the  next  mornin'  ministration.  Any  one 
can  get  drunk  under  the  auspices  of  Prohibition, 
but  it  takes  the  right  kind  of  barkeep  fur  to  get  you 
sober  agin  and  make  you  like  it. 

"Where  is  the  next  morning  barkeep .^^  He  ain't. 
He  was  wise  as  a  serpent  and  gentle  as  a  dove  like 
the  Good  Book  says.     He  knowed  right  off  what 

73 


74  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

ailed  you,  at  11  o'clock  on  a  cloudy  morning,  and 
what  was  good  for  it.  A  little  of  this,  out  of  the 
long  green  bottle,  and  a  little  of  that,  and  some  ice 
tinklin'  in  it,  and  the  white  of  an  egg  mebby,  and  .  .  . 
oh,  you  know!  One  of  them,  and  there  was  salve 
onto  the  sore  spot  of  your  soul.  Two  of  them  and 
you  began  to  forgive  yourself.  Three  of  them,  and 
you  could  hear  about  breakfast;  you  could  look  an 
egg  into  the  eye. 

"And  he  never  asked  no  question  about  your  past, 
that  barkeep  didn't.  He  didn't  need  to.  He 
knowed.  He  seen  last  night's  history  in  this  morn- 
ing's footnote.  He  was  kind.  'Feel  a  little  better 
now,  sir  ? '  he'd  ask.  '  Two  or  three  of  them  is  enough, 
sir,  if  you  ask  me.  Get  your  breakfast,  now,  sir, 
and  you'll  be  quite  O.  K.  Yes,  sir,  I  learned  to  mix 
them  in  New  Orleans  .  .  .'  You  talked  to  him, 
and  he  let  you.  He  was  like  a  mother's  knee  to  a 
three-year-old  that's  bumped  his  head,  the  old- 
fashioned  barkeep  was. 

"But  now,  he  ain't.  Now,  when  you  get  up. 
Gloom  stands  on  one  side  of  you  and  Conscience  on 
the  other,  and  Remorse  is  feeding  lines  of  both  of  'em. 

"'Well,'  says  Gloom,  'this  is  a  fine,  cheerful  morn- 
ing, this  is!  This  is  about  as  full  of  sunshine  as  the 
insides  of  the  whale  that  drank  Jonah.' 

"*It  is,'  says  Remorse,  'and  then  some.  Con- 
science and  me  feels  so  bad  about  it  that  we're  gonna 
jump  off  the  dock  together.' 


SYMPATHY  WANTED  75 

"*I  ain't,  neither,'  says  Conscience.  *I'm  gonna 
save  myself  for  the  worst.  The  worst  is  yet  to  come. 
And  I  want  to  be  here  when  it  comes.' 

"*I  ain't  gonna  be  here  when  it  comes,'  says 
Gloom.  *I'm  going  over  to  the  Aquarium  and  rent 
myself  out  for  a  fish.' 

**Just  then,"  went  on  the  Old  Soak,  "a  strange  party 
sticks  his  head  in  at  the  door  and  says,  'Never  again!' 

"*Who  be  you?'  says  Gloom.  *I'm  Repentance,' 
says  the  buttinski,  *and  I  calls  on  you  guys  to  mend 
your  ways!' 

"And  Gloom,  he  looks  at  the  hard  liquor  left  in 
the  bottom  of  the  bottle,  and  at  the  sky,  and  at  the 
door  of  the  closed-up  barroom  across  the  street,  and 
he  says,  *It  can't  be  done  without  some  uplift.  I 
need  soothing  words,  and  an  educated  hand.' 

"'We  got  what's  coming  to  us,'  says  Remorse. 
*And  there's  more  of  it  coming,'  says  Conscience. 
'Better  quit!'  says  Repentance.  'I  ain't  gonna 
quit,'  says  Gloom,  'without  the  right  kind  of  a  drink 
to  quit  on.  I  ain't  never  yet  quit  without  the  right 
kind  of  a  drink  to  quit  on,  and  I'm  not  going  to  start 
any  innovations  on  a  rotten  day  like  this.' 

"Well,"  went  on  the  Old  Soak,  "you  sits  on  the 
edge  of  your  bed  and  you  listen  to  these  yere  guys 
talking,  and  you  think  how  right  all  of  them  is,  and 
you  wonder  whether  it's  any  use  getting  up,  and  you 
think  of  all  the  barkeeps  you  used  to  know,  and  after 
a  while  you  suck  an  orange  and  think  of  one  of  them 


76  '  THE  OLD  SOAK 

long  silver  fizzes  with  frost  on  the  glass  and  charity 
and  loving-kindness  in  its  heart,  like  Ed  used  to  shake 
up, — you  think  of  it  so  hard  you  well-nigh  taste  it, 
and  then  the  meerage  fades  away  and  you  ain't 
nothin'  but  a  camel  in  the  desert  again  with  a  hump- 
backed taste  in  your  mouth. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  Old  Soak,  "I  can  get  all  the 
booze  I  want,  but  I  can't  get  sympathy.  What  a 
man  needs  in  the  morning  is  a  kind  heart  for  to  com- 
fort him,  and  a  strong  arm  to  lean  on.  Anybody 
can  give  me  good  advice,  but  it  don't  soothe  me  any; 
what  I  want  is  a  quick  friend  in  a  white  apron,  wise 
as  a  bishop  and  gentle  as  a  nurse. 

"What  I  want  is  the  Al's  and  Ed's  I  used  to  know. 
But  they've  went.  Forever.  I  won't  meet  'em  in 
Hell,  because  they're  too  kind  hearted  to  go  there, 
and  I  won't  meet  'em  in  Heaven,  because  I  won't 
go  there  myself. 

"I  reckon,"  concluded  the  Old  Soak,  "I'll  have  to 
go  to  England." 


Chapter  Twenty-Two 

The  History  of  the  Rum  Demon  Concluded — Prohibi- 
tion Is  Making  a  Free  Thinker  of  the  Old  Soak 

A  NOTHER  thing  that  going  without  barrooms 
"^  ^  is  doing  for  this  country  is  it  is  destroying 
Home  Life. 

It  is  pretty  hard  to  get  along  with  your  wife  after 
you  have  been  married  to  her  for  twenty  or  thirty 
years  and  kind  of  settle  down  and  realize  you  are 
going  to  be  married  to  her  as  long  as  she  lives  for 
better  or  for  worse  unless  something  happens  which 
it  seldom  does. 

Not  that  you  don't  kind  of  like  her  and  you  know 
she  kind  of  likes  you  but  the  thing  is  that  her  and  you 
is  apt  to  treat  each  other  mean  now  and  then  because 

77 


78  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

you  get  to  thinking  what  a  good  time  you  could 
have  if  you  didn't  have  to  turn  in  so  much  of  your 
money  to  making  a  home  run  smooth  and  you  know 
even  if  you  do  row  with  each  other  you  will  make 
up  again  and  you  get  to  kind  of  looking  forward 
to  the  rows  because  anyhow  that  is  a  change. 

But  sometimes  you  carry  them  rows  too  far  and 
then  you  don't  know  how  to  get  your  Home  Life 
running  right  again  because  she  is  always  too  stub- 
born to  give  in  and  you  won't  be  the  first  one  to  give 
in  because  you  know  she  is  wrong. 

But  when  there  was  liquor  to  be  had  in  plenty 
it  was  easier  to  make  up  after  one  of  them  rows  and 
Home  Life  went  along  smoother. 

You  would  get  up  in  the  morning  and  she  would 
say  to  you,  would  you  have  a  boiled  egg  for  break- 
fast or  a  fried,  and  you  would  say  hades  what  an 
idea.  Can't  you  never  think  of  anything  but  eggs 
for  breakfast.  And  she  would  say  yesterday  I 
didn't  have  eggs  and  you  was  sore  because  you 
wanted  eggs.  You  would  say  just  because  I  wanted 
eggs  yesterday  is  that  any  sign  I  want  them  every 
day  of  my  life  till  death  do  us  part.  I  was  only  ask- 
ing what  you  wanted  she  would  say. 

I  will  go  where  I  can  get  what  I  want,  you  would 
say.  I  will  eat  my  breakfast  at  a  restaurant  this 
morning  and  maybe  I  can  keep  them  from  shoving 
eggs  in  front  of  me  when  I  don't  ask  for  eggs.  The 
trouble  with  your  stomach  is  not  what  you  put  into 


TEE  HISTORY  CONCLUDED  79 

it  in  the  morning,  she  would  say,  but  what  you  put 
into  it  the  night  before.  The  trouble  with  my 
stomach,  you  would  say,  is  that  I  am  worried  to 
death  and  worked  to  death  all  the  time  trying  to 
keep  this  house  running  and  it  gives  me  the  dis- 
pepsy.  It  is  the  liquor  gives  you  dispepsy  she  would 
say. 

If  it  wasn't  for  a  little  stimulant  in  my  stomach, 
like  the  Good  Book  says,  you  tell  her,  my  dispepsy 
wouldn't  let  me  digest  anything  at  all  and  I  would 
starve  to  death  and  the  mortgage  on  the  house  would 
be  foreclosed  and  you  would  go  to  the  old  woman's 
home.  Wliose  money  pays  the  interest  on  that  mort- 
gage she  would  say.  Whose?  you  would  say.  Mine, 
she  would  say.  You  wouldn't  have  any  money  you 
tell  her,  if  you  paid  me  back  what  your  relations  has 
borrowed  of  me. 

Well,  one  word  leads  to  another,  and  you  go  oflF 
without  any  breakfast,  for  you  see  her  taking  the 
Bible  down  to  set  and  read  it,  and  when  she  sets 
and  reads  the  Bible  you  know  she  is  reading  it  against 
you  and  it  gets  you  madder  and  madder. 

And  in  the  old  days  when  there  was  barrooms  you 
would  go  into  one  still  feeling  mad  and  say  Ed,  mix 
me  one  of  the  old-fashioned  whiskey  cocktails  and 
don't  put  too  much  orange  and  that  kind  of  damned 
garbage  into  it,  I  want  the  kick. 

No  sooner  said  than  done. 

And  after  a  couple  of  them  you  would  say,  well 


80  THE  OLD  SOAK 

after  all,  the  Old  Woman  means  well,  I  wonder  if  I 
didn't  treat  her  a  little  mean  this  morning  I  orter 
call  her  up  on  the  telephone  and  give  her  a  jolly. 

And  then  you  would  think  of  her  relations  that 
you  hate  and  get  mad  at  her  again  on  account  of 
always  sticking  up  for  them,  and  say,  Ed,  that  don't 
set  so  well,  let's  try  a  whiskey  sour. 

And  you  would  meet  a  friend  and  have  another 
with  him,  and  pretty  soon  eat  some  breakfast  and 
think  how,  after  all,  it  was  eggs  you  was  eating 
for  breakfast  and  they  wasn't  cooked  no  ways  as 
good  as  the  old  woman  would  of  poached  them 
for  you  on  toast  if  you  hadn't  been  so  darned  mean 
to  her. 

And  your  friend  would  say  his  old  woman  blowed 
him  up  for  coming  home  piclded. 

And  you  would  have  another  drink  and  say  that 
was  one  thing  your  old  woman  never  done  to  you. 
My  old  woman  has  got  some  sense,  you  would  say 
to  him,  she  knows  how  a  man  feels  about  taking  a 
drink,  and  she  never  blows  me  up. 

And  you  would  set  and  brag  about  your  old  woman 
and  you  had  never  had  a  cross  word  between  you 
in  thirty  years.  And  then  he  would  begin  to  brag 
about  his  old  woman,  too. 

And  pretty  soon  you  would  say  to  yourself  you 
better  go  to  the  phone  and  call  her  up.  She  has  her 
mean  streaks  all  right,  but  who  knows,  she  may 
have  been  right  this  morning  after  all,   and  you 


TEE  HISTORY  CONCLUDED  81 

take  another  drink  and  get  her  on  the  telephone,  and 
give  her  a  chance  to  say  how  sorry  she  was  about 
the  way  she  treated  you  that  morning  and  maybe 
you  go  and  pay  an  installment  on  a  new  carpet 
sweeper  for  her. 

Well,  it  was  that  way  in  the  old  days.  Liquor 
kept  your  Home  Life  running  along  o.  k.  You 
would  get  mad  with  your  wife  and  then  you  would 
get  sorry  for  her  and  give  her  an  excuse  to  make 
up  with  you  again. 

But  now,  with  no  chance  to  get  a  drink  when  I  am 
away  from  home  if  I  treat  the  Old  Woman  mean  in 
the  morning  I  don't  give  her  a  chance  to  get  on  my 
good  side  again.  And  I  can  see  sometimes  that  it  is 
breaking  her  heart. 

That's  what  prohibition  is  doing  to  this  country. 
It  is  breaking  the  women's  hearts  and  it  is  breaking 
up  the  Home  Life  on  every  hand. 

What  is  going  to  become  of  a  country  where  all 
the  Home  Life  is  broke  up.'^ 

And  what  is  going  to  become  of  the  children  if 
there  ain't  any  Home  Life  running  along  smooth 
any  more.'^ 

These  Prohibitionists  that  is  so  darned  smart 
never  thought  of  that  I  guess  when  they  put  that 
Eighteenth  Commandment  across  onto  us. 

Whenever  I  think  of  all  them  women's  hearts  that 
is  breaking  and  all  that  Home  Life  that  is  going 
plumb  to  the  dogs  all  on  account  of  the  barrooms 


82  TEE  OLD  SOAK 

being  closed  up  it  well-nigh  makes  a  free  thinker 
out  of  me. 

I  don't  claim  to  be  a  church  man,  but  I  never  was 
a  free  thinker  before,  neither.  But  all  the  sorrow 
that  is  going  on  in  the  world  on  account  of  them 
barrooms  being  closed  is  making  a  free  thinker  of  me. 


HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 


yy^ 


A  LAST  DRINK 

To  George  McDaniel 

Hail!         Barleycorn     .      .      .     they       said       you 

weren't  Nice ! 
Salve!    You  bum,  and  Vale!    Hail!     Farewell! 
Your  feet,  the  Prohis  say,  go  down  to  Hell; 
You  led  men  into  Poker,  Fights  and  Dice, 
You  filled  the  world  with  Murder,  Lust  and  Lice, 
You  made  a  Bar  Fly  of  the  Howling  Swell, 
You  bought  the  blood  that  deep-dyed  bandits  sell — 
You  might  lead  one  in  time,  I  fear,  to  Vice ! 

85 


86  BAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

Old  blear-eyed  mutt,  beloved  and  accurst! 
Before  you  go,  a  song  for  old  sake's  sake; 
A  song  memorial  to  the  days  and  nights 
When  I  companioned  with  the  Dipsas  Snake 
And  bared  my  throat  unto  his  febrous  bites, 
Quenching  a  thirst  to  gain  a  greater  thirst. 


n 

IN  THE  OLD  DAYS 

To  Paul  Thompson 

Liquor  there  is,  but,  oh !  the  Bar  is  gone ! 

The  long  Brass  Rail  above  the  Sawdust  Floor, 

The  gay  Hot  Dog,  the  gleaming  Cuspidore, 

The  bright,  brave  Nose  that  brave,  bright  lights 

shone  on, 
The  jocund  Barkeep,  Ed  or  Al  or  John, 
The  ribald  jest  I  loved,  the  answering  roar 
That  jangled  the  glasses,  shook  the  swinging  door — 
Liquor  there  is,  but  these  delights  are  done ! 

In  the  old  days  when  bubbles  winked  at  me. 

In  the  glad  days  when  I  was  steeped  in  Rum, 

I  played  the  Prospero  to  fantasy, 

I  drank,  and  bade  my  Ariel  fancies  come     . 

But  I  have  lost  my  ancient  wizardry 

And  mine  old  self,  my  lyric  self,  is  dumb. 


87 


Ill 

A  DIPSEY  CHANTEY 

To  Ned  Leamy 

Ho!    Heave  the  anchor!    Heave!    Fetch  her  up! 

Twist!  with  the  corJcscrews!   Steward,  lend  a  hand! 
Let  her  prance  out  to  sea  liJce  a  frolic-footed  pup. 

For  the  ship  is  full  of  liquor,  and  to  hell  with  the  land! 

Ghosts  from  the  ocean  abysses,  clambering,  clamour- 
ing, come; 

CHmb  to  our  decks  and  roar:  "Broach  us  a  puncheon 
of  rum! 

We  are  scaly  with  salt  and  sand;  we've  had  nothing 
but  water  to  swallow — 

Stave  in  a  hogshead  of  rum!  Let  us  roll  in  the 
scuppers  and  wallow!" 

88 


A  DIPSEY  CHANTEY  89 

Heh!  Splice  the  main-brace!  Ho!  She  smells  the 
gale! 

The  skipper  walks  the  bridge  with  a  bottle  to  his  eye; 
She  rollicks  with  her  boilers  full  of  good  Bass  Ale — 

By  the  timber  peg  of  Silver,  the  sea  shall  not  go  dry  I 

We  have  raxed  'em  out  of  the  deep,  they  follow 

through  shine  and  fog. 
Phantoms  of  ancient  mariners,  lured  by  the  reek 

of  our  grog; 
Noah  and  Hawkins  and  Kidd,  up  from  the  green 

abysses, 
And  there,  in  a  wine-stained  galley,  the  ghost  of 

great  Ulysses! 
Eric  the  Red  in  a  whale-boat,  and  with  him,  cheek 

by  jowl. 
Silver  begging  a  drain,  God  bless  his  wicked  soul! 

Ho!    How  she  snorts!    Hey!    Hear  her  snore! 
The  wind  slaps  her  nostrils,  she  hiccoughs  for  her 
breath  ! 
Steward,  a  corkscrew!     You  poor  fish  ashore. 

By  the  bones  of  Reuben  Ranzo,  you  can  choke  to 
death  ! 

With  eyes  of  the  darting  witch-fire,  like  mist  the 

poor  ghosts  come. 
And  an  anguished  wind  from  the  mist  bellows  and 

whines  for  Rum — 


90  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

They  have  been  thirsty  so  long!    Let  us  be  good 

fellows  still, 
And  open  a  hundred  casks  and  let  'em  wallow  and 

swill ! 

Quick !    With  a  corkscrew!    Oh,  damn  the  wheel! 

The  captain's  in  his  bunk,  with  a  bottle  to  his  eye! 
The  engineer  is  stoking  with  Scotch  and  lemon  peel! 

By  Davy  Jones's  locker,  the  sea  shall  not  go  dry! 


IV 
A  CERTAIN  CLUB 

To  Winfield  Moody 

Ah,  dead  and  done!     Forever  dead  and  done 
The  mellow  dusks,  the  friendly  dusks  and  dim, 
When  Charley  shook  the  cocktails  up,  or  Tim — 
Gone  are  ten  thousand  gleaming  moments,  gone 
Like  fireflies  twinkling  toward  oblivion ! 
Ah,  how  the  bubbles  used  to  leap  and  swim. 
Breaking  in  laughter  round  the  goblet's  brim, 
WTien  Walter  pulled  a  cork  for  us,  or  John  ! 

I  have  seen  ghosts  of  men  I  never  knew, — 
Great,  gracious  souls,  the  golden  hearts  of  earth — 
Look  from  the  shadows  in  those  rooms  we  love, 
Living  a  wistful  instant  in  our  mirth; 
I  have  seen  Jefferson  smile  down  at  Drew, 
And  Booth  pause,  musing,  on  the  stair  above. 


91 


A  TEMPERANCE  TRACT 

To  Bob  Dean 

Cocktails  are  the  little  brooms 

That  whiskey  way  your  will-power! 

A  dark  disease  is  B right's  disease. 
And  will  not  yield  to  pill-power. 

Some  may  upon  red  rums  descant 
Who  never  did  decant  rums. 

But  I  have  eaten  bitter  bread 

Where  bitters  breed  their  tantrums. 

The  fool  will  give  his  life  to  booze, 
The  wiser  man  taboos  that, 

And  I'm  a  sad  Budweiser  man 
Than  when  I  used  to  ooze  that. 

I  owned  a  bank,  and  for  a  fad 

I  cultivated  two  lips; 
If  I  had  owned  the  mint  itself 

'Twould  all  have  gone  for  juleps. 

92 


A  TEMPERANCE  TRACT  93 

Mumm's  extra  dry  makes  some  men  grow 

As  dry  as  any  mummy, 
But  when  I'm  tight  I  loosen  up — 

A  punch,  and  I  am  chummy. 

Except  when  I  swore  off  in  Lent 

With  borrowers  I  mingled; 
They'd  make  my  pockets  cease  to  clink 

Whenever  I  was  jingled. 

But  though  I  drank  with  scarce  a  check 

My  drafts  saved  people  trouble, 
For  I  would  often  pay  dubs  twice 

Because  I  saw  'em  double. 

0,  cognac  is  a  fearful  drink 

To  brandy  man  with  shame,  0! 
He  will,  that  drinks  diluted  gin. 

Die  looted  of  good  name,  01 

I  wined  till  I  began  to  ail. 

And  then  I  whined  with  aleing, 
Until  to  crown  the  woes  I  cite 

I  found  my  eyesight  failing. 

*Sir,  fits  will  come,"  my  doctor  warned, 
"Surfeits  will  bloat  the  mind,  sir!" 

I  laughed  and  took  my  glasses  off 
And  said,  "I'll  go  it  blind,  sir!" 


94  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

Champagnes  and  real  incider  me 

Set  my  high  spirits  flagon; 
Still  with  gay  dogs  I  played  the  wag. 

Deriding  of  the  wagon. 

My  tongue  was  like  a  cotton  bale, 
All  whitish  from  the  gin,  sir — 

The  doctor  said  "No  tongue  can  state 
The  state  your  tongue  is  in,  sir!" 

"With  so  much  rye  and  corn  you  cope, 
Your  crowd  are  cornucopers — 

How  can  earth  be  Utopia 

When  peopled  by  you  topers?" 

But  still  I  dodged  from  fete  to  fete, 
Still  followed  by  my  fate,  O! 

Still  floating  loans  and  liquids  till 
My  bank  did  liquidate,  O ! 

Buns  use  up  dough;  what  my  fun  did. 

Were  it  refunded  one  day. 
Would  fund  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland 

And  float  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 

DonH  hitch  your  wagon  to  a  star 

Upon  the  brandy  bottle; 
If  you  your  neck  to  nectar  ope 

Your  hope  'twill  surely  throttle. 


VI 
A  VISION  IN  THE  NIGHT 

To  Grant  Rice 

Beyond  Arcturus,  in  a  peevish  wind, 

I  met  a  rumpled  devil  beating  home     . 

"And   whence,   poor   Fiend,"   I   challenged,   "hast 

thou  come 
With  ragged  plumage  ravelled  out  behind 
And  splintered  teeth  and  lamps  all  blear  and  blind? 
What  Fate  hath  bent  a  skillet  o'er  thy  dome?" 
He  sighed,  and  in  that  sigh  I  read  a  tome 
Of  bleeding  sorrows  and  an  aching  mind. 

"Rough  Stuff,"  he  moaned,  "was  what  I  got  for 

mine! 
It  was  fierce  Virtue  put  me  on  the  bum, 
Trampled  my  slats  and  wronged  my  winsome  face — 
Once  I  was  loved  and  called  the  Angel  Wine! 
Kicked  hell  ward  now,  and  hurtling  out  through  space, 
I  am  known  only  as  the  Demon  Rum!" 


95 


VII 
THE  LAST  CASE  OF  GIN 

To  Loren  Palmer 

The  Tullywub  is  singing  by  the  Willywinkle's  grotto 
His  passionate  devotion,  though  he  knows  he  hadn't 

ought  to. 
And  she  wipes  away  a  teardrop  with  a  Httle  furtive 

fin; 
She  is  fluttered,  but  she's  frightened  by  his  outburst 

of  emotion 
In  their  somewhat  formal  corner  of  a  rather  proper 

ocean — 
And  I  can  understand  'em,  for  I've  got  a  crate  of  gin. 

Interpretative  theses  on  the  psychochemic  state 
Induced  in  the  batrachia  by  fear  or  love  or  hate 
I  find  are  rather  easy  since  I've  opened  up  the  crate. 
And  I'm  gonna  be  a  scientist  by  morning. 

A  Willywinkle's  seldom  a  sprightly  thing  or  elfish. 
But  morally  she's  rigid  as  the  most  exclusive  shell- 
fish; 

96 


TEE  LAST  CASE  OF  GIN  97 

She  cans  her  rash  admirer,  but  she  cans  him  with  a 

sigh! 
An  analytic  novel  might  be  reared  upon  the  basis 
Of  a  very  earnest  study  of  the   looks  upon  their 

faces 

And  their  brave  renunciation  when  they  sobbed  and 
said  good-by. 

I  claim  that  the  transmission  of  their  fortitude  and 

pain 
To   succeeding  generations  will  improve  the  moral 

strain 
Of  the  species  here  considered  and  their  loss  result 

in  gain; 
And  I  wish  I  had  some  Angostura  Bitters! 

I  have  a   strong  impression  of  the  immanence  of 
morals 

In  this  quite  extensive  cosmos,  from  castor  beans 

to  corals, 
And  Science  and  Religion,  I  will  tell  the  world,  are 

one; 
I  should  prove  it,  gentle  reader,  had  we  leisure  time 

before  us, 
I  should  prove  it  or  expire  in  the  act  of  hurling 

Taurus — 
I  wonder  where  the  dickens  has  that  silly  corkscrew 

gone? 


98  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

I  find,  as  I  grow  older,  the  pert  Subliminal 
Keeps  butting  in  to  chatter  with  egoistic  gall: 
Romance  I  meditated;  this  isn't  that  at  all — 
But  anyhow  I  have  some  limes  and  siphons! 


VIII 
CROWNED  SINGERS 

To  Charley  Bayne 

Liquor   there   is     .      .      .     but   we   knew   happier 

days! 
When  jug  by  jowl  in  many  a  tavern  booth 
We  sat  and  ghmpsed  the  world's  ulterior  truth. 
And  followed  life  through  all  its  secret  ways — 
What  light  flashed  up  on  us  in  golden  rays 
Out  of  the  booze,  to  blend  with  fire  of  youth ! 
Crowned  singers,  we!  although,  forsooth. 
The  Dipsas  Snake  still  rustled  in  our  bays. 

Hail,  Rum!     Sweet  Demon  of  my  wastrel  years! 
Farewell,  old  mellow  Angel,  ripe  with  Vice ! 
Dreamers  and  singers,  cronies,  let  us  drink 
A  stirrup-cup  of  laughter  and  of  tears! 
Omar  and  Falstaff,  both  are  on  the  blink — 
The  Bitter  People  say  they  are  not  Nice ! 


99 


IX 
DOWN   IN   A   WINE   VAULT 

To  Harold  Gould 

Down  in  a  wine  vault  underneath  the  city 

Two  old  men  were  sitting;  they  were  drinking 
booze. 

Torn  were  their  garments,  hair  and  beards  were  gritty; 
One  had  an  overcoat  but  hardly  any  shoes. 

Overhead  the  street  cars  through  the  streets  were 
running 

Filled  with  happy  people  going  home  to  Christmas; 
In  the  Adirondacks  the  hunters  all  were  gunning, 

Big  ships  were  sailing  down  by  the  Isthmus. 

In  came  a  Little  Tot  for  to  kiss  her  granny. 
Such  a  little  totty  she  could  scarcely  tottle, 

Saying,  "Kiss  me.  Grandpa!  Kiss  your  little  Nanny ! " 
But  the  old  man  beaned  her  with  a  whiskey  bottle! 

100 


DOWN  IN  A  WINE  VAULT  101 

Outside  the  snowflakes  began  for  to  flutter, 

Far  at  sea  the  ships  were  saihng  with  the  seamen. 

Not  another  word  did  Angel  Nanny  utter. 

Her  grandsire  chuckled  and  pledged  the  Whiskey 
Demon ! 


Up  spake  the  second  man;  he  was  worn  and  weary, 
Tears  washed  his  face,  which  otherwise  was  pasty; 

"She  loved  her  parents,  who  commuted  on  the  Erie; 
Brother,  I'm  afraid  you  struck  a  trifle  hasty! 

*'She  came  to  see  you,  all  her  pretty  duds  on. 
Bringing    Christmas    posies    from    her    mother's 
garden. 

Riding  in  the  tunnel  underneath  the  Hudson; 

Brother,  was  it  Rum  caused  your  heart  to  harden?" 

Up  spake  the  first  man,  "Here  I  sits  a  thinking 
How  the  country's  drifting  to  a  sad  condition; 

Here  I  sits  a  dreaming,  here  I  sits  a  drinking, 
Here  I  sits  a  dreading,  dreading  prohibition, 

"When    in    comes    Nanny,    my     little    daughter's 
daughter; 

Me  she  has  been  begging  ever  since  October 
For  to  sign  the  pledge !     It's  ended  now  in  slaughter — 

I  never  had  the  courage  when  she  caught  me  sober ! 


102  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

"All  around  the  world  little  tots  are  begging 
Grandpas  and  daddies  for  to  quit  their  lushing. 

Reformers  eggs  'em  on.     I  am  tired  of  egging! 
Tired  of  being  cowed,  cowering  and  blushing! 

"I  struck  for  freedom!     I'm  a  man  of  mettle! 

Though  I  never  would  'a'  done  it  had  I  not  been 
drinking — 
From  Athabasca  south  to  Popocatapetl 

We  must  strike  for  freedom,  quit  our  shrinking!" 

Said  the  second  old  man,  "  I  beg  your  pardon ! 

Brother,  please  forgive  me,  my  words  were  hasty! 
I  get  your  viewpoint,  our  hearts  must  harden! 

Try  this  ale,  it  is  bitter,  brown  and  tasty." 

Said  the  first  old  man,  "Hear  me  sobbing. 

"Poor  little  Nanny,  she's  gone  to  Himmel. 
Principle  must  conquer,  though  hearts  be  throbbing! 

Just  curl  your  lip  around  this  kimmel!" 

Down  in  a  wine  vault  underneath  the  city 
They  sat  drinking  while  the  snow  was  falling, 

Wicked  old  men  with  scarcely  any  pity — 
The  moral  of  my  tale  is  quite  appalling! 


X 

ANACREON 

To  Ned  Ranck 

In  the  sunless  land  where  thou  art  gone. 

The  shadowy  realm  of  Proserpine, 
Hast  wine  to  drink,  Anacreon? 

Still  hast  thy  lute  its  laughing  tone. 
Still  do  thy  nymphs  the  ivy  twine, 
In  the  sunless  land  where  thou  art  gone? 

A  Bacchus  on  a  reeling  throne, 

Thy  temples  bound  with  trailing  vine. 
Hast  wine  to  drink,  Anacreon? 

From  cool  deep  caves  of  delved  stone, 

Do  slaves  still  fetch  thee  Samian  wine. 
In  the  sunless  land  where  thou  art  gone? 

Or  is  a  cup's  mere  semblance  shown, 

Then  snatched  from  those  parch'd  lips  of  thine ?- 
Hast  wine  to  drink,  Anacreon? 

103 


104  BAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

Like  Tantalus  dost  thou  make  moan, 
Plagued  by  a  mockery  malign? 

In  the  sunless  land  where  thou  art  gone. 
Hast  wine  to  drink,  Anacreon? 


XI 

THERE  WERE  GIANTS  IN  THE  OLD  DAYS 

To  George  Van  Slyke 

Gog  was  a  giant, 
Likewise  so  was  Magog; — 
Gog  says,  "It's  Christmas, 
Please  pass  the  Egg-nog!" 
Gurgle !     Gurgle !     Gurgle ! 
Glug !     Glug !     Glug ! 
Gog  says  to  Magog, 
"It  is  full  of  Nutmeg,— 
Guzzle!     Guzzle!     Guzzle! 
Glog!     Glog!     Glog!" 
Magog  says  to  Gog, 
"Have  some  Haig  and  Haig!  " 
Gargle !     Gargle !     Gargle ! 
Grog !     Grog !     Grog ! ' ' 
Gog  says  to  Magog, 
"Your  eyes  are  all  a-goggle! 
You  are  all  agog!" 
Magog  says  to  Gog,  * 

"Your  feet  wiggle-woggle, 
105 


106  BAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

You're  gigglish  as  a  gargoyle 
And  logey  as  a  log!" 
Gog  says  to  Magog, 
"I'm  as  gleg  as  a  grig! 
Gurgle!    Gurgle!     Gurgle! 
Glug!    Glug!    Glug!" 
Magog  says  to  Gog, 
"I'm  jolly  as  a  polly — 
Wiggle — waggle — wog 
That's  turning  to  a  froggle, 
A  friggle — fraggle — frog! 
Guggle !     Guggle !     Guggle ! 
Glog!    Glog!    Glog!" 
And  Gog  filled  his  noggin. 
And  Magog  his  mug, — 
Magog  was  a  giant. 
Likewise  so  was  Gog; 
On  New  Year's  morning 
Both  were  on  their  legs. 
And  sat  down  to  breakfast 
And  ordered  ham  and  eggs ! 


XII 

IN  AN  OLD-TIME  TAVERN  BOOTH 

To  Ben  De  Casseres 

Drinking,  I  doze,  and  see  the  gods  go  by; 
They  wave  to  me  the  hand  of  comradeship, 
For  I  am  one  with  them,  and  at  my  lip 
The  cup  of  wisdom  bubbles     ...     up  the  sky 
A  blur  of  moondust  drifts  to  dull  mine  eye, 
But  through  the  veil  my  romping  visions  slip 
To  dance  among  the  careless  stars,  outstrip 
The  racing  planets  where  they  swoop  and  fly. 

And  then     .      .      .     from  somewhere  east  of  Mars 

a  keen 
Thin  wind  whines  for  a  Dime;  I  drop  one  in 
A  sad  Salvation  Army  tambourine 
And  hear  a  weary  homily  on  Sin     . 
"Sister,"  I  say,  "you're  right,  and  yet  the  Truth 
Sometimes  sits  near  me  in  this  tavern  booth." 


107 


XIII 
THE  OLD  BRASS  RAILING 

To  Charley  StiU 

Our  minds  are  schooled  to  grief  and  dearth, 

Our  Hps,  too,  are  aware. 
But  our  feet  still  seek  a  railing 

When  a  railing  isn't  there. 

I  went  into  a  druggist's  shop 
To  get  some  stamps  and  soap, — 

My  feet  rose  up  in  spite  of  me 
And  pawed  the  air  with  hope. 

I  know  that  neither  East  nor  West, 

And  neither  North  nor  South, 
Shall  rise  a  cloud  of  joy  to  shed 

Its  dampness  on  my  drouth, — 

I  know  that  neither  here  nor  there, 

When  winds  blow  to  and  fro. 
Shall  any  friendly  odours  find 

The  nose  they  used  to  know, — 

108 


TEE  OLD  BRASS  RAILING  109 

No  stein  shall  greet  my  straining  eyes, 

No  matter  how  they  blink, 
Mine  ears  shall  never  hear  again 

The  highball  glasses  clink, — 

There  is  not  anywhere  a  jug 

To  cuddle  with  my  wrist, — 
But  my  habituated  foot 

Remains  an  optimist! 

It  lifts  itself,  it  curls  itself. 

It  feels  the  empty  air, 
It  seeks  a  long  brass  railing. 

And  the  railing  isn't  there! 

I  do  not  seek  for  sympathy 

For  stomach  nor  for  throat, 
I  never  liked  my  liver  much — 

'T  is  such  a  sulky  goat ! — 

I  do  not  seek  your  pity  for 

My  writhen  tongue  and  wried, 
I  do  not  ask  your  tears  because 

My  lips  are  shrunk  and  dried, — 

But,  oh!  my  foot!    My  cheated  foot! 

My  foot  that  lives  in  hope! 
It  is  a  piteous  sight  to  see 

It  lift  itself  and  grope! 


110  BAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

I  look  at  it,  I  talk  to  it, 

I  lesson  it  and  plead, 
But  with  a  humble  cheerfulness. 

That  makes  my  heart  to  bleed, 

It  lifts  itself,  it  curls  itself, 

It  searches  through  the  air. 
It  seeks  a  long  brass  railing. 

And  the  railing  isn't  there! 

I  carried  it  to  church  one  day — 

O  foot  so  fond  and  frail! 
I  had  to  drag  it  forth  in  haste: 

It  grabbed  the  chancel  rail. 

My  heart  is  all  resigned  and  calm, 

So,  likewise,  is  my  soul. 
But  my  habituated  foot 

Is  quite  beyond  control ! 

An  escalator  on  the  Ell 

Began  its  upward  trip. 
My  foot  reached  up  and  clutched  the  rail 

And  crushed  it  in  its  grip. 

It  grabs  the  headboard  of  my  bed 
With  such  determined  clasp 

That  I'm  compelled  to  scald  the  thing 
To  make  it  loose  its  grasp. 


THE  OLD  BRASS  RAILING  111 

Sometimes  it  leaps  to  clutch  the  curb 

When  I  walk  down  the  street — 
Oh,  how  I  suffer  for  the  hope 

That  lives  within  my  feet! 

Myself,  I  can  endure  the  drouth 

With  stoic  calm,  and  prayer — 
But  my  feet  still  seek  a  railing 

When  a  railing  isn't  there. 


•'^ 


XIV 

ONCE    YOUTH    WAS    MINE 

To  Frank  Stanton 

Once  the  wild  raptures  and  the  beating  wings  ] 

Of  Song  were  mine,  the  sun,  the  cHmbing  flight; 
The  wind's  great  fellowship  upon  the  height.     .    .    . 
Once  Youth  was  mine,  and  the  young  heart  that 

sings ! 
But  now  the  little  things,  the  trivial  things. 
Beat  down  my  spirit  with  their  leagued  might  .    .    . 
Could  I,  within  some  friendly  Dive  to-night. 
Meet  the  Old  Gang,   'twould  make  me  young,  by 

jings! 

As  the  mad  lark  rises,  drunk  with  joy  and  sun. 

When  morning  bends  above  the  dewy  meadow, 

And  his  clear  call  proclaims:  "The  day  is  won!" 

Over  a  hurried  rout  of  driven  shadow. 

So  should  I  rise  and  sing,  had  I  a  Bun. 

O  would  that  we  were  soused  together,  Kiddo! 


n2 


XV 

IN   A   TAVERN   BOOTH 

To  Bob  LiUard 

Out  of  my  forehead  now  the  long  thoughts  reach 

In  level  rays  that  melt  the  Pleiades, 

Which,     melting,     somehow     smell     like     toasted 

cheese     . 
I  know  Life's  secret  now,  but  have  no  speech " 
To  utter  it:  indeed,  small  wish  to  teach 
My  truths  to  trivial  planets  such  as  these 
Whereon  the  populations  drone  like  bees 
That  have  no  honey -gift,  each  stinging  each     . 

And  yet  I  will  speak,  too !     .      .      .     the  slow  words 

come 
With  pain  out  of  my  deeps  of  ecstasy, 
Burst  from  my  soul  as  from  a  beaten  drum 
In  a  hoarse  pulse  of  sound     .     .      .     But  hark  to 

me! 
"Life's  secret  is  that  all  things  cool  somewhat 
Like  golden  bucks"     .      .      .      but,  somehow,  that 

seems  rot. 


113 


XVI 
AN  ENGAGEMENT 

To  Kit  Morley 

There  is  a  place,  not  far  from  Gissing  Street, 

In  Paradise,  where  one  can  dream  and  laugh     .     .     . 

You  go  through  Shelley  Lane,  striking  your  staff 

Upon  the  cobbles,  turn  with  eager  feet 

Down  Benet  Place,  and  there  you  are!     I'll  meet 

You,  Christopher,  and  we  shall  quarrel  and  quaff 

Our  pewter  tankards  full  of  Shandygaff, 

And  eat  and  eat  and  eat  and  eat  and  eat! 

And  must  we  die  first?    Well,  it's  worth  the  trouble! 

I  shall  go  first,  because  I'm  old  and  gray, 

And  permanently  I'll  reserve  a  booth — 

And  when  you  come,  no  doubt  I'll  see  you  double. 

And  as  you  land  from  Charon's  skiff  I'll  say: 

*'Here,  kid,  taste  this!    Roll  this  upon  your  tooth!" 


114 


XVTI 
THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  KEYHOLES 

To  Jimmy  Farnsworth 

The  keyholes  to  the  right  of  me 

Were  dancing  of  a  jig, 
The  keyholes  to  the  left  of  me 

Were  merry  as  a  grig, 
The  ke^^holes  right  before  my  face 

Were  drunk  and  winked  at  me. 
And  I  stood  there  alone — alone! — 

With  one 

small 

key. 

They  frightened  me,  they  daunted  me; 

I  turned  back  to  the  stair. 
And  faced  nine  keyholes  pale  and  stern 

That  lay  in  ambush  there. 
Six  keyholes  on  the  ceiling  sat. 

Eight  keyholes  on  the  door, 
And  seven  saddened  keyholes  lay 

Hiccoughing 

on  the 

floor. 

115 


116  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

I  crawled  through  one,  I  crawled  through  two, 

I  crawled  through  keyholes  three — 
And  then  I  saw  a  vistaed  mile 

Of  keyholes  waiting  me! — 
"I  will  not  crawl  another  yard 

Through  keyholes,  though  I  die!" — 
Oh,  when  my  fighting  blood  is  up 

A  Turk 

am 
I! 


They  leapt  at  me,  they  flew  at  me. 

They  whistled  as  they  came, 
They  gritted  of  their  gleaming  teeth, 

They  stung  and  spurted  flame; 
I  put  my  back  against  the  floor 

And  fought  'em  gallantly — 
But  what  could  anybody  do 

\^'ith  one 

small 

key? 


Keyholes  at  the  front  of  me, 
And  keyholes  on  the  flank, 

And  as  they  rushed  at  me  I  smelled 
The  liquor  that  they  drank; 

Keyholes  on  my  spinal  cord, 


THE  BATTLE  OF  TEE  KEYHOLES    117 

And  keyholes  in  my  hair — 
And  with  a  "Heave  together,  boys!" 
They  rolled 

me  down 

the  stair. 

It  bumped  me  some,  it  bent  me  some. 

It  broke  a  nose  or  two, 
And  when  the  milkman  came,  he  said: 

"What  Kaiser  Belgimned  you?" 
I  says  to  him:  "It  might  have  been 

The  same  with  you  as  me 
If  you  like  me  had  had  to  fight 
A  gang  of  keyholes  all  last  night 

With  one 

small 

key!" 


XVIII 
IN    A    TAVERN    BOOTH 

To  Sam  McCoy 

I  thought  a  Sun  pursued;  through  endless  space 
I  fled  the  following  thunder  of  his  feet; 
Snorting  he  came,  his  breath  a  withering  heat. 
Blown  soot  of  cindered  comets  freakt  his  face; 
My  hide  caught  fire  and  crackled  with  the  pace, 
My  burning  heart  with  jets  of  anguish  beat; 
Flaming  I  leapt,  in  flame  leapt  on  the  fleet 
And  savage  star    .     .     .    We  slashed  our  fiery  trace 

Ten  constellations  broad  in  screaming  red 
Across  the  startled  purple  of  the  night; 
A  word  tremendous  clove  mine  ears  and  head, 
A  great  arm  fell  and  stripped  my  wings  of  flight: 
"Hey,  Mister,  pay  your  check!"  a  brute  voice  said. 
It  was  a  red-haired  barkeep  known  as  Ed. 


118 


XIX 
YEARNINGS     AND     MEMORIES 

To  Jimmy  Fisher 

Liquor  there  is — but  how  I  miss  the  Bar! 

I  miss  a  certain  attitude  of  mind, 

Congenial,  which  I  seek  but  never  find 

Except  beneath  the  golden  triple  star 

Which  from  the  brandy  bottle  shines  afar. 

I  miss  a  type  of  jest  that  was  designed 

For    roaring    barrooms    warmed    with    booze,    and 

kind — 
Good  Gawd!  how  coarse  and  low  my  real  tastes  are. 

I  miss  an  ambling,  splay-foot  waiter's  beak, 

Which  like  some  red  peninsula  of  hell 

Glowed    through   the   humming   barroom's    smoky 

reek — 
I  miss  the  lies  I  used  to  hear  men  tell 
Over  the  telephone  to  waiting  wives — 
What  sweet  aromas  had  these  joyous  lives! 


119 


XX 

DO     YOU     REMEMBER? 

To  Harry  Dixey 

Do  you  remember  that  first  Morning  Drink 
When  Ed  would  smile  and  say,  "What  shall  it  be?  " 
"Would  you  advise  a  Gin  Fizz,  Ed,  for  me?" 
"It  is  too  early  for  a  Fizz,  I  think." 
"And  would  an  Absinthe  put  me  on  the  bhnk, 
I  wonder,  Ed?" — "Absinthe  would  not  agree 
This  morning,  sir." — "Then  what's  your  recipe?" 
"A  bland  Club  Cocktail,  delicate  and  pink!" 

O  kindly  Barkeeps  that  have  raised  me  up 
From  morning  glooms  and  made  me  live  again. 
Where  are  ye  now,  and  where  your  wizardry? 
As  dead  as  great  Ulysses'  faithful  pup! 
As  dead  as  Babylon  and  James  G.  Blaine! 
As  dead  as  Gyp  the  Blood  and  Nineveh! 


120 


XXI 
AND  YOU  MAY  RECALL  THIS 

To  Charley  Edson 

— "I  wanchya  meeta  'noF  'noV  frierC  o'  mine!" 
— *'  Umgladdameecha !    BilVs  frien's  my  frien's,  too ! " 
— "Thish  frien'  hesh  frien'!     I  gotto  open  wine!" 
— "You  gotto  le'  me  buy  thish  drink  f'r  you!" 
—"I  gotto  buy  thish  drink  f'r  'nol'  'noV  frien' T' 
— "Now,  lishen,  Jim!     You  gonna  love  thish  lad!" 
— "Billsh  friensh  is  my  friensh  to  th'  bitter  en'/" 
— "Now,  lishen,  Jim!  thish  besh  frien'  ever  had!" 

Honest,  hardworking  drunkards!     Hour  by  hour 

They  toiled  on  at  their  chosen  task  until 

They  bent  beneath  the  burdens  that  they  bore, 

They  bent  and  swayed,  sustained  but  by  the  power. 

Each  one,  of  his  Indomitable  Will, 

Which  ever  bade  him  conquer  Just  One  More. 


121 


XXII 

TRUE,    BUT   WHAT   OF   IT? 

To  Gilbert  Gabriel 

Old  Demon  Rum,  they  say  you  ruined  homes. 
Bashing  the  piteous  Wife  betwixt  her  eyes. 
Stabbing  Aunt  Tildy  with  her  own  hair-combs. 
And  teaching  your  young  offspring  stealth  and  lies 
Angel!  they  say  that  one  night,  lost  to  grace. 
You  filched  the  infant's  coral  from  her  crib. 
Hocked  it,  and  blew  the  loot  at  Leery's  Place — 
Then  strangled  Baby  Sister  in  her  bib 
Because  it  purchased  only  sixteen  beers! 
Demon!  they  say  you  used  to  cut  up  rough. 
Sowing  the  earth  with  poverty  and  tears — 
And  I  believe  it  readily  enough ! 
I  do  admit  your  crimes  as  charged  above. 
But,  Angel!  crime  can  never  kill  my  love! 


122 


XXIII 
A    SUMMER    DAY    DREAM 

To  Foster  Follett 

If  there  were  many  miles  of  me 

How  I  would  love  to  trail 
My  length  along  the  cooling  sea 

Above  the  brown  sea  kale. 

Were  there  five  thousand  feet  of  me 

Instead  of  ^ve  feet  four, 
A  thousand  times  as  cool  I'd  be 

Swimming  from  shore  to  shore. 

And  when  I  saw  a  brewery 

Upon  some  cape  or  isle 
I'd  crawl  out  of  the  dripping  sea 

And  greet  it  with  a  smile. 

Then  all  my  lovely  coils  I'd  wrap 

Around  that  brewery, 
And  when  I'd  squeezed  out  every  drap 

Slide  back  into  the  sea. 


123 


XXIV 
ON  SWEARING  OFF  AGAIN 

To  Dan  Carey 

Barleycorn,  my  jo  John ! 

They  say  that  we  must  part! 
'Twill  mend  my  stomach,  maybe, 

But,  O!  it  breaks  my  heart! 

I  hoped  that  we  should  grow  old 

Cheek  by  jowl  together. 
Boozing  by  the  fireside 

Through  the  wintry  weather; — 

With  white  hair  and  red  face. 
Full  of  dreams  and  liquor, 

Watching  from  an  armchair 
The  firelight  flicker; — 
124 


ON  SWEARING  OFF  AGAIN  125 

But  Barleycorn,  my  jo  John, 

Fare  ye  well  forever ! — 
The  preachers  have  my  soul,  John, 

The  doctors  have  my  liver! 

And  I  shall  have  an  old  age 

Dry  and  dull  as  virtue — 
But  never  think,  my  dear  friend, 

I'm  happy  to  desert  you ! 

Barleycorn,  my  jo  John! 

To  think  that  we  should  part — 
They  say  'twill  save  my  eyesight, 

But,  O;  it  breaks  my  heart! 


XXV 
AFTER  SEVERAL  HIGHBALLS 

To  Clive  Weed    / 

I  saw  three  roses  on  the  wall, 
Three  red,  red  roses  on  the  wall. 

Repeated  in  a  pattern : 
The  first,  I  Cleopatra  call, 
The  second  one's  named  Sadie  Hall, 

The  third  one  is  a  slattern. 
Three  flowers,  all  curlycues  and  swirls. 

Each  blare-mouthed  like  a  trumpet; 
One  used  to  fish  for  swine  with  pearls. 
The  second  was  the  best  of  girls. 

The  third  one  was  a  strumpet. 
Three  red-mouthed  roses  on  the  wall 

As  bright  and  hot  as  blood; 
The  first  one  caused  an  empire  fall. 
The  second  was  just  Sadie  Hall, 

The  third  died  in  the  mud. 


126 


XXVI 

CHANT  ROYAL  OF  THE  DEJECTED 
DIPSOMANIAC 

To  Hal  Steed 

Some  fools  keep  ringing  the  dumb  waiter  bell 

Just  as  I  finish  killing  Uncle  Ned; 

I  wonder  if  they  could  have  heard  him  yell? 

A  moment  since  I  cursed  at  them  and  said: 

"This  is  a  pretty  time  to  bring  the  ice!" 

— Old  Uncle  Ned !     Two  times  of  late,  or  thrice, 

I've  thought  of  prodding  him  with  something  keen. 

But  always  Fate  has  seemed  to  intervene; 

Last  night,  for  instance,  I  was  in  the  mood. 

But  I  was  far  too  drunken  yestere'en 

My  way  of  life  can  end  in  nothing  good! 

At  Mrs.  Dumple's,  last  week,  when  I  fell 

And  spoiled  her  dinner  party  I  was  led 

Out  to  a  cab;  they  saw  I  was  not  well 

And  took  me  home  and  tucked  me  into  bed. 

I  should  quit  mingling  hashish  with  my  rice! 

I  should  give  over  singing  "Three  Blind  Mice" 

127 


128  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

At  funerals!     Why  will  I  make  a  scene? 
Why  should  I  feed  my  cousins  Paris  Green? 
I  am  increasingly  misunderstood: 
W^hen  I  am  tactless,  people  think  'tis  spleen. 
My  way  of  life  can  end  in  nothing  good. 

Why  should  one  cry  that  he  is  William  Tell, 

Then  flip  a  pippin  from  his  hostess'  head 

That  none  but  he  can  see?     Why  should  one  dwell 

Upon  the  failings  of  the  newly  wed 

At  wedding  breakfasts?     Can  I  not  be  Nice? 

I  am  so  silly  and  so  full  of  vice! 

Such  prestidigitator  tricks,  I  ween. 

As  finding  false  teeth  in  a  soup  tureen 

Are  not  real  humour;  they  are  crass  and  crude. 

And  cast  suspicion  on  the  host's  cuisine: 

My  way  of  life  can  end  in  nothing  good. 

My  wife  and  her  best  friend,  a  social  swell. 
Zoo-ward  I  lured  to  see  the  cobras  fed; — 
"We  can't  get  home,"  I  giggled,  "for  the  El 
Is  broken,  Sarah — let's  elope,  instead!" 
I  spoke  of  all  she'd  have  to  sacrifice. 
And  she  seemed  yielding  to  me,  once  or  twice. 
Until  my  wife  broke  in  and  said:  "Eugene, 
Your  finger  nails  are  seldom  really  clean; — 
I'd  loose  poor  Sarah's  hand,  Eugene,  I  would!" 
How  weak  and  stupid  I  have  always  been! 
My  way  of  life  can  end  in  nothing  good. 


THE  DEJECTED  DIPSOMANIAC      129 

I  drink  and  doze  and  wake  and  think  of  hell, 

My  eyes  are  blear  from  all  the  tears  I  shed : 

I'm  pitiably  bald:  I'm  but  a  shell! 

I  sobbed  to-day,  "I  wish  that  I  were  dead!" 

I  wish  I  could  quit  drugs  and  drink  and  dice. 

I  wish  I  had  not  talked  of  chicken  lice 

The  Sunday  that  we  entertained  the  Dean, 

Nor  shouted  to  his  wife  that  paraffin 

Would  make  her  thin  beard  grow,  nor  played  the 

food 
Was  pennies  and  her  face  a  slot  machine: 
My  way  of  life  can  end  in  nothing  good, 

— That  bell  again:  A  voice:  "Is  your  name  Bryce? 
These  goods  is  C.  O.  D.     Send  down  the  price!" 
"Bryce  hves,"  I  yell,  "at  Number  Seventeen!" 
Bryce  doesn't  live  there,  but  I  feel  so  mean 
I  laugh  and  lie;  my  tone  is  harsh  and  rude. 
— Uncle  is  gone!     I'm  phthisical  and  lean — 
My  way  of  life  can  end  in  nothing  good! 


XXVII 
PROVERBS  XXIII,  29 

To  Oliver  Herford 

From  many  a  classic  scroll  and  tome 

In  golden  texts  the  warnings  shine: 
"If  you  must  drink,  get  soused  at  home! 

Will  you  get  pickled?     Then  use  brine! 

Each  generation  gets  a  sign, 
But  each  one  needs  another  prod 

From  scriptures  human  or  divine — 
The  Wastrel  always  drops  his  Wad! 


Sleek  Athens  from  the  Attic  loam 

With  ill  intention  coaxed  the  vine — 
Arcadian  Simps  admired  the  foam 
While  hair-oiled  City  Gents  malign 
Dropped  philters  in  the  neatherd's  stein- 
Soon  Corydon  upon  the  sod 

Lay  coinless  with  a  cloven  chine — 
The  Wastrel  always  drops  his  Wad! 

130 


J5 


PROVERBS  XXIII,  29  131 

When  Gallic  ginks  Cook-toured  to  Rome, 
Or  roaring  Teutons  from  the  Rhine, 

The  thought  would  fill  some  yokel's  dome 
To  dally  with  the  stranger's  wine — 
Next  reel :  tough  students  sprain  his  spine 

And  bean  him  with  a  curule  rod 
And  roll  him  down  the  Palatine: 

The  Wastrel  always  drops  his  Wad! 

Raus!    Bacchus,  with  that  breath  of  thine. 

And  sad  eyes  like  a  bilious  cod! 
Me  for  the  Tracts — I've  learned,  in  fine, 

The  Wastrel  always  drops  his  Wad! 


XXVIII 
AN   OBJECT   LESSON 

To  Bobby  Rogers 

A  young  man  in  a  Mu-se-um 

Was  showing  me  a  mummy 
Who  lay  there  patiently,  but  glum, 

A-clasping  of  his  tummy 
Cophetua  or  Kafoozelum, 

Or  some  such  regal  rummy. 

"In  youth,"  says  I,  "this  king  was  gay. 

In  spite  of  Mrs.  Grundy; 
He  burnt  the  Nile  one  Saturday     . 

132 


AN  OBJECT  LESSON  133 


But  where  was  he  on  Sunday? 
I  added,  in  my  learned  way, 
"*Sic  transit  gloria  mundi!' 


>j 


cc 


He  conquered  princes  not  a  few; 

They  voted  as  he  bid  'em     .     .     . 
From  Babylon  to  Timbuctoo, 

From  Sheba  up  to  Siddim, 
He  thought  of  things  he  shouldn't  do. 

And  then  he  went  and  did  'em! 

"He  loved  to  send  out  royal  bids 

For  high  Egyptian  jinkses 
Where  pretty  Theban  katydids 

And  little  Memphian  minxes 
Would  trot  among  the  pyramids 

And  tango  round  the  sphinxes     .     . 

'*But  now,  in  his  sarcophagus. 
How  quite  deceased  we  find  him. 

With  sand  in  his  aesophagus 
And  all  his  past  behind  him, 

While  Time  (the  anthropophagus !) 
Is  whetting  teeth  to  grind  him. 

"Then  note,  my  lad,  the  end  of  kings! 

Therefore,  avoid  ambition. 
For  earthly  greatness  all  has  wings     . 


134  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

You  stick  to  your  position. 
And  if  men  come  with  crowns  and  things 
To  tempt  you,  go  a-fishin'!" 

"Was  I  a  Kingly  Souse,"  says  he. 
Impressed  from  A  to  Izzard, 

"Would  I  wind  up  so  leathery 
As  this  departed  wizard, 

With  baldness  on  the  dome  of  me. 
And  gravel  in  my  gizzard?" 


"You  would  without  a  doubt,"  says  I, 
"Lose  wealth  and  health  and  hair,  O! 

Shaken  with  sobs  he  made  reply, 
"I  promise,  and  I  swear,  O! 

That  I  will  never  drink! — and  try 
And  never  be  a  Pharaoh!" 


»> 


XXIX 
A  KANSAS  TRAGEDY 

To  Charley  Stansbury 

I  started  from  Missouri, 

The  western  part  of  Missouri, 

To  ride  to  Nicodemus, 

To  Nicodemus,  Kansas, 

In  the  western  part  of  Kansas; 

Not  far  from  Happy,  Kansas, 

In  Graham  County,  Kansas     . 

Across  the  State  of  Kansas  I  started  in  a  flivver  .  .  . 

A  jolty  Httle  flivver  with  a  rhythm  rather  jerky  .  .  . 

Irregularly  rhythmical,  when  rhythmical  at  all  .  .  . 

I  had  to  get  to  Nicodemus 

By  noon  on  Saturday  to  pay  the  mortgage 

On  a  farm  near  Nicodemus, 

Graham  County,  Kansas, 

Belonging  to  a  sweetheart  who  would  otherwise  be 

rooned 
Financially  and  so  could  not  afford  to  marry  me.  .  .  . 
As  I  entered  into  Kansas, 
And  crossed  Miami  County, 
At  the  town  of  Ossawatomie 

135 


136  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

I  received  a  telegraphic  message 

From  my  love  at  Nicodemus     .     .     . 

"Hasten   with   the   money,"   said   the   telegraphic 

message, 
"Hasten  with  the  money  you  are  bringing  from  my 

Uncle. 
From  my  Uncle  Jethro,  in  Missouri, 
For  the  man  that  holds  the  mortgage, 
Banker    Jasper    Grinder,    who    holds    the    fiendish 

mortgage. 
Has  said  he  will  foreclose  it 

And  take  away  the  homestead  at  noon  on  Saturday, 
Or  else  I'll  have  to  marry  him, 
To  keep  him  from  foreclosing. 
Marry  Banker  Jasper  Grinder  to  keep  him  from 

foreclosing     .     .     . 
I  would  hate  to  marry  Grinder, 
But,  on  the  other  hand, 

I  would  hate  to  lose  the  whole  alfalfa  crop     .     .     . 
Hasten  with  the  money. 
From  my  Uncle  Jethro, 

Hasten  to  your  true  love,  Miss  Elvira  Simpkins, 
At  Nicodemus,  Kansas." 
Three  hundred  miles  away 
Was  Nicodemus,  Kansas, 
Nicodemus,  Graham  County, 
Not  so  far  from  Happy,  Kansas     .     .     , 
Could  I  do  it  in  a  flivver 
In  ten  hours  .^^     .     .     . 


^'    '<  ^^^SSfti^fc 


A  KANSAS  TRAGEDY  137 

From  Ossawatomie  I  started  with  a  burst  of  speed. 

That  carried  me  to  Quenemo, 

To  Quenemo,  in  Osage  County,  Kansas, 

At  the  rate  of  forty  miles  an  hour     . 

At  a  garage  in  Quenemo 

I  paused  for  gasolene. 

At  Quenemo,  in  Osage  County,  Kansas     . 

But  the  man  that  ran  the  place 

With  shrill  bucolic  snicker 

Said:  "There  ain't  no  gasolene! 

The  gasolene  in  Kansas 

Has  all  been  took  and  contrabanded, 

Leastways,  commandeered, 

Just  one  hour  ago, 

By  order  of  the  Governor, 

The  Governor  of  Kansas, 

On  account  of  military  operations"     . 

No  gasolene  in  Kansas! 

And  three  hundred  miles  away  my  love. 

My  love,  Elvira  Simpkins, 

Was  waiting  for  the  money  I  had  got  from  Uncle 

Jethro 
To  save  the  home  at  Nicodemus 
From  the  clutch  of  Jasper  Grinder! 
"I  will  telegraph  the  money!"  I  shouted 
With  a  flash  of  inspiration     . 
But  the  station  agent  told  me, 
"There  ain't  no  telegraph  nor  nothing 
Runs  into  Nicodemus, 


138  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

To  Nicodemus,  Kansas.     .     .     . 

As  fur  as  I  can  see  in  this  here  book!" 

And  I  looked  at  the  wire  from  Elvira  again 

And  saw  it  had  been  sent  from  Happy,  Kansas, 

And  all  the  time  the  precious 

Minutes  fluttered  by     .      .      . 

Banker  Jasper  Grinder,  in  Nicodemus,  Kansas, 

Minute  after  minute, 

Was  approaching  nearer  to  the  hour  of  his  desire  .  .  . 

I  could  hear  him  chuckle. 

The  dry  and  throaty  chuckle  that  village  bankers 

chuckle 
In  the  semi-arid  regions     . 
Another  inspiration  came  to  me  and  I  cried; 
"I  will  run  my  flivver 
To  Nicodemus,  Kansas, 
On  alcohol,  by  heck! 

I  can  make  the  engine  in  my  little  flivver 
Run  to  Nicodemus,  Kansas, 
On  alcohol,  by  Henry!" 
But  the  crowd  that  gathered  around  me  ' 
La£Ped  and  laffed  and  laffed     . 
*'They  ain't  no  alcohol  in  Kansas," 
Said  the  crowd,  between  its  chortles — 
"Kansas  is  a  dry  State, 
It's  prohibition  Kansas, 
And  you'll  never  get  to  Nicodemus 
Graham  County,  Kansas," 
Just  then  the  village  toper 


A  KANSAS  TRAGEDY  139 

A  gentle  creature  and  decayed 

Thrust  into  my  hand  a  gallon 

Of  Stutter's  Stomach  Bitters, 

He  handed  me  four  big  quarts 

Of  Stutter's  Stomach  Bitters, 

And  I  poured  'em  in  the  tank  and  left  the  town  of 

Quenemo,  with  the  engine  doing  lovely 
And  the  flivver  going  strong     . 
And  I  reached  the  town  of  Skiddy, 
The  town   of  Skiddy,  Kansas,  in  Morris   County, 

Kansas, 
And  I  drew  up  by  the  drug  store  and  I  yelled 
For  Stutter's  Stomach  Bitters     ... 
"I    must    reach    Elvira    Simpkins,    in    Nicodemus, 

Kansas, 
'Ere  the  clock  strikes  12     . 
Give  me  Bitters,  give  me  Bitters ! 
Fill  the  tank  with  Bitters,  for  I  race  to  raise  the 

mortgage     . 
But  the  druggist  said:  "There's  been  a  run  on  Bitters! 
Considerable  colic  in  this  watermelon  weather! — 
How  about  Stewroona?" 

On  a  gallon  of  Stewroona  I  ran  from  Skiddy,  Kansas, 
As  far  as  Elmo,  Kansas, 
And  there  I  laid  in  nineteen  quarts 
Of  prohibition  appetizer  called 
Doctor  Bunkus's  Discovery  for  Kidneys     . 
Westward,  ever  westward. 
To  my  love,  Elvira  Simpkins 


140  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL 

At  Nicodemus,  Kansas, 

I  ran  on  Doctor  Bunkus,  through  the  dryest  belt  of 
Kansas, 

Through  the  prohibition  centre. 

Dear  Old  Doctor  Bunkus  urged  my  little  flivver; 

From  Elmo,  to  Palacky, 

Six  quarts  of  Lily  Gingham's  Discovery 

And  a  dozen  more  of  Bunkus 

Took  me  nearer,  nearer,  nearer, 

To  my  love,  Elvira  Simpkins     . 

From  Palacky  west  to  Pfeifer, 

Through  the  town  of  Fingal, 

Then  northward  to  Ogallah, 

I  ran  on  Si  wash  Injun  Soorah, 

A  Remedy  for  Liver  Trouble, 

Take  a  wineglass  full  before  each  meal. 

Nearer,  ever  nearer,  to  my  love  at  Nicodemus  .    .    . 

From  Ogallah  north  to  Happy, 

North  to  Happy,  Kansas,  in  Graham  County, 
Kansas, 

North  and  west  to  Happy,  word  of  glorious  omen  .  .  . 

And  the  villagers  came  down  to  sniff  the  glad  aroma 

Of  the  flying  flivver 

As  I  turned  north  to  Nicodemus     . 

At  thirteen  minutes  until  noon. 

Filled  once  more  with  Stutter's  Stomach  Bitters 

I  raced  into  the  presence  of  my  love,  Elvira  Simp- 
kins     . 

Alas !    Alas !    Alas ! 


A  KANSAS  TRAGEDY  141 

Elvira    did   not    clasp    me   in    her    sturdy    Kansas 

arms     .     .     . 
She  sniffed  the  air  and  said: 
**I  never  will  be  wedded 
To  a  man  who  reeks  with  liquor! 
Give  me  Uncle  Jethro's  money ! 
And  don't  you  leave  that  drunken  flivver  on  the 

streets  of  Nicodemus     .     .     ." 
And  she  went  and  married  Jasper  Grinder  after  all. 


THE   END 


THE  COUNTRY  UFE  PRESS, 
GARDEN  CITY,  N.  Y. 


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