As they
parted, my worst fears were confirmed, for I saw the Colonel progress
flourishingly to the corner and turn in under the sign, "Barney Skeyhan;
Choice Wines, Liquors, and Cigars."
"What did he say?" I asked of Eustace as he came up.
"It was exceedingly distasteful, Major." Eustace was not a little
perturbed by the encounter. "He read every word of that disgusting
article in the _Argus_ and then he begged me to go into that Skeyhan's
drinking-place with him and have a glass of liquor. I said very sharply,
'Colonel Potts, I have never known the taste of liquor in my whole life
nor used tobacco in any form.' At that he looked at me in the utmost
astonishment and said: 'Bless my soul! _Really?_ Young man, don't you
put it off another day--life is awful uncertain.' 'Why, Colonel,' I
said, '_that_ isn't any way to talk,' but he simply tore down the
street, saying that I was taking great chances."
"And now he is reading his piece to Barney Skeyhan!" I groaned.
"Rum is the scourge of our American civilization," remarked Eustace,
warmly.
"Barney Skeyhan's rum would scourge anybody's civilization," I said.
"Of course I meant _all_ civilization," suggested Eustace, in polite
help to my lame understanding.
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