BACCHUS OUTWITTED; OR, THE TRIUMPH OF SOBRIETY.
(Fragment from a Romance founded upon evidence given before the Select Committee upon Dram-drinking.)
"I really think the experiment should be made," said the Professor. "Our knowledge on the subject is so imperfect, that nothing definite can be accurately pronounced."
"True enough," replied one of his friends; "but although the end to be attained is excellent, may not the means be termed by the scrupulous 'questionable?'"
"By the over-scrupulous, perhaps," returned the Professor, with a smile.
"And the expense," observed a second of his intimates, "will be no small consideration. If we put the matter to a thorough test, a large quantity—a very large quantity of the necessary liquid will have to be purchased and disposed of. Am I not right in hazarding this supposition?"
"Undoubtedly," responded the Professor, "and the cost will be enhanced by the fact that the necessary liquids will have to be of the best possible quality. As Dr. PAVEY observed before the Committee 'It is not the alcohol in itself that is injurious, but the by-products.' Our aim must be to eliminate the by-products."
"I think the idea first-rate," said the third friend; and then he paused and added, seemingly as an after-thought, "Pass the bottle."
So the Professor and his three companions decided to make the investigation in the cause of scientific research. It was resolved that after a week they should meet again, and that in the meanwhile they should in their own persons carry on the experiment continuously. When this had been arranged the friends parted company.
At the appointed time the contemplated gathering became a concrete fact. The Professor's friends were the first to appear at the rendezvous. They were unsteady as to their gait, their neckties were in disorder and their hair falling carelessly over their eyes, added a fresh impediment to an eyesight that seemingly was temporarily defective. They sank into three chairs regarding one another with a smile that gradually resolved itself into a frown. Then they filled up the pause caused by the non-appearance of the Professor by weeping silently. Their emotion was not of long duration, as the originator of the experiment was soon in their midst. He seemed to be in excellent health and spirits.
"My dear friend," he said, and it was noticeable that he was prone to clip his words, and to use the singular, in lieu of the plural, when the latter would have been more conventional, "My dear friend, glad see you all. Hope you well."
His comrades received the well-meant greeting with a resentful frown, which ended in further weeping.
"This very painful," continued the Professor, resting his hand somewhat heavily on the back of a chair; "very painful indeed! Fact is, you been taking wrong things!"
His friends sorrowfully shook their heads negatively.
"Yes you have! Sure of it! You, Sir—imbibed whiskey! No harm in good whiskey—excellent thing, good whiskey! But injuriverius—should say, injurious—if has too much flavour of malt! Your whiskey too much flavour of malt! You took brandy—bad brandy—too much taste of grapes! You took rum—bad rum—too much mo—mo—molasses! Now I took all three—whiskey, brandy, rum, but pure—no by-products. No, not at all. Result! See! Sober as judge!"
And, succumbing to a sudden desire for slumber, the Professor, at this point of his discourse, joined his friends under the table!
CYCLING NOTES.
He. "DO YOU BELONG TO THE PSYCHICAL SOCIETY?"
She. "NO; BUT I SOMETIMES GO OUT ON MY BROTHER'S MACHINE!"
LEAVES FROM A CANDIDATE'S DIARY.
March 20. "George Hotel," Billsbury.—Arrived here yesterday afternoon. Mother made up her mind to come with me, being very anxious, she said, to hear one of my splendid speeches. She brought luggage enough to last for a week, and insisted on taking her poodle Carlo, who was an awful nuisance, in the train. He growled horribly at old TOLLAND and BLISSOP when they came to see me at the Hotel before dinner. Very awkward. TOLLAND wanted to put before me the state of the case with regard to registration expenses. The upshot was that the Candidate is expected to subscribe £80 a year to the Association for this purpose, which I eventually agreed to do. Found fourteen letters waiting for me. No. 1 was from Miss POSER, the Secretary of the Billsbury Women's Suffrage League, asking me to receive a small deputation on the question, and to lay my views before them. No. 2 from the Anti-Vaccination League, stating that a deputation had been appointed to meet me, in order to learn my views, and requesting me to fix a date. No. 3 and No. 4, from two local lodges of Oddfellows, each declaring it to be of the highest importance that I should become an Oddfellow and proposing dates for my initiation. Nos. 5, 6 and 7 were from Secretaries of funds for the restoration or building of Churches and Chapels, appealing for subscriptions. Nos. 8, 9, and 10, from three more local Cricket Clubs, who have elected me an Honorary Member, and want subscriptions. No. 11 from a Children's Meat Tea Fund. No. 12 asked me to subscribe to a Bazaar, and to attend its opening in June. No. 13, from the local Fire Brigade, and No. 14 from the Secretary of the Local Society for improving the Breed of Bullfinches, recommending this "national object" to my favourable notice. Shall have to keep a Secretary, likewise a book of accounts. Where is it all going to end?
The Mass Meeting went off well enough. The Assembly Rooms were crammed. (The Meteor says, with its usual accuracy and good taste, "The attendance was small, the proceedings were dull. A wonderful amount of stale Jingoism was afterwards swept up by the caretakers from the floor. Our Conservative friends are so wasteful.") I was adopted as Candidate almost unanimously, only ten hands being held up against me. One or two questions were asked—one about local option, which rather stumped me—but I managed to express great sympathy with the Temperance party without, I hope, offending publicans.
Carlo somehow or other got out of the hotel and followed us to the meeting without being noticed. Poodles are all as cunning as Old Nick. He lay quite low in some corner or other, until Colonel CHORKLE was in the middle of a tremendous appeal to "the stainless banner which 'as so often been borne to triumph by Billsbury's embattled chivalry." The Colonel thumped on the table very hard, and Carlo, I suppose, had his eye on him and thought he was going to thump me. At any rate he sprang out and dashed at the Colonel, barking furiously. I had to seize him and take him outside. The Colonel turned quite pale. The Meteor says: "The war-like ardour which burns in the breast of Colonel CHORKLE was well-nigh extinguished by an intelligent dog, whose interruptions provoked immense applause." I had to apologise profusely to the Colonel afterwards. Mrs. CHORKLE looked daggers at me. Mother was delighted with the meeting. She has written about it to Aunt AMELIA.