DIALOGUE I.
AT THE DISTILLERY.—FIRST INTERVIEW.
Distiller. Good morning, Mr. Conscience; though I know you to be one of the earliest risers, especially of late, I hardly expected to meet you here at day-dawn.
Conscience. I am none too early, it seems, to find you at your vocation. But how are you going to dispose of this great black building?
Distiller. Why, I do not understand you.
Conscience. What are you doing with these boiling craters, and that hideous worm there?
Distiller. Pray explain yourself.
Conscience. Whose grain is that? and what is bread called in the Bible?
Distiller. More enigmatical still.
Conscience. To what market do you mean to send that long row of casks? and how many of them will it take, upon an average, to dig a drunkard’s grave?