Tibbitts made the President understand that he wanted larger mugs. He explained that he was thirsty, and that the time consumed in bringing the small mugs (they held nearly a quart) was so much waste, and that the effect of one quencher died out before another could be brought. What he wanted was a mug that held some beer. He was not a baby, but a man.
MR. TIBBITTS AND THE STUDENTS.
And so mugs were brought about twice the size of those they had been using. Tibbitts touched his opponent’s mug in good-fellowship, after the custom, and putting his lips to it drank it off at one pull, and tapped on the table to have it re-filled, to the delight of the other colored caps, and the dismay of the reds. The President smiled in a sickly sort of way and drank. He finished the mug, and leering wildly around the room, made a feeble attempt to get his pipe to his mouth, reeled and fell prostrate. He was vanquished, and his friends bore him senseless from the floor.
“The idea of a mere German attempting to drink with a man who was weaned on Oshkosh whisky,” said Tibbitts, contemptuously. “I am now just in humor to tackle the Vice-President, Secretary and Treasurer of this Club, all at once.”
MR. TIBBITTS AND THE STUDENTS.