The boat was now sailing the upper reaches of the river; with the mountains in the distance. Sana suddenly remarked:
“This reminds me of a journey I once took up the Rhine. Only the castles and winefields which lend an added interest and romance to that historic river, are missing here.”
“True, my dear,” from Mrs. O’Brien, “but the homes of our millionaires answer the purpose of the castles. As for the vineyards—they are ‘verboten,’ as the saying is, since our country has gone dry.”
It was with a curious questioning glance, her head turned sidewise toward her companion, that Sana said, “But there is always wine at your home? Where does it come from?”
“Oh, my husband takes care of that. He used to import his wines from France and Germany, but that, of course, cannot be done now. So we have to do the next best thing and that is buy it from those who manage to get it into the country. As for stronger liquors, anyone who has the price can get all they wish. England attends to supplying us with her national drinks, so we get all the whiskey and brandy we wish. The English have seen what a wonderful market they have here for their goods—wet goods, you understand, and they are taking the opportunity to make the best of it.”
This was all news to Sana, and she was content to let her friend go on with her story.
“Yes, indeed. Special ‘rum-ships’ are operated under the usual English governmental protection. These ships come within a few miles from shore, remaining just far enough outside to be beyond the reach of the Federal authorities. ‘Rum-runners’—fast motorboats—go out to these ships, get a cargo, and under cover of darkness or a favorable fog, transport it to the land of liberty.”
“How is it they can smuggle in this contraband when your government is so efficient and all your authorities so honest in carrying out the law?”
“Don’t worry, child. Many of those authorities, although appearing thoroughly honest on the face of things, get their rake-off. Every so often we read, in the papers, of some such authority being caught at just that sort of thing. Why, some of those fellows are getting rich on the graft. It seems to me that laws of that kind are always enacted for just one purpose. And that is that certain politicians, or preferably their friends, may enrich themselves at the expense of the general public. The rich today can get all the liquor they want, but part of the price they pay goes into the pockets of some grafter.
“It was always the same. Why I remember the time, some ten years ago, a law was put into effect to control the sale of drinks on Sundays. Food had to be served with the drinks to keep within the law. It was a farce. The protective police and their go-betweens took the graft, and the sandwich which was served with the drinks went back and forth between the bar and the tables, acting simply as a chaperon. The same sandwich was served a hundred times or so, before it ended its career in the garbage pail. Provided, of course, some hungry individual, short a dime for food, would not swallow it with his whiskey.”