24. Then each man bade his neighbour farewell, embracing and vowing eternal friendship, and some were borne home by men in scanty raiment, and others in carriages which jingled as they went; and others drove their own chariots home, and saw many strange sights, for they found grass growing and ditches in the midst of the way where they had not perceived them before.
25. And it came to pass that in the morning many lamented, and took no breakfast that day; and the men in white raiment brought unto them many cunningly-devised drinks, yea, pick-me-ups, for their tongues clove unto the roofs of their mouths, and the spittle on their beard was like unto a small silver coin, even a sixpence.
26. But, when they thought on the previous day, they rejoiced again, for they said, Our brethren whom we have left will hear of it at the Feast of the New Year, and they will remember us and bless us, and our hearts and hands shall be strengthened for our labour here.
That is quite delicious! And now we will allow George Outram to close the chapter with his inimitable poem:—
DRINKIN’ DRAMS,
OR, “THE TIPPLER’S PROGRESS.”
He ance was holy
An’ melancholy,
Till he fand the folly
O’ singin’ psalms;