A voice said “Vot?

PROHIBITION

“I wouldn’t mind if it were gin!” he said,

“Good gin’s like ether, sick with pungent sweet,

And rum I never liked—not even neat!

Champagne and such stuck pins into my head.

Old port was sunlight where a ruby bled.

The silky-bright liqueurs had twinkling feet

Like gipsy children running down a street;

And beer’s as old a brother as good bread.