"Nonsense! That's all some old woman's notion of yours."
"Well, be that as it may, I certainly intend continuing to be as sober a man as I have been for the last three months."
"Won't you drink a drop after your time is up?"
"That'll be just as I choose. I will drink or let it alone, as I like. I shall then be free to drink moderately, or not at all, as seems agreeable to me."
"That is a little more sensible than your perpetual total-abstinence, teetotal, cold-water system. Who would be such a miserable slave? I would rather die drunk in the gutter, than throw away my liberty."
"I believe I have said as much myself."
"Don't you feel a desire to have a good glass of wine, or a julep, now and then?"
"No, not the slightest. I've sworn off for six months, and that ends the matter. Of course, I have no more desire for a glass of liquor than I have to fly to the moon,—one is a moral, and the other a physical impossibility; and, therefore, are dismissed from my thoughts."
"What do you mean by a moral impossibility?"
"I have taken an oath not to drink for six months, and the violation of that oath is, for one of my views and feelings, a moral impossibility."