His friends sorrowfully shook their heads negatively.
"Yes you have! Sure of it! You, Sir—imbibed whiskey! No harm in good whiskey—excellent thing, good whiskey! But injuriverius—should say, injurious—if has too much flavour of malt! Your whiskey too much flavour of malt! You took brandy—bad brandy—too much taste of grapes! You took rum—bad rum—too much mo—mo—molasses! Now I took all three—whiskey, brandy, rum, but pure—no by-products. No, not at all. Result! See! Sober as judge!"
And, succumbing to a sudden desire for slumber, the Professor, at this point of his discourse, joined his friends under the table!
CYCLING NOTES.
He. "DO YOU BELONG TO THE PSYCHICAL SOCIETY?"
She. "NO; BUT I SOMETIMES GO OUT ON MY BROTHER'S MACHINE!"