“I got no regret, thank you,” he reject. “With another drink I could beat the world.”
So he go home and beat his wife, as usual.
In night-time I burst soda-syfen to mirror of Strunsky saloon, so I decide to be a temperance Japanese & resign before discovery & kick. So I go back to my bedstead at Patriots of Japan Board & Lodging where I find O-Fido who make joy-signal to me by snubbed tail. He are merely a doggly pup who ain’t got no soul to skare with Demon Rums, etc. He ain’t go no ambition & are fond of milk. He imagine Hashimura Togo are Emperor of Japan, I suppose. I permit him to be decieved.
I remove off my shoes for comfert & took down book of Rubbert Burn, famous Scotch, for read it. I study them soft musick about “Flow gentle, sweet Afton”—and then I think how people say-so that he were most greatest Poet when most drunk. Maybe-so he were; but I never seen no drunks act that way around saloon of Hon. Strunsky.
When—of suddenly—come rap-tap at door. And inwards arrive Bunkio Saguchi, fly-away Japanese, with jaggly expression of one who has.
“I wish to give banzai to entire human race to include Nick, Zar of Russia, who are merely a mistake,” gollup Bunkio. “I wish to telegraf happy greet to all politicians in & out of office to include Col. Guffey, who——”
He make set-down to floor because he think it was a chair.
“You are in a toxic condition,” I dib frownly.
“Many persons are most intelligent when so,” he motter.
“Many persons are least so,” I flap back.