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You ought to climb on the water-wagon, Ford, and that's a fact. Whisky's the worst enemy you've got." "Sure. And I'm going to punish all of it I can get my hands on!" He turned toward the door. "And when I'm good and full of it," he added as an afterthought, "I'm liable to come over here and lick you, Lew, just for being such an agreeable cuss. You better leave your mother's address handy."
"What's the drinks?" inquired Jim Clark, the supper items imparting to his inside a curious feeling of emptiness. "There's no lack of drinks in the City of the Saints," returned Brother Jarrum. "Whisky's plentiful. Have you heard of mint julep? That is delicious. Mint is one of the few productions not common out there, and we are learning to make the julep with sage instead.
"The whisky's had something to do with it," said Jim. "Hard work didn't make your face so red." "Is it my own boy talks to me like that?" said the old woman, wiping her eyes on her dress. But her sorrow was quickly succeeded by a different emotion, as the door opened suddenly, and Robert Rushton entered the room.
The drunkard continued: "There's lots of jest sech folks, here in Backley, an' ev'ry where's else people that don't get half fed, an' do get worked half to death. Nobody means to 'buse 'em, but they do hev a hard time of it, an' whisky's the best friend they've got."
An' whisper hether, Jerry not that I look upon Frank Finnerty an the man he ought to be, for we all know the narrow escape he had for the murder of Tom Whisky's son still an' all, he's safe wid Finnerty, bekaise he knows that we know where he is, and that if anything happened him we'd hould him accountable."
That's what whisky's did for him." "And what it will do for you one of these days," interrupts the jailer, admonishingly. "Up for disturbing the peace at Madame Flamingo's. Committed by Justice Snivel." "Throwing stones by way of repentance, eh? Tom was, at one time, as good a customer as that house had. A man's welcome at that house when he's up in the world.
"Oh, Dickie dear, whatever have they been doing to its good old face?" she demanded, with tenderness for the one, and anger for the many mingling in her voice. "Nothing to what they got from him, Betsy unless I'm an ass. But he'll tell us when that whisky's worked in his veins a bit. He's got a lady out there, waiting. Shall I fetch her in or you?" Dick half rose from his chair.
"The dullness isn't your fault or the whisky's. Fellows who don't fellows like me I mean have just the same feeling that it's all rather flat and a failure. But the world's made like that; it's all survival. Some people are made to get on, like Warner; and some people are made to stick quiet, like me. You can't help your temperament.
It's all along of our cussed fool good-nature; they see it amuses us, and they'll keep it up as long as the whisky's free. What we want to do is, when the next man comes waltzin' along " A distant clatter from the rocky hillside here mingled with the puff of damp air through the window.
"I wouldn't have done it," said Ben's new friend rejoining him; "but it'll help me to forget what a blamed fool I've been to-night. You jest let the drink alone. That's my advice," "I mean to," said Ben firmly. "Do people drink much out here?" "Whisky's their nat'ral element," said the miner. "Some of 'em don't drink water once a month.
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