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So, in such good company I may introduce an absinthe drip one absinthe drip, dripped through a silver dripper, orderly, opalescent, cool, green-eyed deceptive. Kerner was a fool. Besides that, he was an artist and my good friend. Now, if there is one thing on earth utterly despicable to another, it is an artist in the eyes of an author whose story he has illustrated. Just try it once.

"I never tried one I mean an absinthe drip," said I. The waiter brought it and poured the water slowly over the ice in the dripper. "It looks exactly like the Mississippi River water in the big bend below Natchez," said I, fascinated, gazing at the be-muddled drip. "There are such flats for eight dollars a week," said Kerner. "You are a fool," said I, and began to sip the filtration.

Two cupfuls of sugar, half a cupful of butter, one pint of sweet milk, one tablespoonful of salt, two heaping teaspoonfuls of baking powder sifted into a quart of flour, or enough to form a thick batter; add a quart of the huckleberries; to be baked in a dripper; cut into squares for the table and served hot with butter. Blackberries may be used the same.