IN THE SWEET 
 DRY AND DRY 
 
 CHRISTOPHER MORLEY 
 BART HALEY 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
HE WAVED AN ENCOURAGING ARM 
 OVER THE CRYSTALS. "WITH THE 
 COMPLIMENTS OF THE CORPORA 
 TION, ! HE REPEATED. 
 
IN THE 
 SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 BY 
 
 CHRISTOPHER MORLEY 
 
 AND 
 
 BART HALEY 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BT 
 
 GLUYAS WILLIAMS 
 
 BONI AND LIVERIGHT 
 NEW YORK 19*9 
 
COPYEIGHT, 1919, 
 
 BY BONI & LIVERIGHT, INC. 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
DEDICATED TO 
 
 G. K. CHESTERTON 
 
 MOST DELIGHTFUL OF MODERN 
 DECANTERBURY PILGRIMS 
 
 M531663 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 AS far as this book is concerned, the 
 public may Take It, or the public may 
 Let It Alone. But the authors feel it 
 their duty to say that no deductions as to their 
 own private habits are to be made from the 
 story here offered. With its composition they 
 have beguiled the moments of the valley of the 
 shadow. 
 
 Acknowledgement should be made to the 
 Evening Public Ledger of Philadelphia for per 
 mission to reprint the ditty included in Chapter 
 VI. 
 
 The public will forgive this being only a 
 brief preface, for at the moment of writing the 
 time is short. Wishing you a Merry Absti 
 nence, and looking forward to meeting you 
 some day in Europe, 
 
 CHRISTOPHER MORLEY, 
 BART HALEY. 
 
 Philadelphia, 
 
 Ten minutes before Midnight, June 30, /pip. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. MYSTERY OF THE UNEXPECTED JULEP . 9 
 
 II. THE HOUSE ON CARAWAY STREET . 17 
 
 III. INCIDENT OF THE GOOSEBERRY BOMBS . 37 
 
 IV. THE GREAT WAR BEGINS 52 
 
 V. THE TREACHERY OF Miss CHUFF . . 70 
 
 VI. DEPARTED SPIRITS 87 
 
 VII. THE DECANTERBURY PILGRIMS . . . 104 
 
 VIII. WITH BENEFIT OF CLERGY . . . . 120 
 
 IX. THE ELECTION 133 
 
 X. E PLURIBUS UNUM 146 
 
 XI. IT S A LONG WORM THAT HAS No TURN 
 ING 164 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 He waved an encouraging arm over the crystals. 
 "With the compliments of the Corporation, * 
 he repeated Frontispiece 
 
 JACIWO 
 PAGE 
 
 " Hush, said Quimbleton nervously. Some one 
 may be watching us. You see I water the 
 flowers with champagne" 22 
 
 A sullen murmur arose when the messages were 
 read 40 
 
 The chuffs were ruthless once their passions were 
 
 aroused 64 
 
 With Bleak playing the r61e of customer, he then 
 went through a pantomime of serving im 
 aginary drinks 96 
 
 They led a nomad existence for weeks . . . 106 
 
 "This is no time for jest/ said the Bishop 
 angrily. "Remember, I shall be pitiless.". . 126 
 
 "But this is a grand job," said Jerry. "Govern 
 ment service, you see." 154 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
IN THE 
 SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MYSTERY OF THE UNEXPECTED JULEP 
 
 DUNRAVEN BLEAK, the managing 
 editor of The Evening Balloon, sat at 
 his desk in the center of the local- 
 room, under a furious cone of electric light. 
 It was six o clock of a warm summer after 
 noon : he was filling his pipe and turning over 
 the pages of the Final edition of the paper, 
 iwhich had just come up from the press-room. 
 After the turmoil of the day the room had 
 quieted, most of the reporters had left, and the 
 shaded lamps shone upon empty tables and a 
 floor strewn ankle-deep with papers. Nearby 
 sat the city editor, checking over the list of as- 
 .signments for the next morning. From an ad 
 joining kennel issued occasional deep groans 
 and a strong whiff of savage shag tobacco, 
 
 ,9 
 
io IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 blown outward by the droning gust of an elec 
 tric fan. These proved that the cartoonist (a 
 man whose sprightly drawings were born to an 
 obbligato of vehement blasphemy) was at 
 work within. 
 
 Mr. Bleak was just beginning to recuperate 
 from the incessant vigilance of the day s work. 
 There was an unconscious pathos in his lean, 
 desiccated figure as he rose and crossed the 
 room to the green glass drinking-fountain. 
 After the custom of experienced newspaper 
 men, he rapidly twirled a makeshift cup out of 
 a sheet of copy paper. He poured himself a 
 draught of clear but rather tepid water, and 
 drank it without noticeable relish. His lifted 
 head betrayed only the automatic thankfulness 
 of the domestic fowl. There had been a time 
 when six o clock meant something better than 
 a paper goblet of lukewarm filtration. 
 
 He sat down at his desk again. He had 
 loaded his pipe sedulously with an extra fine 
 blend which he kept in his desk drawer for 
 smoking during rare moments of relaxation 
 when he had leisure to savor it. As he reached 
 for a match he was meditating a genial remark 
 to the city editor, when he discovered that there 
 was only one tandsticker in the box. He struck 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY *i 
 
 t, and the blazing head flew off upon the cream- 
 colored thigh of his Palm Beach suit. His 
 naturally placid temper, undermined by thirty 
 years of newspaper work and two years of pro 
 hibition, flamed up also. With a loud scream 
 of rage and a curse against Sweden, he leaped 
 to his feet and shook the glowing cinder from 
 his person. Facing him he found a stranger 
 who had entered the room quietly and unob 
 served. 
 
 This was a huge man, clad in a sober uni 
 form of gray cloth, with silver buttons and 
 silver braid. A Sam Browne belt of wide blue 
 leather marched across his extensive diagonal 
 in a gentle curve. The band of his vizored 
 military cap showed the initials C. P. H. in 
 silver embroidery. His face, broad and clean 
 shaven, shone with a lustre which was partly 
 warmth and partly simple friendliness. Save 
 [for a certain humility of bearing, he might have 
 been taken for the liveried door-man of a mov 
 ing-picture theater or exclusive millinery shop. 
 In one hand he carried a very large black 
 leather suit-case. 
 
 "Is this Mr. Bleak?" he asked politely. 
 
 "Yes," said the editor, in surprise. His se 
 cret surmise was that some one had died and 
 
12 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 left him a legacy which would enable him to 
 retire from newspaper work. (This is the 
 unacknowledged dream that haunts many jour 
 nalists.) Mr. Bleak was wondering whether 
 this was the way in which legacies were an 
 nounced. 
 
 The man in the gray uniform set the bag 
 down with great care on the large flat desk. 
 He drew out a key and unlocked it. Before 
 opening it he looked round the room. The 
 city editor and three reporters were watching 
 curiously. A shy gayety twinkled in his clear 
 blue eyes. 
 
 "Mr. Bleak," he said, "you and these other 
 gentlemen present are men of discretion ?" 
 
 Bleak made a gesture of reassurance. 
 
 The other leaned over the suit-case and lifted 
 the lid. 
 
 The bag was divided into several compart 
 ments. In one, the startled editor beheld a 
 nest of tall glasses ; in another, a number of in 
 teresting flasks lying in a porcelain container 
 among chipped ice. In the lid was an array 
 of straws, napkins, a flat tray labeled Cloves, 
 and a bunch of what looked uncommonly like 
 mint leaves. Mr. Bleak did not speak, but his 
 pulse was disorderly. 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 13 
 
 The man in gray drew out five tumblers and 
 placed them on the desk. Rapidly several bot 
 tles caught the light: there was a gesture of 
 pouring, a clink of ice, and beneath the spell 
 bound gaze of the watchers the glasses fumed 
 and bubbled with a volatile potion. A glass 
 mixing rod tinkled in the thin crystal shells, 
 and the man of mystery deftly thrust a clump 
 of foliage into each. A well known fragrance 
 exhaled upon the tobacco-thickened air. 
 
 "Shades of the Grail !" cried Bleak. "Mint 
 julep!" 
 
 The visitor bowed and pushed the glasses 
 forward. "With the compliments of the Cor 
 poration," he said. 
 
 The city editor sprang to his feet. Sagely 
 cynical, he suspected a ruse. 
 
 "It s a plant!" he exclaimed. "Don t touch 
 it ! It s a trick on the part of the Department 
 of Justice, trying to get us into trouble." 
 
 Bleak gazed angrily at the stranger. If this 
 was indeed a federal stratagem, what an in 
 tolerably cruel one ! In front of him the glasses 
 sparkled alluringly: a delicate mist gathered 
 on their ice-chilled curves : a pungent sweetness 
 wavered in his nostrils. 
 
 "See here!" he blurted with shrill excite- 
 
14 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 ment. "Are you a damned government agent? 
 If so, take your poison and get out." 
 
 The tall stranger in his impressive uniform 
 stood erect and unabashed. With affectionate 
 care he gave the tumblers a final musical stir. 
 
 "O ye of little faith!" he said calmly. The 
 sadness of the misunderstood idealist grieved 
 his features. "Have you forgotten the miracle 
 of Cana ?" From his pocket he took a card and 
 laid it on the desk. 
 
 Bleak seized it. It said : 
 
 THE CORPORATION FOR THE 
 PERPETUATION OF HAPPINESS 
 
 1316 Caraway Street 
 
 Virgil Quimbleton, Associate Director 
 
 He stared at the pasteboard, stupefied, and 
 handed it to the city editor. 
 
 Meanwhile the three reporters had drawn 
 near. Light-hearted and irresponsible souls, 
 tinoppressed by the embittered suspicion of 
 their superiors, they nosed the floating aroma 
 with candid hilarity. 
 
 "The breath of Eden!" said one. 
 
 "It s a warm evening," remarked another, 
 with seeming irrelevance. 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 15 
 
 The face of Virgil Quimbleton, the man in 
 gray, relaxed again at these marks of honest 
 appreciation. He waved an encouraging arm 
 over the crystals. "With the compliments of 
 the Corporation," he repeated. 
 
 Bleak and the city editor looked again at the 
 card, and at each other. They scanned the face 
 of their mysterious benefactor. Bleak s hand 
 went out to the nearest glass. He raised it to 
 his lips. An almost- forgotten formula re 
 curred to him. "Down the rat-hole !" he cried, 
 and tilted his arm. The others followed suit, 
 and the associate director watched them with 
 a glow of perfect altruism. 
 
 The glasses were still in air when the car 
 toonist emerged from his room. "Holy cat!" 1 
 he cried in amazement. "What s going on?" 
 He seized one of the empty vessels and sniffed 
 it. 
 
 "Treason!" he exclaimed. "Who s been 
 robbing the mint?" 
 
 "Maybe you can have one too," said Bleak, 
 and turned to where Quimbleton had been 
 standing. But the mysterious visitor had left 
 the room. 
 
 "You re too late, Bill," said the city editor 
 
16 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 genially. "There was a kind of Messiah here, 
 but he s gone. Tough luck." 
 
 "Say, boss," suggested one of the reporters. 
 "There s a story in this. May I interview that 
 guy?" 
 
 Bleak picked up the card and put it in his 
 pocket. A heavenly warmth pervaded his men 
 tal fabric. "A story?" he said. "Forget it! 
 This is no story. It s a legend of the dear dead 
 past. I ll cover this assignment myself." 
 
 He borrowed a match and lit his pipe. Then 
 he put on his coat and hat and left the office. 
 
 It was remarked by faithful readers of the 
 Balloon that the next day s cartoon was one of 
 the least successful in the history of that bril 
 liant newspaper. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE HOUSE ON CARAWAY STREET 
 
 AFTER telephoning to his wife that he 
 would not be home for supper, Bleak 
 set out for Caraway Street. He was 
 in that exuberant mood discernible in com 
 muters unexpectedly spending an evening in 
 town. Instead of hurrying out to the suburbs 
 on the 6:17 train, to mow the lawn and admire 
 the fireflies, here he was watching the more 
 dazzling fireflies of the city the electric signs 
 which were already bulbed wanly against the 
 rich orange of the falling sun. He puffed his 
 pipe lustily and with a jaunty condescension 
 watched the crowds thronging the drugstores 
 for their dram of ice-cream soda. In his bosom 
 the secret julep tingled radiantly. At that hour 
 of the evening the shining bustle of the cen 
 tral streets was drawing the life of the city to 
 itself. In the residential by-ways through 
 which his route took him the pavements were 
 nearly deserted. A delicious sense of extrava- 
 
 17 
 
i8 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRYi 
 
 gant adventure possessed him. As a news 
 paper man, he did not feel at all sure that he 
 was on the threshold of a printable "story"; 
 but as a connoisseur of juleps he felt that very 
 possibly he was on the threshold of another 
 drink. Passing a line of billboards, he noticed 
 a brightly colored poster advertising a brand of 
 collars. In sheer light-heartedness he drew a 
 soft pencil from his waistcoat and adorned the 
 comely young man on the collar poster with a 
 heavy mustache. 
 
 Caraway Street, with which he had not pre 
 viously been familiar, proved to be a quaint 
 little channel of old brick houses, leading into 
 the bonfire of the summer sunset. There was 
 nothing to distinguish number 1316 from its 
 neighbors. He rang the bell, and there ensued 
 a rapid clicking in the lock, indicating that the 
 latch had been released by some one within. 
 He pushed the door open, and entered. 
 
 He had a curious sensation of having 
 stepped into an old Flemish painting. The hall 
 in which he stood was cool and rather dark, 
 though a bright refraction of light tossed from 
 some upper window upon a tall mirror filled the 
 shadow with broken spangles. Through an 
 open doorway at the rear was the green glim- 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 19 
 
 mer of a garden. In front of him was a ma 
 hogany sideboard. On its polished top lay two 
 books, a box of cigars, and a cut glass decanter 
 surrounded by several glasses. In the decanter 
 was a pale yellow fluid which held a beam of 
 light. The house was completely silent. 
 
 Somewhat abashed, he removed his hat and 
 stood irresolute, expecting some greeting. But 
 nothing happened. On a rack against the wall 
 he saw a gray uniform coat like that which 
 Mr. Quimbleton had worn in the Balloon office, 
 and a similar gray cap with the silver mono 
 gram. He glanced at the books. One was The 
 Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the other was a 
 Bible, open at the second chapter of John. He 
 (was looking curiously at the decanter when a 
 voice startled him. 
 
 "Dandelion wine !" it said. "Will you have 
 a glass ?" 
 
 He turned and saw an old gentleman with 
 profuse white hair and beard tottering into 
 the hall. 
 
 "Glad to see you, Mr. Bleak," said the latter. 
 "I was expecting you." 
 
 "You are very kind," said the editor. * I 
 fear you have the advantage of me I was told 
 that Walt Whitman died in 1892 " 
 
20 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 "Nonsense !" wheezed the other with a senile 
 chuckle. He straightened, ripped off his silver 
 fringes, and appeared as the stalwart Quimble- 
 ton himself. 
 
 "Forgive my precautions/ he said. "I am 
 surrounded by spies. I have to be careful. 
 Should some of my enemies learn that old Mr. 
 Monkbones of Caraway Street is the same as 
 Virgil Quimbleton of the Happiness Corpora 
 tion, my life wouldn t be worth well, a glass 
 of gooseberry brandy. Speaking of that, Have 
 a little of the dandelion wine." He pointed to 
 the decanter. 
 
 Bleak poured himself a glass, and watched 
 his host carefully resume the hoary wig and 
 whiskers. They passed into the garden, a quiet 
 green enclosure surrounded by brick walls and 
 bright with hollyhocks and other flowers. It 
 was overlooked by a quaint jumble of rear 
 gables, tall chimneys and white-shuttered dor 
 mer windows. 
 
 "Do you play croquet?" asked Quimbleton, 
 showing a neat pattern of white hoops fixed in 
 the shaven turf. "If so, we must have a game 
 after supper. It s very agreeable as a quiet 
 relaxation." 
 
 Mr. Bleak was still trying to get his bearings. 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 21 
 
 To see this robust creature gravely counter 
 feiting the posture of extreme old age was al 
 most too much for his gravity. There was a 
 bizarre absurdity in the solemn way Quimble- 
 ton beamed out from his frosty and fraudulent 
 shrubbery. Something in the air of the gar 
 den, also, seemed to push Bleak toward laugh 
 ter. He had that sensation which we have all 
 experienced an unaccountable desire to roar 
 with mirth, for no very definite cause. He 
 bit his lip, and sought rigorously for decorum. 
 
 "Upon my soul," he said, "This is the most 
 fragrant garden I ever smelt. What is that 
 delicious odor in the air, that faint per 
 fume ?" 
 
 "That subtle sweetness?" said Quimbleton, 
 with unexpected drollery. 
 
 -"Exactly," said Bleak. "That abounding 
 and pervasive aroma " 
 
 "That delicate bouquet ?" 
 
 "Quite so, that breath of myrrh " 
 
 "That balmy exhalation ?" 
 
 Bleak wondered if this was a game. He 
 tried valiantly to continue. "Precisely," lie 
 said, "That quintessence of " 
 
 He could coerce himself no longer, and burst 
 into a yell of laughter. 
 
22 IN THE SWEET DRY AND 
 
 "Hush !" said Quimbleton, nervously. 
 - Some one may be watching us. But the fra 
 grance of the garden is something I am rather 
 proud of. You see, I water the flowers with 
 champagne/ 
 
 "With champagne!" echoed Bleak. "Good 
 Heavens, man, you ll get penal servitude." 
 
 "Nonsense !" said Quimbleton. "The Eight 
 eenth Amendment says that intoxicating 
 liquors may not be manufactured, sold or 
 transported for beverage purposes. Nothing is 
 said about using them to irrigate the garden. I 
 have a friend who makes this champagne him 
 self and gives me some of it for my rose-beds. 
 If you spray the flowers with it, and then 
 walk round and inhale them, you get quite 
 a genial reaction. I do it principally to annoy 
 Bishop Chuff. You see, he lives next door." 
 
 -"Bishop Chuff of the Pan-Antis?" 
 
 "Yes," said Quimbleton "but don t shout! 
 His garden adjoins this. He has a periscope 
 that overlooks my quarters. That s why I 
 have to wear this disguise in the garden. I 
 think he s getting a bit suspicious. I manage 
 to cause him a good deal of suffering with the 
 fizz fumes from my garden. Jolly idea, isn t 
 it?" 
 
n 
 
 n 
 
 m m 
 
 "HUSH." SAID QUIMBLETON NER 
 VOUSLY. "SOMEONE MAY BE WATCH 
 ING US. ... YOU SEE I WATER THE 
 FLOWERS WITH CHAMPAGNE." 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 25 
 
 Bleak was aghast at the temerity of the man. 
 Bishop Chuff, the fanatical leader of the Anti- 
 Everything League jocosely known as the 
 Pan-Antis was the most feared man in 
 America. It was he whose untiring organiza 
 tion had forced prohibition through the legis 
 latures of forty States had closed the golf 
 links on Sundays had made it a misdemeanor 
 to be found laughing in public. And here was 
 this daring Quimbleton, living at the very sill 
 of the lion s den. 
 
 "By means of my disguise," whispered 
 Quimbleton, "I was able to make a pleasant 
 impression on the Bishop. One evening I went 
 to call on him. I took the precaution to eat a 
 green persimmon beforehand, which distorted 
 my features into such a malignant contraction 
 of pessimism and misanthropy that I quite won 
 his heart. He accepted an invitation to play 
 croquet with me. That afternoon I prepared 
 the garden with a deluge of champagne. The 
 golden drops sparkled on every rose-petal : the 
 lawn was drenched with it. After playing one 
 round the Bishop was gloriously inflamed. He 
 had to be carried home, roaring the most un 
 seemly ditties. Since then, as I say, he has 
 
26 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 grown (I fear) a trifle suspicious. But let us 
 have a bite of supper/ 
 
 More than once, as they sat under a thickly 
 leafy grape arbor in the quiet green enclosure, 
 Bleak had to pinch himself to confirm the wit 
 ness of his senses. A table was delicately 
 spread with an agreeable repast of cold salmon, 
 asparagus salad, fruits, jellies, and whipped 
 creams. The flagon of dandelion vintage 
 played its due part in the repast, and Mr. Bleak 
 began to entertain a new respect for this com 
 mon flower of which he had been unduly inap- 
 preciative. Although the trellis screened them 
 from observation, Quimbleton seemed ill at 
 ease. He kept an alert gaze roving about him, 
 and spoke only in whispers. Once, when a 
 bird lighted in the foliage behind them, causing 
 a sudden stir among the leaves, his shaggy 
 beard whirled round with every symptom of 
 panic. Little by little this apprehension began 
 to infect the journalist also. At first he had 
 hardly restrained his mirth at the sight of this 
 burly athlete framed in the bush of Santa 
 Claus. Now he began to wonder whether his 
 escapade had been consummated at too great 
 a risk. 
 
 That old-fashioned quarter of the city was 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 27 
 
 incredibly still. As the light ebbed slowly, and 
 broad blue shadows crept across the patch of 
 turf, they sat in a silence broken only by the 
 wiry cheep of sparrows and the distant moan 
 of trolley cars. The arrows of the decumbent 
 sun gilded the ripening grapes above them. 
 Suddenly there were two loud bangs and 
 a vicious whistle sang through the arbor. 
 Broken twigs eddied down upon the table cloth. 
 
 "Spotted mackerel !" cried Bleak. "Is some 
 one shooting at us ?" 
 
 Quimbleton reappeared presently from un 
 der the table. "All serene," he said. "We re 
 safe now. That was only Chuff. Every night 
 about this time he comes out on his back gal 
 lery and enjoys a little sharp-shooting. He s 
 a, very good shot, and picks off the grapes that 
 have ripened during the day. There were only 
 two that were really purple this evening, so 
 now we can go ahead. Unless he should send 
 over a raiding party, we re all right." 
 
 The editor solaced himself with another 
 beaker of the dandelion wine and they finished 
 their meal in thoughtful silence. 
 
 "Mr. Bleak," said the other at last, "it was 
 something more than mere desire to give you 
 a pleasant surprise that led me to your office 
 
28 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 this afternoon. Have you leisure to listen? 
 Good! Please try one of these cigars. If, 
 while I am talking, you should hear any one 
 moving in the garden, just tap quietly on the 
 table. Tell me, have you, before to-day, ever 
 heard of the Corporation for the Perpetuation 
 of Happiness?" 
 
 "Never," replied Bleak, kindling a magnifico 
 of remarkably rich, mild flavor. 
 
 "That is as I expected," rejoined Quimble- 
 ton. "We have campaigned incognito, partly 
 by choice and partly (let me be candid) by 
 necessity. But the time is come when we shall 
 have to appear in the open. The last great 
 struggle is on, and it can no longer be con 
 ducted in the dark. In the course of my re 
 marks I may be tempted to forget our present 
 perils. I beg of you, if you hear any sounds 
 that seem suspicious, to notify me instantly." 
 
 "Pardon me," said Bleak, a little uneasily; 
 "it was my intention to catch the 9.30 train 
 for Mandrake Park/ 
 
 The fantastic cascade of false white Hair 
 wagged gravely in the dusk. 
 
 "My dear sir," said Quimbleton solemnly, 
 "I fancy you are to be gratified by a far higher 
 destiny than catching the 9.30. Do me the 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 29 
 
 honor of filling your glass. But be careful not 
 to clink the decanter against the tumbler. 
 There is every probability that vigilant ears 
 are on the alert." 
 
 There was a brief silence, and Bleak won 
 dered (a trifle wildly) if he were dreaming. 
 The cigar on the opposite side of the little 
 table glowed rosily several times, and then 
 Quimbleton s voice resumed, in a deep under 
 tone. 
 
 "It is necessary to tell you," he said, "that 
 the Corporation was founded a number of 
 years ago, long before the events of the fatal 
 year 1919 and the Eighteenth Amendment to 
 the Constitution. The incident of this after 
 noon may have caused you to think that what 
 is vulgarly called booze is the chief preoccupa 
 tion of our society. That is not so. We were 
 prganized at first simply to bring merriment 
 and good cheer into the lives of those who 
 have found the vexations of modern life too 
 trying. In our early days we carried on an 
 excellent (though unsystematic) guerilla war 
 fare against human suffering. 
 
 "In this (let me admit it frankly) we were 
 to a great degree selfish. As you are aware, 
 the essence of humor is surprise: we found a 
 
30 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 delicious humor in our campaign of surprising 
 woebegone humanity in moments of crisis. 
 For instance, we used to picket the railway 
 terminals to console commuters who had just 
 missed their trains. We found it uproariously 
 funny to approach a perspiring suburbanite, 
 who had missed the train (let us say) to Man 
 drake Park, and to press upon him, with the 
 compliments of the Corporation, some consola 
 tory souvenir a box of cigars, perhaps, or a 
 basket of rare fruit Housewives, groaning 
 over their endless routine of bathing the baby, 
 ordering the meals, sweeping the floors and 
 so on, would be amazed by the sudden appear 
 ance of one of our deputies, in the service uni 
 form of gray and silver, equipped with vacuum 
 cleaner and electric baby-washing machine, to 
 take over the domestic chores for one day. The 
 troubles of lovers were under our special care. 
 We saw how much anguish is caused by the 
 passion of jealousy. Many an engaged dam 
 sel, tempted to mild escapade in some perfumed 
 conservatory, found her heart chilled by the 
 stern eye of a uniformed C. P. H. agent lurk 
 ing behind a potted hydrangea. We hired 
 bands of urchins to make faces at evil old men 
 who plate-glass themselves in the windows of 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 31 
 
 clubs. Many a husband, wondering desper 
 ately which hat or which tie to select, has been 
 surprised by the appearance of one of our staff 
 at his elbow, tactfully pointing out which ar 
 ticle would best harmonize with his complexion 
 and station in life. Ladies who insisted on 
 overpowdering their noses were quietly way 
 laid by one of our matrons, and the excess of 
 rice-dust removed. A whole shipload of peo 
 ple who persisted in eating onions were gath 
 ered (without any publicity) into a concentra 
 tion camp, and in company with several popu 
 lar comedians, deported to a coral atoll. I 
 could enumerate thousands of such instances. 
 For several years we worked in this unassum 
 ing way, trying to add to the sum of human 
 happiness." 
 
 Quimbleton s white beard shone with a pink 
 ish brightness as he inhaled heavily on his 
 cigar. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Bleak," he went on, "I come to 
 you because we need your help. We can no 
 longer maintain a light-hearted sniping cam 
 paign on the enemies of human happiness. 
 This is a death struggle. You are aware that 
 Chuff and his legions are planning a tremen 
 dous parade for to-morrow. You know that 
 
32 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 it will be the most startling demonstration of 
 its kind ever arranged. One hundred thousand 
 pan-antis will parade on the Boulevard, with a 
 hundred brass bands, led by the Bishop himself 
 on his coal black horse. Do you know the pur 
 pose of the parade?" 
 
 "In a general way," said Bleak, "I suppose 
 it is to give publicity to the prohibition cause." 
 
 "They have kept their malign scheme en 
 tirely secret," said Quimbleton. "You, as a 
 newspaper man, should know it. Does the (so- 
 called) cause of prohibition require publicity? 
 Nonsense! Prohibition is already in effect. 
 The purpose of the parade is to undermine the 
 splendid work our Corporation has been doing 
 for the past two years. As soon as the fatal 
 amendment was passed we set to work to teach 
 people how to brew beverages of their own, in 
 their own homes. As you know, very delicious 
 wine may be made from almost every vegetable 
 and fruit. Potatoes, tomatoes, rhubarb, cur 
 rants, blackberries, gooseberries, raisins, apples 
 1 all these are susceptible of fermentation, 
 transforming their juices into desirable vin 
 tages. We specialized on such beverages. We 
 printed and distributed millions of recipes. 
 Chuff countered by passing laws that no 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 33 
 
 printed recipes could circulate through the 
 mails. We had motion pictures filmed, show 
 ing the eager public how to perform these sim 
 ple and cheering processes. Chuff thereupon 
 had motion pictures banned. He would abolish 
 the principle of fermentation itself if he could. 
 We composed a little song-recipe for dandelion 
 wine, sending thousands of minstrels to sing 
 it about the country until the people should 
 memorize it. Now Chuff threatens to forbid 
 singing and the memorizing of poetry. At 
 this moment he has fifty thousand zealots 
 working in the countryside collecting and 
 burning dandelion seeds so as to reduce the 
 crop next spring. 
 
 "The purpose of his parade to-morrow is 
 devastating in its simplicity. Having learned 
 that wine may be made from gooseberries, he 
 proposes (as a first step) to abolish them alto 
 gether. This is to be the Nineteenth Amend 
 ment to the Constitution. No gooseberries 
 shall be grown upon the soil of the United 
 States, or imported from abroad. Raisins too, 
 since it is said that one raisin in a bottle of 
 grape juice can cause it to bubble in illicit 
 fashion, are to be put in the category of deadly 
 weapons. Any one found carrying a concealed 
 
34 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 raisin will go before a firing squad. And 
 Chuff threatens to abolish all vegetables of 
 every kind if necessary." 
 
 Bleak sat in horrified silence. 
 
 "There is another aspect of the matter," said 
 Quimbleton, "that touches your profession 
 very closely. Bishop Chuff is greatly annoyed 
 at the persistent use of the printing press to 
 issue clandestine vinous recipes. He solemnly 
 threatens, if this continues, to abolish the print 
 ing press. This is to be the Twentieth Amend 
 ment. No printing press shall be used in the 
 territory of the United States. Any man 
 found with a printing press concealed about 
 his person shall be sentenced to life imprison 
 ment. Even the Congressional Record is to be 
 written entirely by hand." 
 
 The editor was unable to speak. He reached 
 for the decanter, but found it empty. 
 
 "Very well then," said Quimbleton. "The 
 facts are before you. I suppose The Evening 
 Balloon has made its customary enterprising 
 preparations to report the big parade?" 
 
 "Why, yes," said Bleak. "Three pho 
 tographers and three of our most brilliant re 
 porters have been assigned to cover the event. 
 One of the stories, dealing with pathetic inci- 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 33 
 
 dents of the procession, has already been writ 
 ten cases of women swooning in the vast 
 throng, and so on. The Balloon is always 
 first/ he added, by force of habit. 
 
 "I want you to discard all your plans for 
 describing the parade/ said Quimbleton. "I 
 am about to give you the greatest scoop in the 
 history of journalism. The procession will 
 break up in confusion. All that will be neces 
 sary to say can be said in half a dozen lines, 
 which I will give you now. I suggest that you 
 print them on your front page in the largest 
 possible type." 
 
 From his pocket he took a sheet of paper, 
 neatly folded, and handed it across the table. 
 
 "What on earth do you mean ?" asked Bleak. 
 "How can you know what will happen?" 
 
 "The Corporation has spoken," said his host. 
 "Let us go indoors, where you can read what 
 I have written." 
 
 In a small handsomely appointed library 
 Bleak opened the paper. It was a sheet of 
 official stationery and read as follows : 
 
36 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 THE CORPORATION FOR THE 
 PERPETUATION OF HAPPINESS 
 
 Cable Address : Hapcorp 
 Virgil Quimbleton, Associate Director 
 
 1316 Caraway Street 
 Owing to the intoxication of Bishop 
 Chuff, the projected parade of the 
 Pan-Antis broke up in confusion. 
 Federal Home for Inebriates at Cana, 
 N. J., reopened after two years vaca 
 tion. 
 
 Is this straight stuff ?" asked Bleak tremu 
 lously. 
 
 "My right hand upon it," cried Quimbleton, 
 tearing off his beard in his earnestness. 
 
 "Then good-night!" said Bleak. "I must 
 get back to the office." 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 INCIDENT OF THE GOOSEBERRY BOMBS 
 
 THE day of the great parade dawned 
 dazzling and clear, with every prom 
 ise of heat. From the first blue of 
 morning, while the streets were still cool and 
 marble front steps moist from housemaids 
 sluicings, crowds of Bishop Chuff s marchers 
 came pouring into the city. At the prear 
 ranged mobilization points, where bands were 
 stationed to keep the throngs amused until the 
 immense procession could be ranged in line, the 
 press was terrific. Every trolley, every subur 
 ban train, every jitney, was crammed with the 
 pan-antis, clad in white, carrying the buttons, 
 ribbons and banners that had been prepared 
 for this great occasion. Down with Goose 
 berries, the New "Menace! was the terrifying 
 legend printed on these emblems. 
 
 The Boulevard had been roped off by the 
 police by eight o clock, and the pavements were 
 swarming with citizens, many of whom had 
 
 37 
 
38 IN .THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 camped there all night in order to witness this 
 tremendous spectacle. As the sun surged piti 
 lessly higher, the temperature became painful. 
 The asphalt streets grew soft under the 
 twingeing feet of the Pan-Antis, and waves of 
 heat radiation shimmered along the vista of 
 the magnificent highway. To keep themselves 
 cheerful the legions of Chuff sang their new 
 Gooseberry Anthem, written by Miss Theodo- 
 linda Chuff (the Bishop s daughter) to the air 
 of "Marching Through Georgia." The rous 
 ing strains rose in unison from thousands of 
 earnest throats. The majesty of the song can 
 not be comprehended unless the reader will per 
 mit himself to hum to the familiar tune: 
 
 Root up every gooseberry where Satan winks 
 
 his eye 
 We will make the sinful earth a credit by and 
 
 by; 
 
 Europe may be stubborn, but we ll legislate her 
 
 dry, 
 And then we ll tackle the planets. 
 
 Chorus: 
 
 Hurrah! Hurrah! We re anti-everything 
 Hurrah! Hurrah! An end to joy we sing: 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 39 
 
 Come let s make life doleful and then 
 
 death will lose its sting, 
 Happiness is only a habit ! 
 
 Come then, all ye citizens, and join our stern 
 
 iVerein: 
 We re the ones that put the crimp in whiskey, 
 
 beer and wine; 
 Booze is gone and soon we ll make tobacco fall 
 
 in line, 
 And then we ll tackle the planets. 
 
 Chorus: 
 
 Hurrah ! Hurrah ! We re anti-everything 
 Hurrah! Hurrah! An end to joy we sing: 
 Come let s make life doleful and then 
 
 death will lose its sting, 
 Happiness is only a habit! 
 
 We ll abolish every fruit attempting to fer 
 ment 
 
 We will alter Nature s laws and teach her to 
 repent: 
 
 Let the fatal gooseberry proceed where cock 
 tails went, 
 And then we ll tackle the planets. 
 
 Chorus as before. 
 
40 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 From the beginning of the day, however, it 
 became apparent that there was a concerted 
 movement under way to heckle the Pan-Antis. 
 As the Gooseberry Anthem came to an end a 
 number of men were observed on the skyline 
 of a tall building, wig-wagging with flags. All 
 eyes were turned aloft, and much speculation 
 ensued among the waiting thousands as to the 
 meaning of the signals. Then a cry of anger 
 burst from one of the section leaders, who was 
 acquainted with the Morse code. The flags 
 were spelling What a Day for a Drink! All 
 down the Boulevard the white and gold ban 
 ners tossed in anger. To those above, the mass 
 of agitated chuffs looked like a field of daisies 
 in a wind. 
 
 Shortly afterward the familiar buzz of air 
 plane motors was heard, and three silver-gray 
 machines came coasting above the channel of 
 the Boulevard. They flew low, and it was easy 
 to read the initials C. P. H. painted on the 
 nether surface of their wings. Over the front 
 ranks of the parade (which was beginning to 
 fall in line) they executed a series of fantastic 
 twirls. Then, as though at a concerted signal, 
 they dropped a cloud of paper slips which came 
 eddying down through the sunlight. The 
 
A SULLEN MURMUR AROSE WHEN THE 
 MESSAGES WERE READ 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 43 
 
 chuffs scrambled for them, wondering. A sul 
 len murmur rose when the messages were read. 
 They ran thus : 
 
 TO MAKE GOOSEBERRY WINE 
 
 (Paste This in Your Hat) 
 
 Ten quarts of gooseberries, thoroughly 
 
 crushed; 
 
 Over these, five quarts of water are flushed. 
 Twice round the clock let the fluid remain, 
 Then through a sieve the blithe mixture you 
 
 strain, 
 
 Adding some sugar (not less than ten pound) 
 And stirring it carefully, round and around. 
 
 To the pulp of the fruit that remains in the 
 
 sieve 
 
 A gallon of pure filtered water you give: 
 This you let stand for a dozen of hours, 
 Then add to the other to strengthen its powers. 
 Shut up the whole for the space of a day 
 And it will ferment in a riotous way. 
 
 When you see by the froth that the fluid grows 
 
 thicker 
 You should skim it (with glee) for it s turning 
 
 to liquor! 
 
44 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 While it ferments, please continue to skim: 
 At the end, you may murmur the Bartender s 
 
 Hymn. 
 
 This makes a booze that is potent enough 
 Seal in a hogshead and hide it from Chuff! 
 Corporation for the 
 Perpetuation of Happiness. 
 
 The Pan-Antis were still muttering furious 
 ly over this daring act of defiance when a shrill 
 bugle-call pealed down the avenue. Bishop 
 Chuff rode out into the middle of the street 
 on his famous coal-black charger, John Barley 
 corn. There was a long hush. Then, with a 
 wave of his hand, he gave the signal. One 
 hundred bands burst into the somber and clang 
 ing strains of "The Face on the Bar-Room 
 Floor. 1 The great parade had begun. 
 
 From a house-top farther up the street Dun- 
 raven Bleak watched them come. He had 
 taken Quimbleton s word seriously, and with 
 his usual enterprise had rented a roof over 
 looking the Boulevard, on which several mem 
 bers of the Balloon staff were prepared to deal 
 with any startling events that might occur. A 
 battery of telephones had been installed on the 
 house-top; Bleak himself sat with apparatus 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 45 
 
 clamped to his head like an operator at central. 
 Two reporters were busy with paper and pen 
 cil; the cartoonist sat on the cornice, with legs 
 swinging above two hundred feet of space, 
 sketching the prodigious scene. The young 
 lady editor of the Woman s Page was there, 
 with opera glasses, noting down the "among 
 those present." 
 
 It was an awe-inspiring spectacle. Between 
 sidewalks jammed with silent and morose citi 
 zens, the Pan-Antis passed like a conquering 
 army. The terrible Bishop, the man who had 
 put military discipline into the ranks of his 
 mighty organization, rode his horse as the 
 Kaiser would have liked to ride entering Paris. 
 His small, bitter, fanatical face wore a deeply 
 carved sneer. His great black beard flapped in 
 the breeze, and he sang as he rode. Behind 
 him came huge floats depicting in startling 
 tableaux the hideous menace of the goose 
 berry. Bands blared and crashed. Then, rank 
 on rank, as far as eye could see, followed the 
 zealots in their garments of white. Each one, 
 it was noticed, carried a neat knapsack. Huge 
 tractors rumbled along, groaning beneath a 
 tonnage of tracts which were shot into the 
 
46 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 watching crowd by pneumatic guns. Banners 
 whipped and fluttered. 
 
 The sound of shrill chanting vibrated in the 
 blazing air like a visible wave of power. These 
 were conquerors of a nation, and they knew it. 
 A former bartender, standing in the front of 
 the crowd, caught Chuff s merciless gaze, wav 
 ered, and swooned. A retired distiller, sitting 
 in the window of the Brass Rail Club, fell dead 
 of apoplexy. 
 
 Bleak trembled with nervousness. Had 
 Quimbleton hoaxed him? What could halt 
 this mighty pageant now? He was about 
 to telephone to his city editor to go ahead 
 with the one o clock edition as originally 
 planned. . . . 
 
 From the sky came a roar of engines that 
 drowned for a moment the thundering echoes 
 of the parade. The three gray planes, which 
 had been circling far above, swooped down 
 almost to a level with the tops of the buildings. 
 One of these, a huge two-seated bomber, passed 
 directly over Bleak s head. He craned up 
 ward, and caught a glimpse of what he thought 
 at first was a white pennant trailing over the 
 bulwark of the cockpit. A snowy shag of 
 whiskers came tossing down through the air 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 47 
 
 and fell in his lap. It was Quimbleton s beard, 
 torn from its moorings by the tug of wind- 
 pressure. Bleak thrust it quickly in his pocket. 
 As the great plane passed over the head of 
 the parade, flying dangerously low, every face 
 save that of the iron-willed Bishop was turned 
 upward. But even in their curiosity the 
 rigid discipline of the Pan-Antis prevailed. 
 Now they were singing, to the tune of "The 
 Old Gray Mare/ 
 
 Old John Barleycorn, he ain t what he used 
 to be 
 
 Ain t what he used to be 
 
 AIN T WHAT HE USED TO BE ! 
 
 Old John Barleycorn, he ain t what he used 
 
 to be, 
 Many a year ago. 
 
 The great volume of gusty sound, hurled aloft 
 by these thousands of sky-pointing mouths, 
 created an air-pocket in which the bombing 
 plane tilted dangerously. For a moment, Bleak, 
 ,who was watching the plane, thought it was 
 going to careen into a tail-spin and crash down 
 fatally. Then he saw Quimbleton, still recog 
 nizable by an adhering shred of whisker, lean 
 over the side of the fuselage. 
 
48 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 A small dark object dropped through the air, 
 fell with a loud pop on the street a few yards 
 in front of the Bishop. A faint green vapor 
 arose, misting for a moment the proud figures 
 of Chuff and his horse. At the same instant 
 the other two planes, throbbing down the line 
 of the parade, discharged a rain of similar pro 
 jectiles along the vacant strip of paving be 
 tween the marching chuffs and the police-lined 
 curb. An eddying emerald fume filled the 
 street, drifting with the brisk air down through 
 all the ranks of the procession. There were 
 shouts and screams; the clanging bands 
 squawked discordantly. 
 
 "Holy cat!" shouted the cartoonist "Poison 
 gas!" 
 
 "Nix!" said Bleak, revealing Quimbleton s 
 secret in his excitement. "Gooseberry bombs. 
 Every chuff that inhales it will be properly 
 soused. Oh, boy, some story! Look at the 
 Bish! He s got a snootful already his face 
 has turned black!" 
 
 "The whole crowd has turned black/ said 
 the cartoonist, almost falling off his perch in 
 a frantic effort to see more clearly through the 
 olive haze that filled the street. 
 
 It was true. Above the thousands of white 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 49 
 
 figures, as they emerged from the intoxicat 
 ing cloud-bank of gooseberry gas, grinned 
 ghastly, inhuman, blackened faces, with staring 
 goggle eyes. The Bishop was most frightful 
 of all. His horse was prancing and swaying 
 wildly, and the Bishop s transformed features 
 were diabolic. His whole profile had altered, 
 seemed black and shapeless as the face of a tad 
 pole. The amazing truth burst upon Bleak. 
 Chuff and his paraders were wearing gas 
 masks. These were what they had carried in 
 their knapsacks. Indomitable Chuff, who had 
 foreseen everything! 
 
 "Poor Quimbleton," said Bleak. "This will 
 break his heart I" 
 
 "His neck too, I fancy," said one of the 
 others, pointing to the sky, and indeed one of 
 the three planes was seen falling tragically to 
 earth behind the tower of the City Hall. 
 
 The cloud of gas was rapidly drifting off 
 down the Boulevard, and through the exhilar 
 ating and delicious fog the Pan-Antis waved 
 their defiant banners unscathed. The progress 
 of the parade, however, was halted by the be 
 havior of the Bishop s horse, for which no 
 mask had been provided. The noble animal, 
 under this sudden and extraordinary stimulus. 
 
50 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 was almost human in its actions. At first it 
 stood, whinneying sharply, and pawing the air 
 with one forefoot as though feeling for the 
 brass rail, as one of Bleak s companions said. 
 It raised its head proudly, with open mouth and 
 expanded nostrils. Then, dashing off across 
 the broad street, it seemed eager to climb a 
 lamp-post, and only the fierce restraint of the 
 Bishop held it in. One of the chuffs (perhaps 
 only lukewarm in loyalty), ran up and offered 
 to give his mask to the horse, but was sternly 
 motioned back to the ranks by the infuriated 
 leader, who was wildly wrestling to gain con 
 trol of the exuberant animal. At last the horse 
 solved the problem by lying dowr; in the street, 
 on top of the Bishop, and going to sleep. An 
 ambulance, marked Federal Home for Inebri 
 ates, Cana, N. J., dashed up with shrilling 
 gong. This had been arranged by Quimbleton, 
 who had wired a requisition for an ambulance 
 to remove one intoxicated bishop. As the 
 Bishop was quite in command of his faculties, 
 the horse, after some delay, was hoisted into 
 the ambulance instead. The Bishop was given 
 a dusting, and the parade proceeded. The self- 
 control of the police alone averted prolonged 
 and frightful disorder, for when the conduct of 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 51 
 
 the horse was observed thousands of spectators 
 fought desperately to get through the ropes 
 and out into the fumes that still lingered in 
 wisps and whorls of green vapor. Others tore 
 off their coats and attempted to bag a few cubic 
 inches of the gas in these garments. But the 
 police, with a devotion to duty that was beyond 
 praise, kept the mob in check and themselves 
 bore the brunt of the lingering acid. Only one 
 man, who leaped from an office-window with an 
 improvised parachute, really succeeded in get 
 ting into the middle of the Boulevard, and he 
 refused to be ejected on the ground that he 
 was chief of the street-cleaning department. 
 This department, by the way, was given a re 
 markable illustration of the fine public spirit of 
 the citizens, for by three o clock in the after 
 noon two hundred thousand applications had 
 been received from those eager to act as volun 
 teer street-cleaners and help scour the Boule 
 vard after the passage of the great parade. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE GREAT WAR BEGINS 
 
 AS the echoes of the parade died away, 
 public excitement was roused to fever 
 by the discovery that evening of an 
 infernal machine in the City Hall. Leaning 
 against one of the great marble pillars in the 
 lobby of the building, a gleaming object (look 
 ing very much like a four-inch shrapnel shell) 
 was found by a vigilant patrolman. To his 
 horror he found it to be one of the much- 
 dreaded thermos bottles. Experts from the 
 Bureau of Rumbustibles were summoned, and 
 the bomb was carefully analyzed. Much to the 
 disappointment of the chief inspector, the dev 
 ilish ingredients of the explosive had been 
 spoiled by immersion in a pail of water, so his 
 examination was purely theoretical ; but it was 
 plain that the leading component of this hellish 
 mixture had been nothing less than gin, ani 
 mated by a fuse of lemon-peel. If the cylinder 
 had exploded, unquestionably every occupant 
 
 52 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 53 
 
 of the City Hall would have been intoxicated. 
 
 The conduct of the municipal officials in this 
 crisis was extremely courageous. No one 
 knew whether other articles of this kind might 
 not be concealed about the building, but the 
 Mayor and councilmen refused to go home, 
 and even assisted in the search for possible 
 bombs. Secret service men were called from 
 Washington, and went into consultation with 
 Bishop Chuff. It was a night of uproar. A 
 reign of terror was freely predicted, and many 
 prominent citizens sat up until after midnight 
 on the chance of discovering similar explosives 
 concealed about their premises. 
 
 The morning papers rallied rapidly to the 
 cause of threatened civilization. The Daily 
 Circumspect declared, editorially : 
 
 The alcoholsheviks have at last thrown down 
 the gauntlet. The news that the ginarchists have 
 placed a ginfernal machine in the very shrine of 
 law and order is tantamount to a declaration of 
 war upon sobriety as a whole. A canister of for 
 bidden design, filled with the deadliest gingredi- 
 ents, was found in the corridor leading to the 
 bureau of marriage licenses in the City Hall. 
 There must have been something more than ac 
 cident in its discovery just in this spot. Men of 
 thoughtful temper will do well to heed the sym 
 bolism of this incident. Plainly not only the 
 constitution of the United States is to be made 
 a quaffing-stock, but the very sanctity of the mar 
 riage bond is assailed. To this form of terrorism 
 there is but one answer. 
 
 In the meantime, Quimbleton had disap 
 peared. The house on Caraway Street was 
 
54 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 broken into by the police, but except for the 
 grape arbor and a great quantity of empty 
 bottles in the cellar, no clue was found. Ap 
 parently, however, the vanished ginarchist 
 (for so Chuff called him) had been writing 
 poetry before his departure. The following 
 rather inscrutable doggerel was found scrawled 
 on a piece of paper: 
 
 When Death doth reap 
 
 And Chuff is sickled, 
 He will not keep: 
 
 He was never pickled. 
 
 For Bishop Chuff 
 
 This is ill cheer: 
 .That Time will force him 
 
 To the bier. 
 
 And when he stands 
 
 On his last legs 
 Then Death will drain him 
 
 To the dregs. 
 
 So when Chuff croaks 
 Bury him on a high hill 
 
 For he s a hoax 
 Et pr&terea nihil! 
 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 55 
 
 But Bishop Chuff was not the man to take 
 these insults tamely. His first act was to call 
 together the legislature of the State in special 
 session, and the following act was rushed 
 through : 
 
 AN ACT 
 
 Severing relations with Nature, and amending the 
 principles and processes of the same in so far as they 
 contravene the Constitution of the United States and 
 the tenets of the Pan-Antis: 
 
 WHEREAS, in accordance with the Dec 
 laration of Gindependence, it may become nec 
 essary for a people to dissolve the alcoholic 
 bands which have connected them with one an 
 other and to assume among the powers of the 
 earth the sobriety to which the laws of pes 
 simism entitle them, a decent disrespect to the 
 opinions of drinkers requires that they should 
 declare the causes which impel them to drouth. 
 
 WHEREAS we hold these truths to be self- 
 evident, that all men are created sober, and 
 are endowed with certain inalienable rights, 
 such as Life, Grievances, and the Pursuit of 
 Other People s Happiness. Whenever any 
 form of amusement becomes destructive of 
 these ends, it is the right of the Pan-Antis to 
 
56 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 abolish it. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that 
 beverages long established should not be abol 
 ished for light and transient causes. But 
 when it is evident that Nature herself is in 
 conspiracy against the Constitution of the 
 United States, and that millions of so-called 
 human beings have found in forbidden tipples 
 a cause for mirth and merriment, it is time to 
 call a halt to malt, and have no parley with 
 barley. 
 
 WHEREAS it has frequently and re 
 grettably been evidenced that Nature is a sot 
 at heart, by reason of her deplorably lax mor 
 als. Painful as it is to make the admission, 
 there are many of her apparently innocent 
 fruits and plants that are susceptible, by the 
 unlawful processes of fermentation and effer 
 vescence, of transformation into alcoholic liq 
 uid. Science tells us that this abominable 
 form of activity to which Nature is privy is in 
 reality a form of decomposition or putrefac 
 tion; but willful men will hardly be restrained 
 by science in their illicit pursuit of frivolity. 
 
 WHEREAS Nature (hereinafter referred 
 to as The Enemy) has been guilty of repeated 
 ruptures of the Constitution of the United 
 States, having permitted the juice of apples to 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 57 
 
 ferment into cider, having encouraged sedi- 
 jtious effervescence on the part of gooseberries, 
 currants, raisins, grapes and similar conspira 
 tors; having fomented outrageous yeastiness 
 in hops, malt, rye, barley and other grains and 
 fodders, I 
 
 THEREFORE be it enacted, and it hereby 
 is, that all relations with the Enemy are hereby 
 and henceforward suspended; and any citizen 
 of the United States having commerce with 
 Nature, or giving her aid and comfort or en 
 couragement in her atrocious alcoholshevik 
 designs on human dignity, be, and hereby is, 
 guilty of treason and lese-sobriety. 
 
 BE IT ALSO enacted, and it hereby is, that 
 the principle of fermentation is forbidden in 
 the territory of the United States; and all 
 plants, herbs, legumes, vegetables, fruits and 
 foliage showing themselves capable of produc 
 ing effervescent juices or liquids in which bub 
 bles and gases rise to the top be, and hereby 
 are, confiscated, eradicated and removed from 
 the surface of the soil. And all the laws of 
 Nature inconsistent with the principle of this 
 Act be and hereby are repealed and rendered 
 null and inconclusive. 
 
 IT IS HOPED that this suspension of rela- 
 
58 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 tions with Nature will operate as a sharp re 
 buke, and bring her to reason. It is not the 
 sense of this Act to withhold from the Enemy 
 all hope of a future reconciliation, should she 
 cast off the habits that have made her a men 
 ace. We have no quarrel with Nature as a 
 whole. But there is a certain misguided 
 clique, the dandelions and gooseberries and 
 other irresponsible plants, which must be hu 
 miliated. We do not presume to suggest to 
 Nature any alteration or modification of her 
 necessary institutions. But who can claim 
 that the principle of fermentation, which she 
 has arrogated to herself, is necessary to her 
 health and happiness? This Intolerable 
 Thing, of which Nature has shown us the ugly 
 mug, this menace of combined intrigue and 
 force, must be crushed, with proud punctilio. 
 AND FOR THE strict enforcement of this 
 Act, the Pan-Antis are authorized and em 
 powered to organize expeditionary forces, by 
 recruitment or (if necessary) by conscription 
 and draft, to proceed into the territory of the 
 enemy, lay waste and ravage all dandelions, 
 gooseberries and other unlawful plants. Until 
 this is accomplished Nature shall be and hereby 
 is declared a barred zone, in which civilians 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 59 
 
 and non-combatants pass at their own peril; 
 and all citizens not serving with the expedi 
 tionary forces shall remain within city and 
 village limits until the territory of Nature Is 
 made safe for sobriety. 
 
 This document, having been signed by the 
 Governor, became law, and thousands of peo 
 ple who were about to leave town for their va 
 cation were held up at the railway stations. 
 Nature was declared under martial law. 
 There were many who held that the Act, while 
 admirable in principle, did not go far enough 
 in practice. For instance, it was argued, the 
 detestable principle of fermentation was due 
 in great part to the influence of the sun upon 
 vegetable matter; and it was suggested that 
 this heavenly body should be abolished. Oth 
 ers, pointing out that this was a matter that 
 ,would take some time, advanced the theory that 
 large tracts of open country should be shielded 
 ,from the sun s rays by vast tents or awnings. 
 Bishop Chuff, with his customary perspicacity, 
 made it plain that one of the chief causes of 
 temptation was hot weather, which causes im 
 moderate thirst. In order to lessen the amount 
 of thirst in the population he suggested that it 
 
6o IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 migKt be feasible to shift the axis of the earth, 
 so that the climate of the United States would 
 Jbecome perceptibly cooler and the torrid zone 
 would be transferred to the area of the North 
 Pole. This would have the supreme advan 
 tage of melting all the northern ice-cap and 
 providing the temperate belts with a new sup 
 ply of fresh water. It would be quite easy 
 (the Bishop insisted) to tilt the earth on its 
 axis if everything heavy on the surface of the 
 United States were moved up to Hudson s Bay. 
 Accordingly he began to make arrangements 
 to have the complete files of the Congressional 
 Record moved to the far north in endless 
 freight trains. 
 
 Dunraven Bleak, a good deal exhausted by 
 his efforts to keep all these matters carefully 
 reported in the columns of the Evening Bal 
 loon, was ready to take his vacation. As a 
 newspaper man he was able to get a passport to 
 go into the country, on the pretext of observing 
 the movements of the troops of the Pan-An- 
 tis, who were vigorously attacking the dande 
 lion fields and gooseberry vineyards. He had 
 already sent his wife and children down to the 
 seashore, in the last refugee train which had 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 61 
 
 left the city before Nature was declared out 
 law. 
 
 It was a hot morning , and having wound up 
 his work at the office he was sitting in a small 
 lunchroom having a, shrimp salad sandwich 
 and a glass of milk. The street outside was 
 thronged with great motor ambulances rum 
 bling in from the suburbs, carrying the wilted 
 remains of berries and fruits which had been 
 dug up by the furious legions of Chuff. These 
 were hastily transported to the municipal can 
 nery where they were made into jams and pre^ 
 serves with all possible speed, before fermenta 
 tion could set in. Bleak saw them pass with 
 saddened eyes. 
 
 A beautiful gray motor car drew up at the 
 curb, and honked vigorously. The proprietor 
 of the lunchroom, thinking that possibly the 
 chauffeur wanted some sandwiches, left the 
 cash register and crossed the pavement eag 
 erly. Every eye in the restaurant was turned 
 ,upon the glittering limousine, whose panels of 
 dove-throat gray shone with a steely lustre. 
 In a moment the proprietor returned with a 
 large basket and a small folded paper, looking 
 puzzled. He glanced about the room, and ap 
 proached Bleat. 
 
62 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 "I guess you re the guy," he said, and handed 
 the editor a note on which was scrawled in 
 pencil 
 
 To the Man with a Penetrating Gaze 
 Who Has Just Spilled Some Shrimp Salad 
 On His Palm Beach Trousers 
 
 Bleak, after removing the shrimp, opened the 
 
 paper. Inside he read 
 
 Please bring two dozen rye-tongue sand 
 wiches and as much shrimp salad as the 
 basket will hold. Am famished. 
 
 QUIMBLETON. 
 
 He looked at the restaurateur in surprise. 
 
 "The lady said you were to get the grub and 
 put it in this basket," said the latter. 
 
 "The lady?" inquired Bleak. 
 
 ^The dame in the car," said Isidor, owner 
 of the Busy Wasp Lunchroom. 
 
 Bleak obeyed orders. He filled the basket 
 with tongue sandwiches and a huge platter of 
 shrimp salad, paid the check, and carried the 
 burden to the door of the motor. 
 
 At the wheel sat a damsel of extraordinary 
 beauty. The massive proportions of the enor 
 mous car only accentuated the perfection of 
 her streamline figure. Her chassis was ad- 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 63 
 
 mirable; she was upholstered in a sports suit 
 of fawn-colored whipcord; and her sherry- 
 brown eyes were unmodified by any dimming 
 devices. Before Bleak could say anything she 
 cried eagerly, "Get in, Mr. Bleak! I ve been 
 looking for you everywhere. What a happy 
 moment this is!" 
 
 Bleak handed in the basket. "Quimble- 
 ton " he began. 
 
 "I know," she said. "I m taking you to him. 
 Poor fellow, he is in great peril. Get in, 
 please." 
 
 By the time Bleak was in the seat beside her, 
 the car was already in motion. 
 
 "You have your passport?" she said, steer 
 ing through the tangled traffic. 
 
 "Yes," he said. He could not help stealing 
 <a sidelong glance at this bewitching creature. 
 Her dainty and vivacious face, just now a trifle 
 sunburnt, was fixed resolutely upon the vehi 
 cles ahead. On the rim of the big steering 
 wheel her small gloved hands gave an impres 
 sion of great capability. Bleak thought that 
 her profile seemed oddly familiar. 
 
 "Haven t I seen you before?" he said. 
 
 "Very possibly. Your newspaper printed 
 
64 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 my picture the other day, with some rather un 
 complimentary remarks." 
 
 Bleak was nonplussed. 
 
 "Very stupid of me/ he said, "but I don t 
 seem to recall " 
 
 "I am Miss Chuff/* she said calmly. 
 
 The editor s brain staggered. 
 
 "Miss Theodolinda Chuff? he said, in 
 amazement. He recalled some satirical edi 
 torials the Balloon had printed concerning the 
 activities of the Chuffs, and wondered if he 
 were being kidnaped for court-martial by the 
 Pan-Antis. Evidently the use of Quimble- 
 ton s name had been a ruse. 
 
 "It was unfair of you to make use of Quim- 
 bleton s name to get me into your hands/ he 
 said angrily. 
 
 Miss Chuff turned a momentary gaze of 
 amusement upon him, as they passed a large 
 tractor drawing several truckloads of goose 
 berry plants. 
 
 "You don t understand," she said demurely. 
 "You may remember that Mr. Quimbleton s 
 card gave his name as associate director of the 
 Happiness Corporation?" 
 
 "Yes," said Bleak. 
 
 "I am the Director," she said. 
 
THE CHUFFS WERE RUTHLESS ONCE 
 THEIR PASSIONS WERE AROUSED. 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 67 
 
 "You? But how can that be? Why, your 
 father" 
 
 "That s just why. Any one who had to live 
 with Father would be sure to take the opposite 
 side. He s a Pan-Anti. I m a Pan-Pro. 
 Those poems I have written for him were 
 merely a form of camouflage. Besides, they 
 were so absurd they were sure to do harm to 
 the cause. That s why I wrote them. I ll ex 
 plain it all to you a little later." 
 
 At this moment they were held up by an 
 armed guard of chuffs, stationed at the city 
 Umits. These saluted respectfully on seeing 
 the Bishop s daughter, but examined Bleak s 
 passport with care. Then the car passed on 
 into the suburbs. 
 
 As they neared the fields of actual battle, 
 Bleak was able to see something of the embit 
 tered nature of the conflict. In the hot white 
 sunlight of the summer morning platoons of 
 Pan-Antis could be seen marching across the 
 fields, going up from the rest centers to the 
 firing line. In one place a shallow trench had 
 been dug, from which the chuffs were firing 
 upon a blackberry hedge at long range. One 
 by one the unprincipled berries were being 
 picked off by expert marksmen. The dusty 
 
68 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 highway was stained with ghastly rivulets and 
 dribbles of scarlet juices. At a crossroads 
 they came upon a group of chuffs who had 
 shown themselves to be conscientious objec 
 tors: these were being escorted to an intern 
 ment camp where they would be horribly pun 
 ished by confinement to lecture rooms with 
 Chautauqua lecturers. War is always cruel, 
 and even non-combatants did not escape. In 
 the heat of combat, the neutrality of an orchard 
 of plum trees had been violated, and wagon- 
 loads of the innocent fruit were being carried 
 away into slavery and worse than death. A 
 young apple tree was standing in front of a 
 firing squad, and Bleak closed his eyes rather 
 than watch the tragic spectacle. The apples 
 were all green, and too young to ferment, but 
 the chuffs were ruthless once their passions 
 [were roused. 
 
 They passed through the battle zone, and 
 into a strip of country where pine woods flour 
 ished on a sandy soil. The fragrant breath of 
 sun-warmed balsam came down about them, 
 jand Miss Chuff let out the motor as though to 
 escape from the scene of carnage they had just 
 witnessed. 
 
 -Whither are we bound?" asked the editor, 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 69 
 
 ,with pardonable curiosity, as their tires 
 hummed over a smooth road. 
 
 "Cana, New Jersey," said Miss Chuff, 
 "where poor Quimbleton is in hiding. He is 
 in very sore straits. He narrowly escaped 
 capture after the parade the other day. I man 
 aged to get him smuggled out of the city in the 
 same ambulance that carried Father s horse. 
 The horse was drunk and Quim was sober. 
 Wasn t that an irony of fate? But I prom 
 ised to tell you how I became associated with 
 the Happiness Corporation." 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE TREACHERY OF MISS CHUFF 
 
 MY story/ said Miss Chuff, as the car 
 slid along the road, "is rich in 
 pathos. My father, as you can 
 imagine, is an impossible man to live with. 
 My poor mother was taken to an asylum years 
 ago. Her malady takes a curious form: she 
 is never violent, but spends all her time in por 
 ing over books, magazines and papers. Every 
 time she finds the word husband in print she 
 crosses it out with blue pencil. 
 
 "From my earliest days I was accustomed to 
 hear very little else but talk about liquor. The 
 fairy tales that most children are allowed to 
 enjoy merely as stories were explained to me 
 by my father as allegories bearing upon the 
 sinister seductions of drink. Little Red Rid 
 ing Hood and the Wolf, for instance, became 
 a symbol of young womanhood pursued by 
 the devouring Bronx cocktail. The princess 
 
 from whose mouth came toads and snakes was 
 
 70 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 71 
 
 (of course) a princess under the influence of 
 creme de menthe. Cinderella was a young 
 girl who had been brought low by taking a 
 dash of brandy in her soup. Every dragon, 
 with which good fairy tales are liberally pro 
 vided, was the Demon Rum. It is really amaz 
 ing what stirring prohibition propaganda fairy 
 tales contain if you know how to interpret 
 them. 
 
 "All this kind of palaver naturally roused 
 my childish curiosity as to the subject of in 
 toxicants. But, like a docile daughter, I fell 
 into the career marked out for me by my 
 father. I became a militant for the Pan-An- 
 tis. I distributed tracts by the million ; I wrote 
 a little poem on the idea that the gates of hell 
 are swinging doors with slats. I can honestly 
 say that I never felt any real hankering for 
 liquor until it was prohibited altogether. That 
 is a curious feature of human nature, that as 
 soon as you forbid a thing it becomes irre 
 sistibly alluring. You remember the story of 
 Mrs. Bluebeard. 
 
 "It occurred to me, after booze had gone, 
 that it was a sad thing that I, Bishop Chuff s 
 daughter, who was devoting my life to the pro 
 hibition cause, should have not the slightest 
 
72 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 knowledge of the nature of this hideous evil 
 we had been pursuing. I brooded over this a 
 great deal, and fell into a melancholy state. 
 The thought came to me, there must be some 
 virtue in drink, or why would so many people 
 have stubbornly contested its abolition? It 
 would be too long a story to tell you all the de 
 tails, but it was at that time that I first became 
 aware of my psychic gift." 
 
 "Your psychic gift?" queried Bleak, won 
 dering. 
 
 She turned her bright beer-brown eyes upon 
 him gravely. "Yes," she said, "I am an alco 
 holic medium. It is the latest and most supe 
 rior form of spiritualism. By gazing upon 
 crystal particularly upon an empty tumbler 
 I am able to throw myself into a trance in 
 which I can communicate with departed spir 
 its. A good drink does not die, you know : its 
 soul hovers radiantly on the twentieth plane, 
 and through the occult power of a medium 
 those who loved it in life can get in touch with 
 it once more. Through these trances of mine 
 I have been privileged to put many bereaved 
 ones in communication with their dear departed 
 spirits. To hear the table-rappings and the 
 shouts of ecstasy you would perceive that a 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 73 
 
 great deal of the anguish of separation is as 
 suaged." 
 
 "Do you often have these trances?" said 
 Bleak, with a certain wistfulness. 
 
 "They are not hard to induce/ she said. 
 "All that is necessary for a seance is a round 
 table, preferably of some highly polished 
 brown wood, a brass rail for the worshipers 
 to put their feet on, and an empty tumbler to 
 concentrate the power of yearning. If those 
 present all wish hard enough there is sure to 
 be a successful reunion with the Beyond." 
 
 "But surely," said the fascinated editor, 
 : "surely not any well, actual materialization?" 
 
 "Oh, no; but the communion of souls pro 
 duces quite sufficient results. You see, so 
 many fine spirits passed over at once, suddenly, 
 on that First of July, that the twentieth plane 
 is quite thronged with them, and they are just 
 as eager to come back as their friends could 
 be to welcome them. One good yearn deserves 
 another, as we say. The only time when 
 these seances fail is when some inharmonious 
 soul is present some personality not com 
 pletely en rapport with the spirit of the gather 
 ing. I remember, for instance, an occasion 
 when a gentleman from Kentucky had most 
 
74 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 ardently desired to get into communication 
 with the astrals of some mint juleps he had 
 loved very deeply in life. Everything seemed 
 propitious, but though I struggled hard I sim 
 ply could not get the julep spirit to descend 
 to our mortal plane. Finally I made inquiry 
 and found that one of the guests was a root- 
 beer manufacturer. Of course you may say 
 that was petty jealousy on the side of the de 
 parted, but even these vanished spirits have 
 their human phases." 
 
 She was silent for a moment. 
 
 "You can imagine," she said, "what a per 
 plexity I was in when I discovered these hith 
 erto unsuspected powers in myself. Was I 
 justified in putting them to use, for the good 
 of humanity? And wasn t there a certain pa 
 thetic significance in the fact that I, the daugh 
 ter of the man who had done so much to put 
 these poor lonely spirits into the Beyond, 
 should be made their sole channel of reunion 
 with their bereaved and sorrowing adorers? 
 In all his harangues, I had never heard my 
 Father attack anything but the actual drink 
 ing of liquor. This form of communication 
 seemed to me to solve so many problems. And 
 it was in this way that I first met Virgil." 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 75 
 
 Virgil? 1 said Bleak, absent-mindedly, for 
 he was wondering whether he might be privi 
 leged to attend one of these seances. 
 
 "Virgil Quimbleton," she said. "In the 
 early days of my trances I was much haunted 
 by the spirit of a certain cocktail blended, I 
 believe, of champagne and angostura which 
 insisted that it would be inconsolable until it 
 could get in contact with Quimbleton and re 
 assure him as to the certainty of its existence 
 beyond mortal bars. The deep affection and 
 old comradeship evidently cherished between 
 Quimbleton and this cocktail was very touch 
 ing, and I was more than happy to be able to 
 effect their reunion. It was for this reason 
 that Quimbleton, under a careful disguise, 
 came to live next door to us on Caraway Street. 
 I would go out into the garden and have a 
 trance; Quimbleton, poor bereaved fellow, 
 .would sit by me in the dusk and revel with the 
 spirit of his dear comrade. This common bond 
 soon ripened into love, and we became be 
 trothed." 
 
 She stripped off one of her gloves and 
 showed Bleak a beautiful amethyst ring. 
 
 "This is my engagement ring/ she said. 
 "It s a very precious symbol, for Quimbleton 
 
76 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 explained to me that the amethyst is a talis 
 man against drunkenness. I looked it up in 
 the dictionary, and found that he was right. 
 As long as I wear this ring the departed spir 
 its have no ill effect upon me. But I some 
 times wonder," she added with a sigh, 
 "whether Virgil really loves me for myself, or 
 only as a kind of swinging door into the spirit 
 world." 
 
 The car was now approaching an open belt 
 of country. Behind them lay the dark line of 
 pine woods; far off, across a wide shimmer of 
 sun and sandy fields sweetened by purple clover 
 and flowering grasses, was a blue ribbon of 
 sea. But even in this remote shelf of New: 
 Jersey the implacable hand of Chuff was at 
 work. From a meadow near by they saw an 
 observation balloon going up and the wind 
 lass unwinding its cable. A huge paraboloid 
 breath-detector (or breathoscope) was sta 
 tioned on a low ridge. This terribly ingenious 
 machine, which had just been invented by the 
 pan-antis, records the vibrations of any alco 
 holic breath within five miles, and indicates on 
 a sensitive dial the exact direction and distance 
 of the breath. It was only too evident that 
 the search for Quimbleton was going forward 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 77 
 
 with fierce system. In the shelter of an old 
 barn they heard a cork-popping machine-gun 
 going off rapidly. This was one of the most 
 atrocious ruses employed by the chuffs in their 
 search for conscientious drinkers. The gun 
 fires no projectile, but produces a pleasant de 
 tonation like the swift and repeated drawing 
 of corks. Set up in the neighborhood of any 
 bottle-habited man, it will invariably lure him 
 into an approach. Near it was an ice-tinkling 
 device, iised for the same purposes of strata 
 gem. 
 
 "Poor Virgil!" said Miss Chuff with a sigh. 
 "I m afraid he has had a grievous ordeal. We 
 must run carefully now, so as not to give him 
 away." 
 
 Fortunately Miss Chuff s presence at the 
 wheel, and Bleak s credentials as war cor 
 respondent, enabled them to pass several scout 
 ing parties of chuff uhlans without suspicion. 
 In this way they neared the extensive grounds 
 surrounding the Federal Home for Inebriates, 
 Cana, N. J. This magnificent Gothic build 
 ing, already showing some signs of decay from 
 ,two years of vacancy, stands on a slight emi 
 nence among what the real estate agents call 
 shade/ with a fine and carefully calcu- 
 
78 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 lated view over one of the largest bodies of un- 
 drinkable fluid known to man, the Atlantic 
 Ocean. 
 
 The car turned into a narrow sandy road 
 skirting one side of the walled park. This by- 
 (way was completely screened from outside ob 
 servation by the high bulwark of the Home 
 and by thick masses of rhododendron shrub 
 bery. At a bend in the road Miss Chuff halted 
 the motor, and motioned Bleak to descend. 
 
 "Now we will look for the persecuted pa 
 triot," she said. 
 
 Bleak took charge of the basket of food, and 
 Miss Chuff drew a small rope ladder from a 
 locker under the driver s seat. This she threw 
 deftly up to the top of the wall, hooking it upon 
 the iron spikes. Bleak politely ascended first, 
 and they scaled the wall, dropping down into 
 a tangle of underbrush. 
 
 "I left him in here somewhere," said the girl, 
 as they set off along a narrow path. "This was 
 obviously the best place to hide, as, except for 
 Father s horse, the Home hasn t had an inmate 
 for two years. There was some talk of Father 
 making this the headquarters of the Great Gen 
 eral Strafe in this campaign, but I don t believe 
 they have done so yet." 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 79 
 
 : "Hush!" said Bleak;. *What is that I 
 hear?" 
 
 A dull, regular, recurrent sound, a sort of 
 rasping sigh, stole through the thickets. They 
 iboth listened in some agitation. 
 
 "Sounds a little like an airplane, with one 
 .engine missing," said Bleak. 
 
 "Can it be the sea, the surf breaking on the 
 and?" asked Miss Chuff. 
 
 This seemed probable, and they accepted it 
 as such; but as they pushed on through the 
 tangle of saplings and bushes the sound seemed 
 to localize itself on their left. Bleak peeped 
 cautiously through a leafy screen, and then 
 beckoned the girl to his side. They looked 
 down into a warm sandy hollow, overgrown 
 and sheltered by a large rhododendron with 
 knotted branches and dry, shiny leaves. Curled 
 up on the sand bank, in the unconsciously pa 
 thetic posture of sheer exhaustion, lay Quim- 
 bleton, asleep. A droning snore buzzed heav 
 ily from where he lay. 
 
 "Poor Virgil!" said Miss Chuff. "How 
 tired he looks." 
 
 He did, indeed. The gray and silver uni 
 form was ragged and soil-stained; his boots 
 were white with dust; his face was unshaved, 
 
80 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 though a razor lay beside him, and it seemed 
 that he had been trying to strop it on his Sam 
 Browne belt. His pipe, filled but unlit, had 
 fallen from his weary fingers ; beside him was 
 an empty match-box and tragic evidence of a 
 number of unsuccessful attempts to get fire 
 from a Swedish tandsticker. Crumpled un 
 der the elbow of the indomitable idealist was 
 a much-thumbed copy of The Bartender s, 
 Benefactor, or How to Mix 1001 Drinks, in 
 which he had been seeking imaginary solace 
 when he fell asleep. Near his head ticked a: 
 pocket alarm clock, which they found set to 
 gong at two o clock. 
 
 "It seems a shame to wake him," said 
 Theodolinda. Her brown eyes liquefied and 
 effervesced with tenderness, until (as Bleak 
 thought to himself) they were quite the color 
 of brandy and soda, without too much soda. 
 
 The sleeper stirred, and a radiant smile 
 passed over his unconscious features a smile 
 of pure and heavenly beatitude. 
 
 "Say when, Jerry," he murmured. 
 
 "He s dreaming!" cried Theodolinda. "See, 
 his soul is far away!" 
 
 "Two years away," said Bleak enviously. 
 "Let him go to it while we reconnoiter. I be- 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 81 
 
 lieve in the Prevention of Cruelty to Sleep. 
 He didn t intend to wake up just yet, you can 
 see by the alarm clock." 
 
 "That s a good idea/ she agreed. "I d like 
 to find out whether we re in any immediate 
 danger of pursuit." 
 
 They set the basket of food beside Quitn- 
 bleton, and carefully moved on through the 
 strip of young trees until they neared the 
 broad lawns that surround the Home for 
 Inebriates. Miss Chuff, spying delicately 
 through a leafy chink, gave a cry of alarm. 
 
 "Heavens!" she said. "The place is full of 
 people !" 
 
 To their amazement, they saw the white ban 
 ner of the Pan-Antis floating on one of the 
 towers of the building, and the grounds about 
 the Home blackened with a moving throng. 
 Though they were too far distant to discern 
 any details of the crowd, it was plain (from 
 the curious to-and-fro of the gathering, like 
 the seething of an ant-hill) that its units were 
 imbued with some strong emotion. At that 
 distance it might have been anger, or fear, or 
 (more appropriate to the surroundings) drink. 
 
 They hurried back to Quimbleton s hiding 
 place, and found him already sitting up and 
 
82 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRYi 
 
 attacking the shrimp salad. Bleak courteously 
 averted his eyes from the affectionate embrace 
 of the lovers. 
 
 "Bless your heart for this grub/ said Quim- 
 J)leton to Bleak. "As soon as I smelt that 
 ^hrimp salad I woke up. Do you know, I 
 haven t eaten for two days." 
 
 "Oh Virgil!" cried Theodolinda, "what does 
 this mean all the crowd round the Home? 
 Mr. Bleak and I looked up there, and the place 
 is simply packed. You can t stay undiscov 
 ered long with all those people around. Who 
 are they, anyway?" 
 
 Quimbleton had to delay his reply until 
 deglutition had mastered a bulky consignment 
 of shrimp. His large, resolute face, while 
 somewhat marred by hardships, showed no 
 trace of panic. 
 
 "I know all about it," he said. "It is the 
 latest step on the route of all evil taken by that 
 fanatical person whom I shall presently call 
 father-in-law. He is not content with arrest 
 ing people found drinking. This morning 
 they began to seize people who think about 
 drinking. Any one who is guilty of thinking, 
 in an affirmative way, about liquor, is to be 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 83 
 
 interned in the Federal Home for a course in 
 mental healing." 
 
 "But how can they tell ?." asked Bleak, nerv 
 ously. 
 
 "I don t know," said Quimbleton. "Perhaps 
 they have a kind of Third Degree, flash a sei- 
 del of beer on you suddenly, and if you make 
 an involuntary gesture of pleasure, you re con 
 victed. Perhaps they ve invented an instru 
 ment that tells what you think about. Per 
 haps they just arrest you on suspicion. At any 
 rate all the folks who have been thinking about 
 booze are being collected and sent over here. 
 I know because I ve seen most of my friends 
 arriving all morning. I suppose they ll get me 
 next. I don t much care as long as I ve had 
 something to eat." 
 
 Virgil, dear," said Miss Chuff, "you 
 -Mustn t give up hope now, after being so brave. 
 You know I ll stand by you to the end to the 
 very dregs." 
 
 "If only I had some disguise," said Quim 
 bleton sadly, "it wouldn t be so bad. But I 
 must confess that these breath detectors and 
 other unscrupulous instruments they use have 
 gather unnerved me." 
 
 Bleak suddenly remembered, and thrust his 
 
84 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 hand in his hip-pocket. He pulled out the 
 hank of white beard that had floated down 
 from the airplane a few days before. It was 
 much crumpled, but intact. 
 
 "Good man !" cried Quimbleton. "My jolly 
 old beard!" He clapped it onto his face and 
 beamed hopefully. "Now, if there were some 
 way of getting rid of this tell-tale uni 
 form " 
 
 They discussed this problem at some length, 
 sitting in the sheltered bowl of sand, while 
 Quimbleton finished his lunch. Bleak s sug 
 gestion of stitching together a sort of Robin 
 son Crusoe suit of rhododendron leaves did not 
 meet Quimbleton s approval. 
 
 "No Robinson trousseau for me," he said. 
 "I thought of pasting together the leaves of 
 The Bartender s Benefactor, but I m afraid 
 that would be rather damning. No, I don t 
 see what to do." 
 
 "I have it!" said Theodolinda, gleefully. 
 "I ve got a sewing kit in the car we ll unrip 
 the upholstery and I can stitch you up a suit 
 in no time. At least it will be better than the 
 C. P. H. get-up, which would take you in front 
 of a firing squad if it were seen." 
 
 This seemed a good idea. Bleak volun- 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 85 
 
 teered to escort Miss Chuff back to the car and 
 help her rip the covers off the cushions. This 
 was done, and they carried back to Quimble- 
 ton s hiding place many yards of pale lilac col 
 ored twill (or whatever it is) and a flask of 
 iced tea. In spite of distant sounds of war 
 fare, the time passed pleasantly enough. Miss 
 Chuff cut out and stitched assiduously ; Quim- 
 bleton and Bleak, under her directions, sewed 
 on the buttons snipped from the uniform. 
 Birds twittered in the greenery about them, 
 and they all felt something of the elation of a 
 picnic when the garments were done and Quim- 
 bleton retired to a neighboring copse to make 
 the change. The other two were too seriously 
 concerned for his welfare to laugh when they 
 saw him. 
 
 "Splendid !" cried Bleak. "Now you can lie 
 down in Miss Chuff s car and if any one looks 
 in they ll just think you re part of the furnish 
 ings/ 
 
 "And I think we d better get back to the car 
 without delay," said Theodolinda. "I d like to 
 get you out of this danger zone as soon as pos 
 sible." 
 
 They hastened back to the wall, scaled it 
 with the rope ladder and stared in dismay. 
 
86 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRV 
 
 The car had gone. They could see it far down 
 the road, guarded by a group of Pan-Antis. A 
 cordon of the enemy had been thrown com 
 pletely round the Homeland escape was im 
 possible. Worse still, the treachery of Miss 
 Chuff must have been discovered, and they 
 trembled to think what retaliation the Bishop 
 might devise. 
 
 In this moment of crisis Quimbleton re 
 gained his customary hardihood. Quilted in 
 his lilac garments, with the white hedge of 
 beard tossing in the breeze, he looked the dash 
 ing leader. 
 
 "There s only one thing to do," he said. 
 "We re surrounded in this place. We must go 
 to the Home, make common cause with the 
 (prisoners there, and lead them in a sudden 
 sally of escape." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 DEPARTED SPIRITS 
 
 IF Bishop Chuff desired to make people stop 
 thinking about alcohol, his plan of seiz 
 ing them and shutting them up in the 
 grounds of the Federal Home at Cana was a 
 quaint way of attaining this purpose. For all 
 the victims, who had been suddenly arrested in 
 the course of their daily concerns, accused (be 
 fore a rum-head court martial) of harboring 
 illicit alcoholic desires, and driven over to Cana 
 in crowded motor-trucks, now had very little 
 else to brood about. In the golden light and 
 fragrance of a summer afternoon, here they 
 were surrounded by all the apparatus to re 
 strain alcoholic excess, and not even the slight 
 est exhilaration of spirit to justify the depres 
 sing scene. It was annoying to see frequent 
 notices such as: This Entrance for Brandy- 
 Topers; or Vodka Patients in This Ward; or 
 
 Inmates Must Not Bite Off the Door-Knobs. 
 
 87 
 
88 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 It seemed carrying a jest too far when these 
 citizens, most of whom had not even smelt a 
 drink in two years, found themselves billeted 
 into padded cells and confronted by rows 
 of strait- jackets. Moreover, the Home had 
 lain unused for many months: it was dusty, 
 dilapidated, and of a moldy savor. Some of 
 the unwilling visitors, finding that the grounds 
 included a strip of sandy beach, took their or 
 deal with reasonable philosophy. "Since we 
 are to be slaves/ they said, "at least let s have 
 some serf bathing." And donning (with a 
 shudder) the rather gruesome padded bathing 
 suits they found in the lockers, they went off 
 for a swim. Others, of a humorous turn, de 
 rived a certain rudimentary amusement in 
 studying the garden marked Reserved for Pa 
 tients with Insane Delusions, where they found 
 a very excellent relief-model of the battle 
 ground of the Marne, laid out by a former in 
 mate who had imagined himself to be General 
 Joffre. But most of them stood about in 
 groups, talking bitterly. 
 
 Quimbleton, therefore, found a receptive au 
 dience for his Spartacus scheme of organizing 
 this band of downtrodden victims into a fight 
 ing force. He gathered them into the dining- 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 89 
 
 hall of the Home and addressed them in spir 
 ited language. 
 
 "My friends" (he said), "unaccustomed as 
 I am to public speaking, I feel it my duty to 
 administer a few remarks on the subject of our 
 present situation. 
 
 "And the first thought that comes to my 
 mind, candidly, is this, that we must give 
 Bishop Chuff credit for a quality we never 
 imagined him to possess. That quality, gen 
 tlemen, is a sense of humor. I hear some dis 
 sent; and yet it seems to me to be somewhat 
 humorous that this gathering, composed of 
 men who were accustomed, in the good old 
 days, to carry their liquor like gentlemen, 
 should now, when they have been cold sober 
 ,for two years, be incarcerated in this humiliat 
 ing place, surrounded by the morbid relics of 
 those weaker souls who found their grog too 
 strong for them. 
 
 "I say therefore that we must give Bishop 
 Chuff credit for a sense of humor. It makes 
 him all the more deadly enemy. Yet I think 
 we will have the laugh on him yet, in a man 
 ner I shall presently describe. For the Bishop 
 has what may be denominated a single-tract 
 mind. He undoubtedly imagines that we will 
 
90 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 submit tamely to this outrage. He has sur 
 rounded us with guards. He expects us to be 
 meek. In my experience, the meek inherit the 
 dearth. Let us not be meek!" 
 
 There was a shout of applause, and Quim- 
 bleton s salient of horse-hair beard waved tri 
 umphantly as he gathered strength. His burly 
 figure in the lilac upholstering dominated the 
 audience. He went on: 
 
 "And what is our crime? That we have 
 nourished, in the privacy of our own intellects, 
 treasonable thoughts or desires concerning al 
 cohol! Gentlemen, it is the first principle of 
 common law that a man cannot be indicted for 
 thinking a crime. There must be some overt 
 act, some evidence of illegal intention. Can a 
 man be deprived of freedom for carrying con 
 cealed thoughts? If so, we might as well abol 
 ish the human mind itself. Which Bishop 
 Chuff and his flunkeys would gladly do, I doubt 
 not, for they themselves would lose nothing 
 thereby." 
 
 Vigorous clapping greeted this sally. 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," cried Quimbleton, 
 "though we follow a lost cause, and even 
 though the gooseberry and the raisin and the 
 apple be doomed, let us see it through with gal- 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 91 
 
 lantry ! The enemy has mobilized dreadful en 
 gines of war against us. Let us retort in kind. 
 He has tanks in the field let us retort with 
 tankards. They tell me there is a warship in 
 the offing, to shell us into submission. Very 
 well : if he has gobs, let us retort with goblets. 
 If he has deacons, let us parry him with de 
 canters. Chuff has put us here under the pre 
 text of being drunk. Very well : then let us be 
 drunk. Let us go down in our cups, not in our 
 saucers. Where there s a swill, there s a way ! 
 Let us be sot in our ways/ he added, sotto voce. 
 
 Terrific uproar followed this fine outburst. 
 Quimbleton had to calm the frenzy by gestur 
 ing for silence. 
 
 "I hear some natural queries," he said. 
 "Some one asks How? To this I shall pres 
 ently explain Here s how. Bear with me a 
 moment. 
 
 "My friends, it would be idle for us to at 
 tempt the great task before us relying merely 
 on ourselves. In such great crises it is neces 
 sary to call upon a Higher Power for strength 
 and succor. This is no mere brawl, no hap 
 hazard scuffle: it is the battle-ground if I 
 were jocosely minded I might say it is the bot 
 tle-ground of a great principle. If, gentle- 
 
92 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 men, I wished to harrow your souls, I would 
 ask you to hark back in memory to the fine old 
 days when brave men and lovely women sat 
 down at the same table with a glass of wine, 
 or a mug of ale, and no one thought any the 
 worse. I would ask you to remember the color 
 of the wine in the goblet, how it caught the 
 light, how merrily it twinkled with beaded bub 
 bles winking at the brim, as some poet has ob 
 served. If I wanted to harrow you, gentle 
 men, I would recall to you little tables, little 
 round tables, set out under the trees on the 
 lawn of some country inn, where the enchant 
 ing music of harp and fiddle twangled on the 
 summer air, where great bowls of punch 
 chimed gently as the lumps of ice knocked on 
 the thin crystal. The little tables were spread 
 under the trees, and then, later on, perhaps, 
 the customers were spread under the tables. I 
 would ask you to recall the manly seidel of 
 dark beer as you knew it, the bitter chill of it 
 as it went down, the simple felicity it induced 
 in the care-burdened mind. I could quote to 
 you poet after poet who has nourished his song 
 upon honest malt liquor. I need only think 
 of Mr. Masefield, who has put these manly 
 words in the mouth of his pirate mate: 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 93 
 
 Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some 
 
 are fond of French, 
 And some ll swallow tea and stuff fit only for 
 
 a wench, 
 \But I m for right Jamaica till I roll beneath the 
 
 bench! 
 
 Oh some are fond of fiddles and a song well 
 
 sung, 
 And some are all for music for to lilt upon the 
 
 tongue; 
 But mouths were made for tankards, and for 
 
 sucking at the bung! 
 
 This apparently artless oratory was begin 
 ning to have its effect. Loud huzzas filled the 
 hall. These touching words had evoked wist 
 ful memories hidden deep in every heart. Old 
 wounds were reopened and bled afresh. 
 
 Again Quimbleton had to call for silence. 
 
 "I will recite to you," he said, "a ditty that 
 I have composed myself. It is called A Chanty 
 of Departed Spirits" 
 
 In a voice tremulous with emotion he began : 
 
 The earth is grown puny and pallid, 
 
 The earth is grown gouty and gray, 
 For whiskey no longer is valid 
 
94 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 And wine has been voted away 
 As for beer, we no longer will swill it 
 
 In riotous rollicking spree; 
 The little hot dogs in the skillet 
 
 Will have to be sluiced down with tea. 
 
 O ales that were creamy like lather! 
 O beers that were foamy like suds! 
 
 fizz that I loved like a father! 
 
 fie on the drinks that are duds! 
 
 1 sat by the doors that were slatted 
 And the stuff had a surf like the sea 
 
 No vintage was anywhere vatted 
 Too strong for ventripotent me! 
 
 7 wallowed in waves that were tidal, 
 
 But yet I was never unmoored; 
 And after the twentieth seidel 
 
 My syllables still were assured. 
 I never was forced to cut cable 
 
 And drift upon perilous shores, 
 To get honie I was perfectly able, 
 
 Erect, or at least on all fours. 
 
 Although I was often some swiller, 
 
 1 never was fuddled or blowzed; 
 { My hand was still firm on the tiller, 
 
 No matter how deep I caroused; 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 95 
 
 But now they have put an embargo 
 On jazz-juice that tingles the spine, 
 
 We cant even cozen a cargo 
 Of harmless old gooseberry wine! 
 
 But no legislation can daunt us: 
 
 The drinks that we knew never die: 
 Their spirits will come back to haunt us 
 
 And whimper and hover near by. 
 The spookists insist that communion 
 
 Exists with the souls that we lose 
 And so we may count on reunion 
 
 With all that s immortal of Booze. 
 
 Those spirits we loved have departed 
 
 To some psychical twentieth plane; 
 But still we will not be downhearted, 
 
 We ll soon greet our loved ones again 
 To lighten our drouth and our tedium 
 
 Whenever our moments would sag, 
 We ll call in a spiritist medium 
 
 And go on a psychical jag! 
 
 As the frenzy of cheering died away, Quim- 
 bleton s face took on the glow of simple be- 
 nignance that Bleak had first observed at the 
 time of the julep incident in the Balloon office. 
 The flush of a warm, impulsive idealism over- 
 
96 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY. 
 
 spread his genial features. It was the face of 
 one who deeply loved his fellow-men. 
 
 "My friends," he said, "now I am able to 
 say, in all sincerity, Here s How. I have great 
 honor in presenting to you my betrothed fian 
 cee, Miss Theodolinda Chuff. Do not be 
 startled by the name, gentlemen. Miss Chuff, 
 the daughter of our arch-enemy, is wholly in 
 sympathy with us. She is the possessor (hap 
 pily for us) of extraordinary psychic powers. 
 I have persuaded her to demonstrate them for 
 our benefit. If you will follow my instruc 
 tions implicitly, you will have the good for 
 tune of witnessing an alcoholic seance." 
 
 Miss Chuff, very pale, but obviously glad 
 to put her spiritual gift at the disposal of her 
 lover, was escorted to the platform by Bleak. 
 The editor had been coached beforehand by 
 Quimbleton as to the routine of the seance. 
 
 "The first requirement," said Quimbleton 
 to the awe-struck gathering, "is to put your 
 selves in the proper frame of mind. For that 
 purpose I will ask you all to stand up, placing 
 one foot on the rung of a chair. Kindly imag 
 ine yourselves standing with one foot on a 
 brass rail. You will then summon to mind, 
 with all possible accuracy and vividness, the 
 
qtavwt 
 
 WH.L1RM1 
 
 WITH BLEAK PLAYING THE ROLE OP 
 CUSTOMER HE THEN WENT THROUGH 
 A PANTOMIME OF SERVING IMAGI 
 NARY DRINKS. 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 99 
 
 scenes of some bar-room which was once dear 
 to you. I will also ask you to concentrate 
 your mental faculties upon some beverage 
 which was once your favorite. Please re 
 hearse in imagination the entire ritual which 
 was once so familiar, from the inquiring look 
 of the bartender down to the final clang of the 
 cash-register. A visualization of the old free 
 lunch counter is also advisable. All these de 
 tails will assist the medium to trance herself." 
 Bleak in the meantime had carried a small 
 table on the platform, and placed an empty 
 glass upon it. Miss Chuff sat down at this 
 table, and gazed intently at the glass. Quim- 
 bleton produced a white apron from some 
 where, and tied it round his burly form. With 
 Bleak playing the role of customer he then 
 went through a pantomime of serving imag 
 inary drinks. His representation of the now 
 vanished type of the bartender was so admir 
 ably realistic that it brought tears to the eyes 
 of more than one in the gathering. The ed 
 itor, with appropriate countenance and ges 
 ture, dramatized the motions of ordering, 
 drinking, and paying for his invisible refresh 
 ment. His pantomime was also accurate and 
 satisfying, evidently based upon seasoned ex- 
 
ioo IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 perience. The argument as to who should 
 pay, the gesture conveying the generous sen 
 timent "This one s on me," the spinning of a 
 coin on the bar, the raising of the elbow, the 
 final toss that dispatched the fluid all these 
 were done to the life. The audience followed 
 suit with a will. A whispering rustle ran 
 through the dingy hall as each man murmured 
 his favorite catchwords. "Give it a name," 
 "Set em up again," "Here s luck," and such 
 archaic phrases were faintly audible. Miss 
 Chuff kept her gaze fastened on the empty 
 tumbler. 
 
 Suddenly her rigid pose relaxed. She 
 drooped forward in her chair, with her head 
 sunk and hands limp. Tenderly and rever 
 ently Quimbleton bent over her. Then, his 
 face shining with triumph, he spoke to the 
 hushed watchers. 
 
 "She is in the trance," he said. "Gentle 
 men, her happy soul is in touch with the de 
 parted spirits. What ll you have? Don t all 
 speak at once." 
 
 Fifty-nine, in hushed voices, petitioned for 
 a Bronx. Quimbleton turned to the uncon 
 scious girl. 
 
 "Fifty-nine devotees/ he said, "ask that the 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY lion 
 
 spirit of the Bronx cocktail vouchsafe his pres 
 ence among us." 
 
 Miss Chuff s slender figure stiffened again. 
 Her hand went out to the glass beside her, and 
 raised it to her lips. Some of the more eag 
 erly credulous afterwards asserted that they 
 had seen a cloudy yellow liquid appear in the 
 vessel, but it is not improbable that the wish 
 was father to the vision. At any rate, the 
 fifty-nine suppliants experienced at that in 
 stant a gush of sweet coolness down their 
 ;throats, and the unmistakable subsequent tin 
 gle. They gazed at each other with a wild 
 surmise. 
 
 "How about another?" said one in a thrill 
 ing whisper. 
 
 "Take your turn," said Quimbleton. "Who s 
 next?" 
 
 One hundred and fifty-three nominated 
 Scotch whiskey. The order was filled without 
 a slip. Quimbleton s face beamed above his 
 beard like a full-blown rose. "Magnificent!" 
 he whispered to Bleak, both of them having 
 partaken in the second round. "If this keeps 
 on we ll have a charge of the tight brigade." 
 
 The next round was ninety-five Jack Rose 
 cocktails, but the audience was beginning to 
 
102 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 get out of hand. Those who had not yet been 
 served grew restive. They saw their compan 
 ions with brightened eyes and beaming faces, 
 comparing notes as to this delicious revival of 
 old sensations. In the impatience of some and 
 the jubilation of others, the psychic concentra 
 tion flagged a little. Then, just as Quimble- 
 ton was about to ask for the fourth round, the 
 unforgiveable happened. Some one at the back 
 shouted, "A glass of buttermilk!" 
 
 Miss Chuff shuddered, quivered, and opened 
 her eyes with a tragic gasp. She slipped from 
 the chair, and fell exhausted to the floor. 
 Bleak ran to pick her up. Quimbleton 
 screamed out an oath. 
 
 "The spell is broken I" he roared. -"There s 
 a spy in the room!" 
 
 At that instant a battalion of armed chuffs 
 burst into the hall. They carried a huge hose, 
 and in ten seconds a six-inch stream of cold 
 water was being poured upon the bewildered 
 psychic tipplers. Quimbleton and Bleak, seiz 
 ing the girl s helpless form, escaped by a door 
 at the back of the platform. 
 
 "Heaven help us," cried Bleak, distraught. 
 "What shall we do? This means the firing 
 squad unless we can escape/ 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 103 
 
 Theodolinda feebly opened her eyes. 
 
 "O horrible," she murmured. "The spirit 
 of buttermilk I saw him- he threatened 
 me " 
 
 "The horse!" cried Quimbleton, witH fierce 
 energy. "The Bishop s horse in the stable!" 
 
 They ran wildly to the rear quarters of the 
 Home, where they found the Bishop s famous 
 charger whinneying in his stall. All three 
 leaped upon his back. In the confusion, amid 
 the screams of the tortured inmates and the 
 cruel cries of the invading chuffs, they made 
 good their escape. 
 
 Every one of the wretched inmates captured 
 at the psychic carouse was immediately sen 
 tenced to six months hard listening on the 
 Chautauqua circuit. But even during this 
 brutal punishment their memories returned 
 with tenderest reminiscence to the experience 
 of that afternoon. As one of them said, "it 
 was a real treat." And although Quimbleton 
 had plainly stated the relation in which he stood 
 to Theodolinda Chuff, she had no less than two 
 hundred and ten proposals of marriage, by 
 mail, from those who had attended the seance. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE DECANTERBURY PILGRIMS 
 
 f 
 
 THROUGH a dreary waste of devas 
 tated country a little group of refu 
 gees plodded in silence. All about 
 them lay fields and orchards which had been 
 torn and uprooted as though by some unbe 
 lievable whirlwind. At a watering trough 
 along the road they halted, facing the sign : 
 
 COMPULSORY DRINKING STATION 
 Adults, i quart 
 Children, I pint 
 
 Thirst forbidden between here and 
 the next station 
 
 Under the eye of an armed chuff, who 
 watched them suspiciously, the wretched wan 
 derers drank the water in silence, but without 
 enthusiasm. Then they shuffled on down the 
 
 road. 
 
 104 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 105 
 
 At the front of the small procession a slen 
 der girl, in a much-stained sports suit, rode on 
 a tall black horse. Beside the horse trudged 
 a bulky man in a grotesque garb of dirty lav 
 ender quilting. A matted whisk of coarse 
 beard drooped from his chin, but his blue eyes 
 burned brightly in his sunburnt face. Over 
 his shoulder he carried a six foot length of 
 brass railing, a small folding table, and a 
 shabby knapsack. 
 
 Behind the horse limped a lean, dyspeptic- 
 colored individual in a Palm Beach suit that 
 would have been a social death-warrant on the 
 Chining sands of its name-place. There is no 
 form of sartorialism that takes on such utter 
 humility as a Palm Beach suit gone wrong. 
 This particular vestment was spotted with ink, 
 with mud, with fruit-juices, with every kind 
 of stain; it was punctured with perforations 
 that might have been due to fallen tobacco tin 
 der. The individual within this travesty of 
 clothing was painfully propelling a wheelbar 
 row, in which rode (not without complaint) 
 a substantial woman and a baby. An older 
 child trailed from the Palm Beach coat-tail. 
 
 These jovial vagabonds, as the reader will 
 have suspected, were no other than Theodo- 
 
106 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 linda Chuff, Virgil Quimbleton, and the fam 
 ily of Bleaks. 
 
 Affairs had gone steadily from bad to worse. 
 After the incident or, as some blasphemously 
 called it, the miracle at Cana, Bishop Chuff 
 had commenced ruthless warfare. Enraged 
 beyond control by the perfidy of his daughter, 
 he had sent out the armies of the Pan-Antis to 
 wreak vengeance on every human enterprise 
 that could be suspected of complicity in the 
 matter of fermentation. Not only had the 
 countryside been laid waste, but the printing 
 press had been abolished and all publishing 
 trades were now a thing of the past. This, of 
 course, had thrown Dunraven Bleak out of a 
 job. He had retrieved his wife and children 
 from the seashore, and in company with Quim 
 bleton and Miss Chuff, and the noble and faith 
 ful horse John Barleycorn, they had led a nom 
 ad existence for weeks, flying from bands of 
 pursuing chuffs, and bravely preaching their 
 illicit gospel of good cheer in the face of ter 
 rible dangers. 
 
 The girl, who was indeed the Jeanne d Arc 
 of their cause, was their sole means of sub 
 sistence. It was her psychic powers that made 
 it possible for them, in a furtive way, to give 
 
THEY LED A NOMAD EXISTENCE FOR 
 WEEKS, 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 109 
 
 their little entertainments. Their method was, 
 pn reaching a village where there were no chuff 
 troops, to distribute certain handbills which 
 Bleak had been able to get printed by stealth. 
 These read thus: 
 
 THE SIX QUIMBLETONS 
 
 or The Decanterbury Pilgrims 
 
 In Their Artistic Revival 
 Of Old and Entertaining Customs, 
 
 Tableaux Vivants 
 
 iVanished Arts, Folklore Games and 
 
 Conjuring Tricks 
 
 Such as The Drinking of Healths, Toasts, 
 Nosepainting, The Lifted Elbow, Let s Match 
 For It, Say When, Light or Dark? and This 
 
 One s On Me. 
 
 COMMUNION WITH DEPARTED SPIRITS 
 
 jpTOfevtfifl^^^^ ^iSHBtotet^Tt 
 
 IPfrlease Do Not Leave Before the^^^| 
 Hat Goes Round 
 
 Having taken their station in some not too 
 prominent place, Bleak would mount the wheel 
 barrow and play Coming Through the Rye on 
 a jew s-harp. This, his sole musical accom 
 plishment, was exceedingly distasteful to him: 
 all his training had been in the anonymity of 
 
I io IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 a newspaper office, and he felt his public hu 
 miliation bitterly. 
 
 When a crowd had gathered, Quimbleton 
 would ascend the barrow and make a brief 
 speech (of a highly inflammatory and trea 
 sonable nature) after which he would set up 
 the small table and the brass rail, produce a 
 white apron and a tumbler from his knapsack, 
 and introduce Theodolinda for an alcoholic 
 trance. It was found that the public entered 
 into the spirit of these seances with great gusto, 
 and often the collection taken up was gratify- 
 ingly large. However, the life was hazardous 
 In the extreme, and they were in perpetual dan 
 ger of meeting secret service agents. It was 
 only by repeated private trances of their own 
 that they were able to keep up their morale. 
 
 Reaching a bend in the way, where a grove 
 of trees cast a grateful shade, the Decanter- 
 bury Pilgrims halted to rest. Quimbleton 
 helped Theodolinda down from her horse, and 
 they all sat sadly by the roadside. 
 
 "Theo," said Quimbleton, as he wiped his 
 brow, "do you think, dear, that if I set up the 
 table you could give us a little trance? Upon 
 my soul, I am nearly done in." 
 
 "Darling Virgil/ said Theodolinda, "I 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 really can t do it. You know I ve given you 
 .four trances already this morning, and you 
 have communed with the soul of Wurzburger 
 at least a dozen times. Then, as you know, 
 I have put Mr. Bleak in touch with a julep six 
 or seven times. All that takes it out of me 
 dreadfully. I really must consider my art a 
 bit: I don t want to be a mere psychic bar 
 tender, a clairvoyant distiller." 
 
 - You are quite right, dear girl," said Quim- 
 bleton remorsefully. "But I couldn t help 
 thinking how agreeable a psychical seidel of 
 dark beer would be just now. You are our 
 little Jeanne Dark, you know," he added, with 
 an atrocious attempt at pleasantry. 
 
 "That s all very well," said Bleak (who pre 
 ferred julep to beer), "but if we don t look out 
 Miss Chuff will go into a permanent trance. 
 I ve noticed it has been harder and harder to 
 bring her back from these states of suspended 
 sobriety. You know, if we crowd these phan 
 tasms of the grape upon her too fast, she might 
 pass over altogether, and stay behind the bar 
 for good. We are deeply indebted to Miss 
 Chuff for her adorable willingness to act as a 
 kind of bunghole into the spirit world, but we 
 
H2 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 don t want her to slip through the hole and 
 evaporate." 
 
 "Safety thirst!" cried Quimbleton, raising 
 his loved one to his lips. 
 
 "We can t go on like this indefinitely," con 
 tinued Bleak. "I don t mind being a mounte 
 bank, but mountebanks don t pay much inter 
 est. I d rather be a safe deposit somewhere 
 out of Chuff s reach. There s too much drama 
 in this way of living." 
 
 "I can stand the drama as long as I get the 
 drams/ said the unrepentant Quimbleton. 
 
 "Well, / won t stand it!" exclaimed Mrs. 
 [Bleak, shrilly. "Look what your insane 
 schemes have brought us to! You and my 
 husband seem to find comfort in your psychical 
 jtoping, but I don t notice any psychical mil 
 linery being draped about for Miss Chuff or 
 myself. And look at the children! They re 
 simply in rags. If you really loved Miss 
 Chuff I should think you d be ashamed to use 
 her as a spiritual demijohn ! You ve alienated 
 her from her father, and reduced my husband 
 from managing editor of a leading paper to 
 managing jew s-harpist of a gang of psychic 
 bootleggers." She burst into angry tears. 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 113 
 
 Quimbleton groaned, and turned a ghastly 
 face upon Bleak. 
 
 "It s quite true," he said. 
 
 In the excitement Miss Chuff had turned 
 very pale. 
 
 "Virgil/ she said faintly, "I believe I feel a 
 trance coming on." 
 
 "Great grief!" cried the harassed leader. 
 "Not now, my darling! I think I see some 
 troops in the distance. Quick, try to concen 
 trate your mind on lemonade, on buttermilk, 
 on beef tea!" 
 
 Happily this crisis passed. Theodolinda 
 had presence of mind enough to pull out a lit 
 tle photograph of her father from some secret 
 hiding place, and by putting her mind on it 
 shook off the dominion of the other world. 
 
 Quimbleton spoke with anguished remorse. 
 
 "Mrs. Bleak is right. I ve been trying to 
 hide it from myself, but I can do so no longer. 
 This monkey business what we might call this 
 gorilla warfare must stop. We will only 
 land in front of a firing squad. I have only 
 one idea, which I have been saving in case all 
 else failed." 
 
 The Bleaks were too discouraged to com 
 ment, but Theodolinda smiled bravely. 
 
114 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 "Virgil dear," she said, "your ideas are al- 
 jways so original. What is it?" 
 
 Quimbleton stood up, unconsciously putting 
 one foot on the portable brass rail which rested 
 on its six-inch legs by the roadside. His tired 
 eyes shone anew with characteristic enthusi 
 asm. It was plain that he imagined himself 
 before a large and sympathetic audience. 
 
 "My friends," he said, "the secret of elo 
 quence is to know your facts or, as the all- 
 powerful Chuff would amend it, to know your 
 tracts. One fact, I think I may say, is plain. 
 The jig is up, or (more literally), the jag is 
 up. I can see now that alcohol will never be 
 more than a memory. Principalities and 
 powers are in league against us. If the malt 
 has lost its favor, wherewith shall it be 
 malted?" 
 
 He paused a moment, as though expecting 
 a little applause, and Theodolinda murmured 
 an encouraging "Here, here." 
 
 With rekindled eye he resumed. 
 
 "Alcohol, I say, will never be more than a 
 memory. Yet even a memory must be kept 
 alive. The great tradition must not die. For 
 the very sake of antiquarian accuracy, for the 
 instruction of posterity, some exact record must 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 115 
 
 jbe kept of the influence of alcohol upon the hu 
 man soul. How can this be preserved? Not 
 in books, not in the dead mummies of a mu 
 seum. No, not in dead mummies, indeed, but 
 in living rummies. That brings me to my 
 great idea, which I have long cherished. 
 
 "I propose, my dear friends, that in some 
 appropriate shrine, surrounded by all the au 
 thentic trappings and utensils, some chosen in 
 dividual be maintained at the public charge, to 
 exhibit for the contemplation of a drouthing 
 world the immortal flame of intoxication. He 
 will be known, without soft concealments, as 
 the Perpetual Souse. In his little bar, served 
 by austere attendants, he will be kept in a state 
 of gentle exhilaration. Nothing gross, noth 
 ing unseemly, I insist ! In that state of sweetly 
 glowing mind and heart, in that ineffable blos 
 soming of all the nobler qualities of human 
 dignity, this priest of alcohol will represent 
 and perpetuate the virtues of the grape. 
 Booze, in the general sense, will have gone 
 West, but ah how fair and ruddy a sunset will 
 it have in the person of this its vicar ! There 
 fie will live, visited, studied, revered, a living 
 memorial. There he will live, perpetually in 
 
n6 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 a mellow fume of bliss, trailing clouds of glory, 
 as if as some poet says, 
 
 As if his whole vocation 
 Were endless intoxication. 
 
 And now, my friends- not to weary you with 
 the minor details of this far-reaching proposal 
 let me come to the point. For so gravely 
 responsible a post, for an office so representa 
 tive of the ideals and ambitions of millions, 
 the choice cannot be cast haphazard. The 
 choice must fall upon one qualified, confirmed, 
 consecrated to this end. This deeply signifi 
 cant office must be conferred by the people 
 themselves. It must be conferred by popular 
 election. Candidates must be nominated, must 
 stump the country explaining their qualifica 
 tions. And let me say that, upon looking over 
 the whole field, I see one man, who by the jury 
 of his peers or shall I say by the jury of his 
 beers? is supremely fitted for this post. It 
 is my intention to nominate Mr. Dunraven 
 Bleak for the office of Perpetual Souse." 
 
 There was a moment of complete silence 
 while his hearers considered the vast scope 
 of this remarkable suggestion. It is only fair 
 to say that Mr. Bleak s face had at first lighted 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 117 
 
 up, but then he glanced at his wife and his 
 countenance grew pinched. He spoke hastily : 
 
 "A very generous thought, my dear fellow ; 
 but I feel that you would be far more compe-J 
 tent for this form of public service than I 
 could hope to be." 
 
 "Your modesty does you credit," replied 
 Quimbleton, "but you forget that owing to my 
 relation with Miss Chuff I shall happily be pre 
 cluded from the necessity of entering public 
 life for this purpose." 
 
 "And what, pray," said Mrs. Bleak with dis 
 tinct asperity, "is to become of me and the 
 children if Mr. Bleak is elected to this prepos 
 terous office?" 
 
 "I was coming to that," said Quimbleton 
 eagerly. "It would be arranged, of course, 
 that the Perpetual Souse would be granted a 
 liberal salary for his family expenses ; you and 
 your delightful children would be maintained 
 at the public expense in a suitable bungalow 
 nearby, with a private family entrance into the 
 official cellars. Your rank, of course, would be 
 that of Perpetual Spouse." 
 
 "My good Quimbleton," said Bleak, some 
 what bitterly, "this is a fascinating vision in 
 deed, but how can it be accomplished? How 
 
n8 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 would you ever get such a scheme accepted by 
 Bishop Chuff, who will never forgive you for 
 kidnaping his daughter? You are building 
 bar-rooms in Spain, my dear chap; you are 
 blowing mere soap-bubbles/ 
 
 "And why not?" cried his friend. "Bishop 
 Chuff has called me a soap-box orator. At any 
 rate, a man who stands upon a soap-box is 
 nearer heaven by several inches than the man 
 who stands upon the ground." 
 
 Theodolinda s face sparkled with the impact 
 of an idea. 
 
 "Come/ she said, "it s not impossible after 
 all. I have a thought. We ll offer Father an 
 armistice and talk things over with him. He 
 doesn t know what straits we re in, and maybe 
 we can bring him to terms. He was very 
 badly scared by those gooseberry bombs, and 
 maybe we can bluff him into a concession." 
 
 "If we had had any luck," said Quimbleton, 
 "we would have blown him into a concussion. 
 But anyway, that s a bonny scheme. We ll 
 grant him a truce. Bleak, you re a newspaper 
 man, just get hold of the United Press and let 
 them know the armistice is signed." , 
 
 Bleak smiled wanly at the thrust. 
 
 "All right," he said. "Let s go. But what s 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 119 
 
 your idea, Miss Chuff? We must have some 
 thing to base negotiations on." 
 
 "Wait and see," she cried gayly. "Well 
 talk it over as we go along." 
 
 Mrs. Bleak aroused her children, who had 
 fallen asleep, and climbed back into the wheel 
 barrow. 
 
 "I don t know that I approve of that scheme 
 of making Dunraven the Perpetual Souse," she 
 remarked. "I can imagine what my poor 
 mother would say about it if she were living. 
 She came of fine old Kentucky stock, and it 
 would humiliate her deeply to know to what a 
 level we had been reduced." 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Bleak," said Quimbleton, as 
 he hoisted his betrothed into the saddle and the 
 pilgrims began to move, "I know of a great 
 deal of good old Kentucky stock that has had a 
 far worse fate than that in these tragic years." 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 iWITH BENEFIT OF CLERGY 
 
 THROUGH the sullen streets of the 
 terrorized city Miss Chuff, Quimble- 
 ton and Bleak proceeded toward the 
 great building where the Pan-Antis had their 
 headquarters. They had left Mrs. Bleak, the 
 children and the horse at a quiet soda-fountain 
 in the suburbs. After repeated application 
 over the wireless telephone, the terrible Bishop 
 the Prohibishop, as Quimbleton called him 
 had agreed to grant them an audience, and had 
 accorded them safe-conduct through the chuff 
 troops. Even so, their progress was difficult. 
 Every few hundred yards they were halted and 
 subjected to curt inquiry. Men and women 
 who had heard of their gallant struggle against 
 fearful odds pressed forward in an attempt to 
 seize their hands, to embrace and applaud them, 
 but these evidences of enthusiasm were sternly 
 repressed by the chuffs. 
 
 I2O 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 121 
 
 Bleak was frankly nervous as they ap 
 proached the Chuff Building. 
 
 "What line of talk are we going to adopt?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Like any self-respecting line," replied 
 Quimbleton, "Ours will be the shortest dis 
 tance between two points. The first point is 
 that we want to obtain something from Chuff. 
 The second is that we have some information 
 to give him which will be of immense value to 
 him. This we shall hold over him as a club, 
 to force him to concede what we want." 
 
 "And what is this club?" asked Bleak, some 
 what suspicious of his friend s sanguine dispo 
 sition. 
 
 "The admirable plan/* said Quimbleton, "is 
 Theodolinda s idea, She knows her father 
 better than we do. She says that his passion 
 is for prohibiting things. He thinks he has 
 now prohibited everything possible. We are 
 in a position to tell him something that still 
 remains unprohibited. His eagerness to know 
 what that may be will make him yield to our 
 request." 
 
 Bleak pondered gloomily. As far as he could 
 recall, the Prohibition Government had over 
 looked nothing. The quaint part of it was that 
 
122 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 some of its prohibitions, carried to their logical 
 extreme, had curiously overleaped their mark. 
 For instance, finding it impossible to enforce 
 the laws against playing games on Sundays, 
 the Government had concluded that the only 
 way to make the Sabbath utterly immaculate 
 was to abolish it altogether, which was done. 
 Other laws, probably based upon genuine zeal 
 for human welfare, had resulted in odd eva 
 sions or legal fictions. For instance, people 
 were forbidden to miss trains. The penalty 
 for missing a train was ten days hard labor 
 splitting infinitives in the government tract- 
 factory. Rather than impose this harsh pun 
 ishment on any one, good-hearted engineers 
 would permit their trains to loiter about the 
 stations until they felt certain no other passen 
 gers would turn up. Consequently no trains 
 were ever on time, and the Government was 
 forced to do away with time entirely. Another 
 thing that was abolished was hot weather. It 
 had been found too tedious to tilt the axis of 
 the earth, therefore all the thermometers were 
 re-scaled. When the temperature was really 
 96, the mercury registered only 70, and 
 every one was saying how jolly cool it was for 
 the time of year. This, of course, was careless, 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 123 
 
 for there was no such thing as time or year, but 
 still people kept on saying it. 
 
 Bleak was thinking over these matters when 
 he suddenly recalled that it was forbidden to 
 remember things as they had been under the 
 old regime. He pulled himself up with a start. 
 In order to make his mind a blank he tried to 
 imagine himself about to write a leading edi 
 torial for the Balloon. This was so successful 
 that he did not come to earth again until they 
 stood in the ante-room or as Quimbleton 
 called it, the anti-room of the Bishop. 
 
 "Who is to be spokesman ?" he said appre 
 hensively, gazing with distaste at the angular 
 females who were pecking at typewriters. "It 
 would be unseemly for me to present my own 
 claims in this project. Quimbleton, you are 
 the one you have the gift of the tongue." 
 
 "I would rather have the gift of the bung," 
 [whispered Quimbleton resolutely as they were 
 ushered into the inner sanctum. 
 
 The dreaded Bishop sat at an immense ebony 
 Hat-topped desk. The room was furnished like 
 his mind, that is to say, sparsely, and without 
 any southern exposure. A peculiarly terrify 
 ing feature of the scene was that the top of the 
 desk was completely bare, not a single paper lay 
 
124 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 on it. Remembering his own desk in the news 
 paper office, Bleak felt that this was unnatural 
 and monstrous. He noticed a breathoscope on 
 the mantelpiece, with its sensitive needle trem 
 bling on the scaled dial which read thus : 
 
 As he watched the indicator oscillate rapidly 
 on the dial, and finally subside uncertainly at 
 zero, he thanked heaven that they had indulged 
 in no psychic grogs that day. 
 
 The Bishop s black beard foamed downward 
 upon the desk like a gloomy cataract. Quim- 
 bleton for a moment was almost abashed, and 
 regretted that he had not thought to whitewash 
 his own dingy thicket. 
 
 Bishop Chuff s piercing and cruel gaze 
 Stabbed all three. He ignored Theodolinda 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 125 
 
 with contempt. His disdain was so complete 
 that (as the unhappy girl said afterward) he 
 seemed more like a younger brother than a 
 father. There were no chairs: they were 
 forced to stand. In a small mirror fastened to 
 the edge of his desk the sneering potentate 
 could note the dial-reading of the instrument 
 without turning. He watched the reflected 
 needle flicker and come to rest. 
 
 "So, Mr. Quimbleton," he said, in a harsh 
 and untuned voice, "You come comparatively 
 sober. Strange that you should choose to be 
 unintoxicated when you face the greatest or 
 deal of your life." 
 
 The savage irony of this angered Quimble 
 ton. 
 
 "One touch of liquor makes the whole world 
 kin," he said. "I assure you I have no desire 
 to claim kinship with your bitter and intoler 
 ant soul." 
 
 "Ah ?" said the Bishop, with mock politeness. 
 "You relieve me greatly. I had thought you 
 desired to claim me as father-in-law." 
 
 "Oh, Parent!" cried Theodolinda; "How 
 can you be so cruel? Sarcasm is such a low 
 form of humor." 
 
 "I am not trying to be humorous," said the 
 
126 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 Bishop grimly. "You, who were once the apple 
 of my eye, are now only an apple of discord. 
 You, whom I considered such a promising 
 child, are now a breach of promise. You have 
 Ducked my blood. You are a Vampire." 
 
 "The Vampire on whom the sun never sets," 
 whispered Quimbleton to the terrified girl, en 
 couraging her as she shrank against him. 
 
 "This is no time for jest," said the Bishop 
 angrily. "You said you had a matter of vital 
 import to lay before me. Make haste. And 
 remember that you are here only on sufferance. 
 I shall be pitiless. I shall scourge the evil prin 
 ciple you represent from the face of the earth." 
 
 "We do not fear your threats," said Quim 
 bleton stoutly. "We are not alarmed by your 
 frown." 
 
 He was, greatly, but he was sparring for, 
 time to put his thoughts in order. He started 
 to say "Uneasy lies the head that wears a 
 frown," which was an aphorism of his own he 
 thought highly of, but Theodolinda checked 
 him. She knew that her father detested puns. 
 It was perhaps his only virtue. 
 
 "Bishop Chuff," said Quimbleton, "perhaps 
 you are not aware of the strength and tenacity 
 of the sentiment we represent. I assure you 
 
r THIS IS NO TIME FOR JEST," SAID 
 THE BISHOP ANGRILY. ^ REMEMBER; 
 I SHALL BE PITILESS.*; 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 129 
 
 that if you underestimate the power of the mil 
 lions of thirsty mouths that speak through us, 
 you will rue the consequences. Jrouble is 
 brewing " 
 
 "Neither trouble, nor anything else, is brew 
 ing nowadays/ said the terrible Bishop. 
 
 Theodolinda saw that Quimbleton was losing 
 ground by his incorrigible habit of talking be 
 fore he said anything. She broke in impetu 
 ously, and explained the plan for the Perpetual 
 Souse. Her father listened to the end with his 
 cold, forbidding gaze, while the sensitive 
 needle of the recording instrument on the man 
 tel danced and wagged in agitation. 
 
 "So this is your scheme, is it?" he said. 
 "Abandoned offspring, you deserve the gal 
 lows." 
 
 "Wait a moment/ said Quimbleton. "Now 
 comes the other side of the argument. If you 
 grant us this concession we in turn will put 
 you in possession of a magnificent idea. You 
 think that you have prohibited everything. 
 Your vetoes cumber the earth. But there is 
 still one thing you have forgotten to prohibit." 
 
 "What is it?" said the Bishop coldly. His 
 hard face was unmoved, but his eyes bright 
 ened a trifle. 
 
130 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 "There is one thing you have forgotten to 
 prohibit/ said Quimbleton solemnly. "I can 
 hardly conceive how it escaped you. The one 
 thing that harasses human beings over the 
 whole civilized world. The one thing which, if 
 you were to abolish it, would make your name, 
 foul as that now is, blessed in the ears of men. 
 Oh, the joy of still having something to pro 
 hibit ! The unmixed bliss and high privilege of 
 the vetoing function! I envy you, from my 
 heart, in still having something to forbid." 
 
 The Bishop stirred uneasily in his chair. 
 "What is it?" he said. 
 
 Quimbleton watched him with a steady and 
 slightly annoying smile. 
 
 "I like to dwell in imagination upon your sur 
 prise when you realize what you have over 
 looked. It seems so simple ! To abolish, pro 
 hibit, banish, and remove, at one swoop, the 
 chief preoccupation of mankind! The simple 
 and high-minded felicity of still having some 
 thing prohibitable subject to your omnipotent 
 legislation ! But there, I dare say I am wrong. 
 Probably you are weary of prohibiting things." 
 
 Quimbleton made a motion to his compan 
 ions as though to leave the room. The Bishop 
 leaped to his feet, with curiously mingled anger 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 131 
 
 and eagerness on his face. "Stop!" he cried. 
 "You can t mean laughter? I abolished that 
 some weeks ago. I don t believe there is any 
 thing left " 
 
 "How quaint it is," said Quimbleton (as 
 though talking to himself), "that it is always 
 the plainly obvious that eludes ! But, of course, 
 the reason you have not abolished this matter 
 before is that to do so would wholly alter and 
 undermine the habits of the race. Nothing 
 would be the same as before. I daresay a good 
 deal of misery would be caused in the long run, 
 who knows ? Ah well, it seems a pity you for 
 got it " 
 
 "Hell s bells!" roared the Bishop, bringing 
 his fist down on the desk with fury "What 
 is it? Let me get at it!" 
 
 "I should be sorry to marry into a profane 
 family," was Quimbleton s reply, moving to 
 ward the door. 
 
 The Bishop chewed the end of his beard with 
 a crunching sound. This unpleasant gesture 
 caused a tingle to pass along Bleak s sensitive 
 spine, already strained to painful nervous ten 
 sion. The office of the Perpetual Souse hung 
 in the balance. 
 
 "Look here," said Bishop Chuff, "If I let 
 
132 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 you have your way about the the Permanent 
 Exhibit, will you tell me what it is I have for 
 gotten to prohibit? 
 
 "With pleasure," said Quimbleton. Will 
 you put it down in black and white, please?" 
 
 He secured the Bishop s signature to a docu 
 ment giving instructions for the necessary 
 legislation to be passed. Folding the precious 
 paper in his pocket, Quimbleton faced the 
 black-browed Bishop. He held Theodolinda by 
 the hand. 
 
 "I am sorry," he said, "that I should have 
 forgotten to bring a ring with me. If I had 
 done so, you might have married us here and 
 now. At least you will not refuse us your 
 blessing?" 
 
 "Blessings have been abolished," said Chuff 
 in a voice of exasperation. "Now inform me 
 what it is that I have forgotten to condemn." 
 
 "Work!" cried Quimbleton, and the three 
 ran hastily from the room. 
 
ll CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE ELECTION 
 
 IN the days following Quimbleton s coup 
 Chuff was in seclusion. It was rumored 
 that he was ill; it was rumored that the 
 sounds of breaking furniture had been heard 
 by the neighbors on Caraway Street. But at 
 any rate the Bishop lived up to his word. 
 Orders over his signature went to Congress, 
 and vast sums of money were appropriated 
 immediately for 
 
 The establishment and maintenance of a national 
 park with suitable buildings and appurtenances where 
 in might be maintained an elected individual in a state 
 of freedom, with access to alcoholic beverages, in 
 order that successive generations might view for them 
 selves the devastating effects of alcohol upon the hu 
 man system. 
 
 No political campaign was ever contested 
 with more zeal and zest than that which led 
 up to the election of the Perpetual Souse. Life 
 
 had grown rather dreary under the innumer- 
 
 133 
 
134 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 able prohibitions of the Chuff regime, and the 
 citizens welcomed the excitement of the cam 
 paign as a notable diversion. Quimbleton ap 
 pointed himself chairman of the committee to 
 nominate Bleak, and the editor (acting under 
 his friend s instructions) had hardly begun to 
 deny vigorously that he had any intention of 
 being a candidate before he found himself 
 plunged into a bewildering vortex of meetings, 
 speeches, and confessions of faith. Marching 
 clubs, properly outfitted with two-quart silk 
 tiles and frock coats, were spatting their way 
 plumply down the Boulevard. Torchlight pro 
 cessions tinted the night; ward picnics strewed 
 the shells of hard-boiled eggs on the lawns of 
 suburban amusement parks, while Bleak, very 
 ill at ease, was kissing adhesive babies and 
 autographing tissue napkins and smiling hor 
 ribly as he whirled about with the grand 
 mothers in the agony of the carrousel. More 
 /than once, reeling with the endless circuit of a 
 painted merry-go-round charger, the perplexed 
 candidate became so confused that he kissed 
 the paper napkin and autographed the baby. 
 
 He found Quimbleton a stern ringleader. 
 Virgil was not satisfied with the old-fashioned 
 method of stumping the country from the taff- 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 135 
 
 rail of a Pullman car, and insisted on strapping 
 Bleak into the cockpit of a biplane and flying 
 him from city to city. They would land in 
 some central square, and the candidate, deaf 
 ened and half-frozen, would stammer a few 
 halting remarks. He felt it rather keenly that 
 Quimbleton looked down on his lack of orator 
 ical gift, and it was a frequent humiliation that 
 when words did not prosper on his tongue his 
 impatient pilot would turn on the motors and 
 zoom off into space in the very middle of a 
 sentence. 
 
 Nevertheless, the campaign went famously. 
 Bleak had one considerable advantage in being 
 comparatively unknown. He had never per 
 mitted himself the luxury of making enemies : 
 except for a few ex-reporters who had once 
 worked on the Balloon he had not a foe in the 
 world. Quimbleton had been eager to import 
 a covey of gunmen from other cities, but when 
 these arrived there was really nothing for them 
 to do. They were glad to accept jobs from 
 Bishop Chuff, and were well paid for waylay 
 ing and sniping the few grapes and apples that 
 had escaped previous pogroms. 
 
 There was only one plank in Bleak s modest 
 platform, but he walked it so happily that it 
 
136 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 began to look like a gangplank leading onto the 
 Ship of State. He expressed his doctrine very 
 agreeably in his speech accepting the party 
 nomination; though credit should be given to 
 Theodolinda, who had assisted him by a little 
 private seance before he addressed the con 
 vention. 
 
 "Ladies and gentlemen/ he said (looking as 
 he spoke at one of the handbills announcing his 
 candidacy for the dignity of mouthpiece of the 
 nation) "I issue dodgers, but I never dodge 
 the issue. I can Take It or Let It Alone, but 
 frankly, I prefer to Take It. I hope I speak 
 modestly : yet candor insists that both by past 
 training and present inclination I feel myself 
 fitted to deal with the problems of this exalted 
 office. If elected to this high place of trust I 
 shall regard myself solely as the servant of 
 the public, solely as the representative of your 
 sovereign will. As I raise the glass or peel the 
 lemon, I shall not act in any individual capacity. 
 My own good cheer (I beg you to believe) will 
 be my last thought. I shall remember, in every 
 gesture and every gulp, that my thirst is in 
 reality the Thirst of a Nation, delegated to me 
 by ballot ; that my laughter and song (if things 
 should go so far) are truly the mirth and mu- 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 137 
 
 sic of a proud people expressing themselves 
 through me. I shall be at all times accessible to 
 my fellow-men, solicitous to hear their counsel 
 and command. Believing (as I do) in modera 
 tion, yet I should not dream of permitting pri 
 vate sentiment to interfere with public interest 
 when more violent measures should seem de 
 sirable. 
 
 "I like to think, my fellow-citizens, that you 
 have conferred this nomination upon me not 
 wholly at random. I like to think that I am 
 only expressing your thought when I say that 
 many drinkers have been the worst enemies 
 of the cause we all hold dear. The alcohol- 
 shevik and the I. W. W. the I Wallow in 
 Wine faction have done much to discredit the 
 old bland Jeffersonian toper who carried tip 
 pling to the level of a fine art. I have no pa 
 tience with the doctrine of complete immersion. 
 Ever since I was first admitted to the bar I 
 have deplored the conduct of those violent and 
 vulgar revelers who have brought discredit 
 upon the loveliest, most delicate art known to 
 man. Now, at last, by supreme wisdom, 
 drinking is to be elevated to the dignity of a 
 career. I like to think that I express your sen 
 timent when I say that drinking is too precious, 
 
138 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 too subtle, too fragile a function to be entrusted 
 to the common crowd. Therefore I heartily 
 applaud your admirable intention of entrusting 
 it entirely to me, and look forward with pro 
 found satisfaction to the privilege of enshrin 
 ing and perpetuating in my own person the 
 genial traditions that have clustered round the 
 institution of Liquor. If elected, I shall en 
 deavor to carry on the fine old rituals and pass 
 them down unimpaired to the next incumbent. 
 I shall endeavor to make duty a pleasure, and 
 pleasure a duty. I shall remind myself that I 
 am only performing the service to humanity 
 that each one of you would willingly render 
 if you were in my place. 
 
 "My fellow-citizens, I thank you for your 
 amiable confidence, and am happy to accept 
 the nomination." 
 
 There were some who criticized this speech 
 on the ground that it was too academic. It was 
 remembered that Mr. Bleak had at one time 
 been a school-teacher, and his opponents were 
 quick to raise the cry "What can a schoolmas 
 ter know about liquor ?" It was said that Mr. 
 Bleak was too scholarly, too aloof, too cold 
 blooded: that his interest in booze was merely 
 philosophical, that he would be incompetent to 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 139 
 
 Seal with the practical problems of actual 
 drinking: that he would surround himself with 
 drinks that would be mere puppets, subservient 
 entirely to his own purposes. The adherents 
 of Jerry Purplevein, the nominee of the other 
 party, made haste to assert that Bleak was not 
 a drinker at all but was a tool of the Chuff 
 machine. Jerry was a former bartender who 
 had been pining away in the ice-cream cone 
 business. Huge banners appeared across the 
 streets, showing highly colored pictures of Mr. 
 Purplevein plying his original profession, with 
 the legend : 
 
 RALLY ROUND THE FLAGON 
 VOTE FOR 
 
 PURPLEVEIN 
 
 THE PRACTICAL MAN 
 
 One of the exciting features of the campaign 
 was the sudden appearance of a Woman s 
 Party, which launched an ably-conducted boom 
 for a Woman Souse and nominated Miss 
 Cynthia Absinthe as its candidate. The idea 
 of having a woman elected to this responsible 
 office was disconcerting to many citizens, but 
 
140 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 Miss Absinthe s record (as outlined by her 
 publicity headquarters) compelled respect. 
 3he was reputed to have been a passionate and 
 tumultuous consumer of sloe gin, and thou 
 sands of women in white bartenders coats 
 marched with banners announcing: 
 
 ABSINTHE MAKES THE 
 HEART GROW FONDER 
 VOTE FOR CYNTHIA 
 
 and 
 
 OUR SLOGAN 
 IS SLOE GIN 
 
 For a while there was quite a probability that 
 the male vote would be so split by Bleak and 
 Purplevein that Miss Absinthe would come in 
 ahead. But at the height of the campaign she 
 was found in a pharmacy drinking a maple nut 
 foam. After this her cause declined rapidly, 
 and even her most ardent partisans admitted 
 that she would never be more than an Inter 
 mittent Souse. 
 
 Purplevein s followers, in their desperate 
 efforts to discredit Bleak, overplayed their 
 hand (as "practical politicians" always do). 
 The sagacious Quimbleton outmaneuvered 
 them at every turn. Moderate drinkers rallied 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 141 
 
 round Bleak. Moreover, the Bleak party had 
 an irresistible assistant in the person of Miss 
 Chuff, who put her trances unreservedly at 
 Dunraven s disposal. In this way Quimbleton 
 was able to produce his candidate before a 
 monster mass meeting at the Opera House in a 
 state of becoming exhilaration. This forever 
 put an end to the rumor that Bleak was not a 
 practical man. Miss Chuff also campaigned 
 strenuously among the women, where Purple- 
 vein (being a bachelor) was at a disadvantage. 
 "Vote for Bleak/ cried Miss Chuff "He has 
 a wife to help him." Purplevein s argument 
 that the office of Perpetual Souse should be an 
 entirely stag affair fell dead before Theodo- 
 linda s glowing description of the Hostess 
 House which Mrs. Bleak would conduct next 
 door to the little temple which was to be erected 
 by the government for the successful candi 
 date. 
 
 Despite the exhaustion of the campaign, 
 Bleak stood it well. Quimbleton, knowing the 
 disastrous effects of over-confidence, kept his 
 man at fighting edge by a little judicious pes 
 simism now and then, and rumors of the popu 
 larity of Purplevein among the hard drinkers. 
 Day after day Quimbleton and Miss Chuff, 
 
142 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 after a little psychic communing, would prop 
 the editor among cushions in the big gray 
 limousine and spin him about the city and 
 suburbs to bow, smile, say a few automatic 
 words and pass on. Over the car floated a big 
 banner with the words: Let Bleak Do Your 
 Drinking For You: He Knows How. The un 
 happy Purplevein, who had to do his election 
 eering in a state of chill sobriety, was aghast 
 to see the beaming and gently flushed face of 
 his rival radiating cheer. At the eleventh hour 
 he tried to change his tactics and plastered the 
 billboards with immense posters : 
 
 BLEAK DOESN T NEED THE JOB- 
 HE S SOUSED ALREADY 
 
 This line of argument might perhaps have been 
 powerful if adopted earlier, but by that time 
 the agreeable vision of Bleak s ascetic features 
 wreathed in a faintly spiritual benignance was 
 already firmly fixed in the public imagination. 
 The little celluloid button showing his trans 
 figured and endearing smile was worn on mil 
 lions of lapels. As one walked down the street 
 one met that little badge hundreds of times, 
 and the mere repetition of the tenderly exhil 
 arated face seemed to many a citizen a beau- 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 143 
 
 tiful and significant thing. Men are altruistic 
 at heart. They saw that Bleak would make of 
 this high office a richly eloquent and appealing" 
 stewardship. They were reconciled to their 
 own abstinence in the thought that the dreams 
 and desires of their own hearts would be so 
 nobly fulfilled by him. Alcohol was gone for 
 ever, and perhaps it was as well. They them 
 selves were conscious of having abused its sa 
 cred powers. But now, in the person of this 
 chosen representative, all that was lovely and 
 laughable in the old customs would be conse 
 crated and enshrined forever. Men who had 
 known Bleak in the days of his employment on 
 the Balloon recollected that even during the 
 cares and efforts of his profession little inci 
 dents had occurred that might have shown 
 (had they been shrewd enough to notice) how 
 faithfully he was preparing himself for the 
 great responsibility destiny held concealed. 
 
 The day of the election was declared a na 
 tional festival. The Chuff government, a good 
 deal startled by the universal seriousness and 
 enthusiasm shown in the enrollment at the pri 
 maries, was disposed (in secret) to regard the 
 office of Perpetual Souse as a helpful compro 
 mise on a vexed question. The war against 
 
144 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 Nature had been only partially successful: in 
 deed the chuff chief -of -staff declared that Na 
 ture had not learned her lesson yet, and that 
 some irreconcilable berries and fruits were still 
 waging a guerilla fermentation, thus rupturing 
 the armistice terms. The countryside had been 
 ravaged, all the Chautauqua lecturers were 
 hoarse, industry was at a standstill, misery and 
 despair were widespread. Even the indomit 
 able Chuff himself was a little nonplussed. 
 Better (he thought) one man indubitably, de 
 corously, publicly, and legally drunk, than mil 
 lions of citizens privily attempting to cajole 
 raisins and apples into illicit sprightliness. / 
 The citizens went to the polls in a mood of 
 exalted self-denial. They knew that they were 
 voting away their own rights, but they also 
 knew that their private ideals would be more 
 than realized in the legalized frenzy of their 
 representative. Bleak, appearing on the bal 
 cony of his hotel, smiled affectionately on the 
 loyal faces that cheered him from below. He 
 was deeply moved. To Quimbleton (who was 
 supporting him from behind) he said: "Their 
 generosity is wonderful. I shall try to be 
 worthy of their confidence. I hope I may have 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 145 
 
 strength to put into practice the frustrated 
 desires of these noble people." 
 
 The result of the polling was to be an 
 nounced by a searchlight from the City Hall. 
 A white beam sweeping eastward would mean 
 the election of Purplevein. A white beam 
 sweeping westward would mean the triumph of 
 Miss Absinthe. A steady red beam cast up 
 ward toward the zenith would indicate the vic 
 tory of Bleak. 
 
 At ten o clock that night a scream of cheers 
 burst from millions of people packed along 
 the city streets. A clear, glowing shaft of 
 red light leaped upward into the sky. Dun- 
 raven Bleak had been elected Perpetual Souse. 
 
 Purplevein, who was rather a decent sort, 
 hastened to Bleak s hotel to offer his congratu 
 lations. Bleak, who was sitting quietly with 
 Mrs. Bleak, Quimbleton and Theodolinda, 
 greeted him calmly. Poor Purplevein was very 
 much broken up, and Quimbleton and Theodo 
 linda, in the goodness of their hearts, arranged 
 a quiet little seance for his benefit. They all 
 sat their drinking psychic Three-Star in honor 
 of the event. As Quimbleton said, helping 
 Purplevein back to his motor: "Hitch your 
 flagon to a Star." 
 
CHAPTER XJ 
 E PLURIBUS UNUM: 
 
 VIRGIL and Theodolinda were return 
 ing from their honeymoon, which they 
 had spent touring in Quimbleton s 
 Spad plane. They had been in South America 
 most of the time, where they found charming 
 hosts eager to console them for the tragical 
 developments in the northern continent. 
 
 It was a superb morning in early autumn 
 when they were flying homeward. Beneath 
 them lay the green and level meadows of New 
 Jersey, and the dusky violet blue of the ocean 
 shading to a translucent olive where long 
 ridges of foam crumbled upon pale beaches. 
 They turned inland, flying leisurely to admire 
 the beauty of the scene. The mounting sun 
 spread a golden shimmer over woods and corn- 
 stubble. White roads ran like ribbons across 
 the landscape. Quimbleton glided gently 
 
 downward, intending to skim low over the tree- 
 
 146 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 147 
 
 tops so that his bride might enjoy the rich love 
 liness of the view. 
 
 Suddenly the great plane dipped sharply, 
 tilted, and very nearly fell into a side-slip. 
 Quimbleton was just able to pull her up again 
 and climbed steeply to a safer altitude. He 
 looked at his dashboard dials and indicators 
 with a puzzled face. "Very queer," he said to 
 Theodolinda through the speaking tube, "the 
 air here has very little carrying power. It 
 seems extraordinarily thin. You might think 
 we were flying in a partial vacuum." 
 
 From the behavior of the plane it was evi- 
 dent that some curious atmospheric condition 
 was prevailing. There seemed to be a large 
 hole or pocket in the air, and in spite of his 
 best efforts the pilot was unable to get on even 
 wing. Finally, fearing to lapse into a tail spin, 
 he planed down to make a landing. Beneath 
 them was a beautiful green lawn surrounded 
 by groves of trees. In the middle of this lawn 
 they struck gently, taxied across the smooth 
 turf, and came to a stop beneath a splendid oak. 
 Quimbleton assisted his wife to get out, and 
 they sat down for a few minutes rest under 
 the tree. 
 
148 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 : "WHat a heavenly spot !" cried Theodolinda* 
 : "I wonder where we are?" 
 
 "Somewhere in New Jersey/ said her hus 
 band. "I don t understand what was the mat 
 ter with the air. It didn t act according to 
 Hoyle." 
 
 They gazed about them in some surprise at 
 the opulent beauty of the scene. It seemed to 
 be a kind of park, laid out in lawns, gardens 
 and shrubbery, with groves of old trees here 
 and there. A little artificial lake twinkled in 
 a hollow. 
 
 They happened to be gazing upward when a 
 small round ball of tawny color fell from the 
 tree. It was a robin. Folded solidly for sleep, 
 he fell unresisting by the flutter of a wing, 
 turning over and over gently until he struck 
 the turf with the tiniest of soft thuds. He 
 bounced slightly, rolled a little distance, and 
 settled motionless in the grass. 
 
 Quimbleton, amazed, stooped over the fallen 
 bird, supposing it to be dead. Without lifting 
 it from the ground he withdrew its head from 
 under its wing. The bright eye unlidded and 
 gazed at him sleepily. Then the bird closed its 
 eye with a certain weary resignation, put its 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 149 
 
 head back under its wing, and relaxed com 
 fortably in the grass. 
 
 Quimbleton was no very acute student of 
 nature, but this seemed very odd to him. And 
 then, examining the lower limbs of the tree, 
 he uttered an exclamation. He swung him 
 self up into the oak and shook one of the 
 branches. Five other birds plopped comfort 
 ably into the grass and rested as easily as the 
 first. He examined them one by one. They 
 were all sound asleep. 
 
 "Most amazing! he said. "My dear, we 
 will have to take up nature study. I am really 
 ashamed of my ignorance. I always thought 
 that owls were the only birds that slept by day." 
 
 Theodolinda was looking at the five small 
 bodies. She raised one of them gently, and 
 sniffed gingerly. 
 
 "Virgil," she said solemnly, "this is not 
 mere slumber. These birds are drunk !" 
 
 Quimbleton was about to speak when a 
 grasshopper went by like an airplane, zooming 
 in a twenty-foot leap. A bee sagged along 
 heavily in an irregular zig-zag, and a cater 
 pillar, more agile and purposeful than any 
 caterpillar they had ever seen, staggered swift 
 ly across a carpet of moss. 
 
150 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 The same thought struck them simultane 
 ously, and at that moment Theodolinda noticed 
 a small white signboard affixed to a tree-trunk 
 in the grove. They ran to it, and saw in neat 
 lettering : 
 
 "Bless me!" cried Quimbleton. "What a 
 stroke of luck! You know old Bleak wrote us 
 when we were in Rio that he had been installed 
 in his temple, but he didn t say where it was. 
 ,et s toddle up and have a look at him. That s 
 why the bus acted so queerly. No wonder: 
 we were probably flying in alcohol vapor." 
 
 They walked through the grove and emerged 
 upon a lawn that sloped gently upward. At 
 the brow stood a beautiful little temple of 
 Greek architecture. As they approached they 
 read, carved into the marble architrave : 
 
 JEDES TEMULENTI PERPETUI 
 E PLURIBUS UNUM 
 
 The little porch, under the marble columns, 
 was cool and shady. A signboard said : Visit 
 ing Hours, Noon to Midnight. Quimbleton 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 15* 
 
 looked at his watch. "It s not noon yet," he 
 said, "but as we re old friends I dare say he ll 
 be willing to see us." 
 
 Pushing through a slatted swinging door 
 of beautifully carved bronze, they found them 
 selves in a charmingly furnished reference li 
 brary. There were lounges and deep leather 
 chairs, and ash trays for smokers. Quimble- 
 ton, who was something of a bookworm, ran 
 his eye along the shelves. "A very neat idea," 
 he said. "They have collected a little library 
 of all the standard works on drink. This 
 should be of great value to future historians 
 and researchers." 
 
 Through another swinging door they found 
 the central shrine. 
 
 It was circular in shape, illuminated through 
 a clear skylight. Under the rotunda was a 
 low, broad marble counter, surmounted by a 
 gleaming mirror and a noble array of bottles, 
 flasks, decanters, goblets and glasses of every 
 size. The pale yellow of white wines, the ruby 
 of claret, the tawny brown of port, the green 
 and violet and rose of various liqueurs, spark 
 led in their appointed vessels. In front of 
 this altar stood a three-foot mahogany bar, 
 with its scrolled rim and diminutive brass rail, 
 
152 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 all complete. A red velvet cord hung from 
 brass posts separated it from the open floor. 
 
 A series of mural paintings, in the vivid 
 coloring and superb technique of Maxfield Par- 
 rish, adorned the walls of the room. They 
 portrayed the history of Alcohol from the dawn 
 of time down to the summer of 1919. A space 
 for one more painting was lefr blank, and Mr. 
 and Mrs. Quimbleton concluded that the artist 
 was still at work upon the final panel. 
 
 An attendant in white was polishing glasses 
 behind the tiny bar. He was an elderly man 
 with a pink clean-shaven face and the initials 
 P. S. were embroidered on the collar of his 
 starched jacket. There was an air of evident 
 pride in his bearing as he listened to their ex 
 clamations of admiration. 
 
 "Your first visit, sir?" he said. 
 
 "Yes," said Quimbleton. "I must confess I 
 had no idea it would be as fine as this. What 
 time does Mr. Bleak get in?" 
 
 "He usually opens up with a nip of Scotch 
 about eleven-thirty," said the bartender. "Just 
 so as to get up a little circulation before open 
 ing time. He s got a hard afternoon before 
 him to-day," he added. 
 
 "How do you mean?" said Quimbleton. 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 153 
 
 "One of the excursion trains coming. The 
 railroad runs cheap excursions here three days 
 a week, and the crowds is enormous. When 
 there s a bunch like that there s always a lot 
 wants Mr. Bleak to take some special drink 
 they used to be partial to, just to recall old 
 times. Of course, being what you might call 
 a servant of the public, he doesn t like not to 
 oblige. But I doubt whether he s got the con 
 stitution to stand it long. The other day the 
 Mint Julep Veterans of Kentucky held a me 
 morial day here, and Mr. Bleak had to sink 
 fifteen juleps to satisfy them. I tell him not 
 to push himself too far, but he s still pretty new 
 at the job. He likes to go over the top every 
 day." ; 
 
 "Your face is very familiar," said Theodo- 
 linda. "Where have we seen you before?" 
 
 "I wondered if you d recognize me," said 
 the bartender. "I ve shaved off my mustache. 
 I m Jerry Purplevein. When I was turned 
 down in that election I thought this would be 
 the next best thing. As a matter of fact, it s 
 better. I don t really care for the stuff; I just 
 like to see it around. Miss Absinthe felt the 
 same way. She s head stewardess up to the 
 Hostess House." 
 
154 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 "It seems to me I used to see you somewhere 
 in New York," said Quimbleton. 
 
 "I was head bar at the Hotel Pennsylvania/ 
 said Jerry. "We had the finest bar in the 
 world, had only been running a couple of 
 months when prohibition come in. They 
 turned it into a soda fountain. Ah, that was 
 a tragedy ! But this is a grand job. Govern 
 ment service, you see : sure pay, tony surround 
 ings, and what you might call steady custom. 
 Mr. Bleak is as nice a gentleman to mix em for 
 as I ever see." 
 
 "But what is this for?" asked Theodolinda, 
 pointing to a beautiful marble cash register. 
 "Surely Mr. Bleak doesn t have to buy his 
 drinks?" 
 
 "No, ma am," said Jerry, "but he likes to 
 have em rung up same as customary. He says 
 it makes it seem more natural. Here he is 
 now!" 
 
 Jerry flew to attention behind the three-foot 
 bar, and they turned to see their friend enter 
 through the bronze swinging doors. 
 
 "Well, well!" cried Bleak. "This is a de 
 lightful surprise!" 
 
 He was dressed in a lounging suit of fine 
 texture, and while he seemed a little thinner 
 
THIS IS A GRAND JOB.1 SAID 
 JERRY, f GOVERNMENT SERVICE. YOV 
 SEE." 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 157 
 
 and paler, and His eyes a little weary, he was in 
 excellent spirits. 
 
 "Come," he said, "you re just in time for a 
 bite of lunch. Jerry, what s on the counter 
 to-day?" 
 
 Jerry bustled proudly over to the free-lunch 
 counter, whipped off the steam-covers, and dis 
 closed a fragrant joint of corned beef nestling 
 among cabbages and boiled potatoes. With the 
 delight of the true artist he seized a long nar 
 row carving knife, gave it a few passes along 
 a steel, and sliced off generous portions of the 
 beef onto plates bearing the P. S. monogram. 
 This they supplemented with other selections 
 from the liberally supplied free-lunch counter. 
 Soft, crumbling orange cheese, pickles, smoked 
 sardines, chopped liver, olives, pretzels all the 
 now- for gotten appetizers were laid out on 
 broad silver platters. 
 
 "I wish I could offer you a drink," said 
 Bleak, "but as you know, it would be uncon 
 stitutional. With your permission, I shall have 
 to have something. My office hours begin 
 shortly, and some one might come in." 
 
 He took up his station at the little bar be 
 hind the velvet cord, and slid his left foot onto 
 the miniature rail. Jerry, with the air of an 
 
158 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 artist about to resume work on his favorite 
 masterpiece, stood expectant. 
 
 "A little Scotch, Jerry/ said Bleak. 
 
 In the manner reminiscent of an elder day 
 Jerry wiped away imaginary moisture from the 
 mahogany with a deft circular movement of a 
 white cloth. Turning to the gleaming pyramid 
 of glassware, he set out the decanter of whis 
 key, a small empty glass, and a twin glass two- 
 thirds full of water. His motions were elab 
 orately careless and automatic, but he was 
 plainly bursting with joy to be undergoing 
 such expert and affectionate scrutiny. 
 
 Bleak poured out three fingers of whiskey, 
 and held up the baby tumbler. 
 
 "Here s to the happy couple!" he cried, and 
 drank it in one swift, practiced gesture. He 
 then swallowed about a tablespoon ful of the 
 water. Jerry removed the utensils, again 
 wiped the immaculate bar, and rang the cash 
 less cash-register. The Perpetual Souse smiled 
 happily. 
 
 That s how it s done," he said. "Do you 
 remember?" 
 
 "We re just back from South America," said 
 Quimbleton. 
 
 "Some of the boys from the old Balloon office 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 159 
 
 were in here the other day," said Bleak. "I m 
 afraid it was rather too much for them in 
 an emotional way, I mean. I tossed off a few 
 for their benefit, and one of them the cartoon 
 ist he used to be, perhaps you remember him 
 fainted with excitement/ 
 
 "Well, how do you like the job?" said Quim- 
 bleton. 
 
 Bleak did not answer this directly. Making 
 an apology to Jerry and promising to be back 
 in a few minutes, he escorted his visitors round 
 the temple and gave them some of the picture 
 postcards of himself that were sold to souvenir 
 hunters at five cents each. He showed them 
 the cafeteria for the convenience of visitors, 
 the Hostess House (where they found Mrs. 
 Bleak comfortably installed), the ice-making 
 machinery, the private brewery, and the 
 motor-truck used to transport supplies. In a 
 corner of the garden they found the children 
 playing. 
 
 "It s a good thing the children enjoy playing 
 with empty bottles," said Bleak. "It s getting 
 to be quite a problem to know what to do with 
 them. I m using some of them to make a path 
 across the lawn, bury them bottom up, you 
 know. 
 
160 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 But you ask how I like it? I would never 
 admit it before Jerry, because the good fellow 
 expects more of me than I am able to fulfill, 
 but as a matter of fact this is hardly a one-man 
 job. There ought to be at least seven of us, 
 each to go on duty one day a week. No you 
 see, being a kind of government museum, I 
 don t even get Sundays off because lots of peo 
 ple can only get here that day. Next after 
 Mount Vernon and Independence Hall, I get 
 more visitors than any other national shrine. 
 And almost all of them expect me to have a go 
 at their favorite drink while they re watching 
 me. Being what you might call the most pub 
 lic spirited man in the country, I have to oblige 
 them as much as possible. But I doubt whether 
 I shall be a candidate for reelection. 
 
 "I think the government has rather overesti 
 mated my capacity," he continued. "They im 
 port a shipload of stuff from abroad every 
 month, and send an auditor here to check over 
 my empties. I ve been hard put to it to get 
 away with all the stuff. I ve had to fall back 
 on your old plan of using wine to irrigate the 
 garden. It s had rather a dissipating effect on 
 the birds and insects, though. Really, you 
 ought to spend an evening here some time. 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY i6r 
 
 The birds sing all night long: they have to 
 sleep it off in the morning. A robin with a 
 hang-over is one of the funniest things in the 
 world." 
 
 "We saw one !" cried Theodolinda. "He was 
 more than hanging over he had fallen right 
 off!" 
 
 "There s a butterfly here," said Bleak 
 "Rather a friend of mine, who can give a bum 
 ble bee the knock-out after he gets his drop of 
 rum. I ve seen him chase a wasp all over the 
 lot." 
 
 From the temple came the sound of chimes 
 striking twelve, and down in the valley they 
 heard the whistle of a train. 
 
 "There s the excursion train leaving Souse 
 Junction," said Bleak. "I must get back to 
 the bar!" 
 
 They returned to the shrine, and Bleak en 
 tered his little enclosure. 
 
 "Jerry," he said, "the crowd will soon be 
 here. I must get busy. What do you recom 
 mend?" 
 
 "Better stick to the Scotch," said Jerry, and 
 put the decanter on the mahogany. Bleak 
 drank two slugs hastily, and turned to his 
 friends with an almost wistful air. 
 
162 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 "Come again and stay longer," he said. "I 
 see so many strangers, I get homesick for a 
 friendly face." He called Quimbleton aside. 
 "Does Mrs. Quimbleton keep up her trances?" 
 he whispered. 
 
 "Not recently," said Virgil. "You see, in 
 South America there was no necessity but 
 when we get settled " 
 
 "You are a lucky fellow," whispered Bleak. 
 "All the enjoyment without any of the formal 
 ities!" And he added aloud, grasping their 
 hands, "Next time, come in the evening. A 
 man in my line of work is hardly at his best 
 before nightfall." 
 
 As they walked back to the plane, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Quimbleton saw the excursionists, a thou 
 sand or so, hastening through the park on 
 foot and in huge sight-seeing cars where men 
 with megaphones were roaring comments. 
 One group of pedestrians bore a large banner 
 lettered EGG NOG MEMORIAL ASSOCIA 
 TION OF CAMDEN, N. J. 
 
 "Poor Mr. Bleak!" said Theodolinda. "On 
 top of all that Scotch!" 
 
 When they took the air again they circled 
 over the temple at a safe height. They could 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 163 
 
 see the crowd gathered densely round the little 
 white columns. Virgil shut off the motor for 
 a moment, and even at that distance they could 
 hear the sound of cheers. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 IT J S A LONG WORM THAT HAS NO TURNING 
 
 BISHOP CHUFF sat sourly in his office 
 and sighed for more worlds to canker. 
 Round the room stood the tall filing 
 cases containing card indexes of prohibited 
 offences, and he looked gloomily over the 
 crowded drawers in the vain hope of finding 
 something that had been overlooked. He 
 pulled out a drawer at random Schedule K- 
 36, Minor Social Offenses and ran his embit 
 tered eye over a card. It was marked Conver 
 sational Felonies, and began thus: 
 
 Arguing 
 
 Blandishing 
 
 Buffoonery 
 
 Contradicting 
 
 Demurring 
 
 Ejaculating 
 
 Exaggerating 
 
 Facetiousness 
 
 Giggling 
 
 164 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 165 
 
 Hemming and Hawing 
 
 Implying 
 
 Insisting 
 
 Jesting 
 
 Each item also referred to another card on 
 which the penalty was noted and legal test 
 cases summarized. 
 
 "No," he brooded, "there is nothing left." 
 Even the most loyal of the Bishop s Staff 
 admitted that he was far from well, and it was 
 decided that he ought to take a vacation. He 
 himself concurred in this, and as the home re 
 sorts were no longer places of mirth and glee, 
 he determined to go to Europe. This would 
 have the added advantage of enabling him to 
 spend some time conferring with prohibition 
 leaders abroad as to ways and means of con 
 verting Europe to his schemes of reform. 
 Everyone in the office showed genuine unsel 
 fishness in making plans for the Bishop s vaca 
 tion, and he was urged to stay away as long as 
 he felt he could be spared. Europe, too, was 
 much excited over the prospect of his coming, 
 and the British prime minister was questioned 
 on the subject in the House of Commons. For 
 his entertainment on the voyage a set of twelve 
 beautiful folio volumes, bound in black moroc- 
 
1 66 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 co, were prepared. They contained a digest of 
 prohibition legislation which Chuff had been 
 instrumental in having put on the statutes. 
 For the first time in years the Bishop was 
 cheered as he passed about the streets, and he 
 realized that he had never known how popular 
 he was until it was announced that he was 
 going away. 
 
 But still he was not content. One morning, 
 not long before the date set for his sailing, he 
 sat gloomily at his desk. He was engaged in 
 making his will, and had found to his secret 
 bitterness that after bequeathing a few per 
 sonal trinkets to the office staff there was really 
 no one to whom he could leave the bulk of his 
 misfortune. Theodolinda, of course, he had 
 quite cut off from his estate. He only knew 
 that she was living somewhere with the de 
 graded Quimbleton, carrying on a little psychic 
 tavern which no laws could reach, in a state of 
 criminal happiness. 
 
 From the street, far beneath his open win 
 dow, he heard the clamor of a police patrol and 
 leaned eagerly over the sill in the hope of see 
 ing something that would cheer his black mood. 
 But it was only a man being arrested for lean 
 ing against a lamp-post a rather common 
 
IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 167 
 
 offence at that time, for most of the normal 
 occupations of the citizens had been prohibited, 
 and they mooned about the highways in a state 
 of listless discontent. But then, farther down 
 the channel of the street, he saw something 
 that caught his eye. A group of people were 
 marching with flags and signs toward the rail 
 way station. Saturday School Picnic to Souse 
 Temple, he read on a banner. He noticed that 
 in spite of all the laws against smiling in pub 
 lic, these people bore a look of suppressed mer 
 riment. They were obviously out for a good 
 time. A sudden thought struck him. 
 
 That afternoon, in impenetrable disguise, 
 the Bishop paid his first visit to the Temple of 
 Dunraven Bleak. 
 
 The next morning, when his subordinates 
 came to see him about the final plans for his 
 departure, they were horrified to find him sit 
 ting at his desk wearing in the recesses of his 
 beard what would have been called (on any 
 other man) a smile. 
 
 "I have changed my mind," he said. "I am 
 not going away." 
 
 They cried out in amazement, and pointed 
 out to him how sorely in need of relaxation 
 he was. 
 
1 68 IN THE SWEET DRY AND DRY 
 
 "I am planning relaxation," he said, and that 
 was all they could get out of him. 
 
 Later in the day a confidential messenger 
 was dispatched to the private printing press of 
 the Chuff Organization, bearing the text of a 
 poster which was found broadcast over the 
 whole country a few days later. It ran thus : 
 
 AT THE NEXT ELECTION 
 
 For Perpetual Souse 
 
 VOTE FOR CHUFF 
 
 The People s Friend 
 
 THE END 
 
RETURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT 
 
 TO *> 202 Main Library 
 
 LOAN PERIOD 1 
 HOME USE 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS 
 
 Renewals and Recharges may be made 4 days prior to the due date. 
 
 Books may be Renewed by calling 642-3405. 
 
 DUE AS STAMPED BELOW 
 
 APR171! 
 
 AUTO DISC MAR \ 
 
 1989 
 
 FORM NO. DD6 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY 
 BERKELEY, CA 94720 
 
BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
 M531663 
 
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