the stuff had a surf like the sea--
No vintage was anywhere vatted
Too strong for ventripotent me!

I 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 home I was perfectly able,
Erect, or at least on all fours.

Although I was often some swiller,
I never was fuddled or blowsed;
My hand was still firm on the tiller,
No matter how deep I caroused;
But now they have put an embargo
On jazz-juice that tingles the spine,

We can't 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, Quimbleton's face took on the glow
of simple benignance that Bleak had first observed at the time of the
julep incident in the Balloon office. The flush of a warm, impulsive
idealism over-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 fiancee, 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 (happily for us) of extraordinary psychic powers.
I have persuaded her to demonstrate them for our benefit. If you will
follow my instructions implicitly, you will have the good fortune 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 requir