tion, no longer tried to understand.

The ladies preferred the "creams"; they had cream of moka, of cacao, of
mint, of vanilla. Marie Rouget drank one night so much anisette that she
was sick.

Margot and the other young ladies tapped the curacao, the benedictine,
the trappistine, the chartreuse. As to the cassis, it was reserved for
the little children. Naturally the men rejoiced more when they caught
cognacs, rums, gins, everything that burned the mouth. Then surprises
produced themselves. A cask of _raki_ of Chio, flavored with mastic,
stupefied Coqueville, which thought that it had fallen on a cask of
essence of turpentine. All the same they drank it, for they must lose
nothing; but they talked about it for a long time. Arrack from Batavia,
Swedish eau-de-vie with cumin, tuica calugaresca from Rumania, slivowitz
from Servia, all equally overturned every idea that Coqueville had of
what one should endure. At heart they had a weakness for kuemmel and
kirschwasser, for liqueurs as pale as water and stiff enough to kill a
man.

Heavens! was it possible so many good things had been invented! At
Coqueville they had known nothing but eau-de-vie; and, moreover, not
every one at that. So their imaginations finished in exultation; they
arrived at a state of veritable worship, in face of that inexhaustible
variety, for that which intoxicates. Oh! to get drunk every night on
something new, on something one does not even know the name of!
It seemed like a fairy-tale, a rain, a fountain, that would spout
extraordinary liquids, all the distilled alcohols, perfumed with all the
flowers and all the fruits of creation.

So then, Friday evening, there were seven casks on the beach! Coqueville
did not leave the beach. They lived there, thanks to the mildness of the
season. Never in September had they enjoyed so fine a week. The fete
had lasted since Monday, and there was no reason why it should not last
forever if Providence should continue to send them casks; for the Abbe
Radiguet saw therein the hand of Providence. All business was suspended;
what use drudging when pleasure came to them in their sleep? They were
all bourgeois, bourgeois who were drinking expensive liquors without
having to pay anything at the cafe. With hands in pocket, Coqueville
basked in the sunshine waiting for the evening's spree. Moreover, it
did not sober up; it enjoyed side by side the gaieties of kuemmel, of
kirsch-wasser, of ratafia; in seven days they