until he was mildly lighted up and I was slightly aware that I had
drunk some whisky. Now why did I do this? I don't know, save that the
old schooling held, the training of the old days and nights glass in hand
with men, the drinking ways of drink and drinkers.

Besides, I no longer feared John Barleycorn. Mine was that most
dangerous stage when a man believes himself John Barleycorn's master. I
had proved it to my satisfaction in the long years of work and study. I
could drink when I wanted, refrain when I wanted, drink without getting
drunk, and to cap everything I was thoroughly conscious that I had no
liking for the stuff. During this period I drank precisely for the same
reason I had drunk with Scotty and the harpooner and with the oyster
pirates--because it was an act that men performed with whom I wanted to
behave as a man. These brilliant ones, these adventurers of the mind,
drank. Very well. There was no reason I should not drink with them--I
who knew so confidently that I had nothing to fear from John Barleycorn.

And the foregoing was my attitude of mind for years. Occasionally I got
well jingled, but such occasions were rare. It interfered with my work,
and I permitted nothing to interfere with my work. I remember, when
spending several months in the East End of London, during which time I
wrote a book and adventured much amongst the worst of the slum classes,
that I got drunk several times and was mightily wroth with myself because
it interfered with my writing. Yet these very times were because I was
out on the adventure-path where John Barleycorn is always to be found.

Then, too, with the certitude of long training and unholy intimacy, there
were occasions when I engaged in drinking bouts with men. Of course,
this was on the adventure-path in various parts of the world, and it was
a matter of pride. It is a queer man-pride that leads one to drink with
men in order to show as strong a head as they. But this queer man-pride
is no theory. It is a fact.

For instance, a wild band of young revolutionists invited me as the guest
of honour to a beer bust. It is the only technical beer bust I ever
attended. I did not know the true inwardness of the affair when I
accepted. I imagined that the talk would be wild and high, that some of
them might drink more than they ought, and that I would drink discreetly.
But it seemed these beer busts were a diversion of these high-spirited
young fellows w