ve never been inveigled into another beer
bust. For that matter, that was my last drinking bout of any sort. Oh,
I have drunk ever since, but with more wisdom, more discretion, and never
in a competitive spirit. It is thus that the seasoned drinker grows
seasoned.

To show that at this period in my life drinking was wholly a matter of
companionship, I remember crossing the Atlantic in the old Teutonic. It
chanced, at the start, that I chummed with an English cable operator and
a younger member of a Spanish shipping firm. Now the only thing they
drank was "horse's neck"--a long, soft, cool drink with an apple peel or
an orange peel floating in it. And for that whole voyage I drank
horse's, necks with my two companions. On the other hand, had they drunk
whisky, I should have drunk whisky with them. From this it must not be
concluded that I was merely weak. I didn't care. I had no morality in
the matter. I was strong with youth, and unafraid, and alcohol was an
utterly negligible question so far as I was concerned.

CHAPTER XXVIII

Not yet was I ready to tuck my arm in John Barleycorn's. The older I
got, the greater my success, the more money I earned, the wider was the
command of the world that became mine and the more prominently did John
Barleycorn bulk in my life. And still I maintained no more than a
nodding acquaintance with him. I drank for the sake of sociability, and
when alone I did not drink. Sometimes I got jingled, but I considered
such jingles the mild price I paid for sociability.

To show how unripe I was for John Barleycorn, when, at this time, I
descended into my slough of despond, I never dreamed of turning to John
Barleycorn for a helping hand. I had life troubles and heart troubles
which are neither here nor there in this narrative. But, combined with
them, were intellectual troubles which are indeed germane.

Mine was no uncommon experience. I had read too much positive science
and lived too much positive life. In the eagerness of youth I had made
the ancient mistake of pursuing Truth too relentlessly. I had torn her
veils from her, and the sight was too terrible for me to stand. In
brief, I lost my fine faiths in pretty well everything except humanity,
and the humanity I retained faith in was a very stark humanity indeed.

This long sickness of pessimism is too well known to most of us to be
detailed here. Let it suffice to state that I had it very bad. I
meditate