"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 sinister4 seductions of drink. Little Red Riding Hood5 and the Wolf, for instance, became a symbol of young womanhood pursued by the devouring6 Bronx cocktail7. The princess from whose mouth came toads8 and snakes was (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 provided, was the Demon9 Rum. It is really amazing what stirring prohibition10 propaganda fairy tales contain if you know how to interpret them.
"All this kind of palaver11 naturally roused my childish curiosity as to the subject of intoxicants. But, like a docile12 daughter, I fell into the career marked out for me by my father. I became a militant13 for the Pan-Antis. I distributed tracts14 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 irresistibly15 alluring16. You remember the story of Mrs. Bluebeard.
"It occurred to me, after booze had gone, that it was a sad thing that I, Bishop17 Chuff's daughter, who was devoting my life to the prohibition cause, should have not the slightest knowledge of the nature of this hideous18 evil we had been pursuing. I brooded over this a great deal, and fell into a melancholy19 state. The thought came to me, there must be some virtue20 in drink, or why would so many people have stubbornly contested its abolition21? It would be too long a story to tell you all the details, but it was at that time that I first became aware of my psychic22 gift."
"Your psychic gift?" queried23 Bleak24, wondering.
She turned her bright beer-brown eyes upon him gravely. "Yes," she said, "I am an alcoholic25 medium. It is the latest and most superior 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 spirits. A good drink does not die, you know: its soul hovers26 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 bereaved27 ones in communication with their dear departed spirits. To hear the table-rappings and the shouts of ecstasy28 you would perceive that a great deal of the anguish29 of separation is assuaged30."
"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 brass31 rail for the worshipers to put their feet on, and an empty tumbler to concentrate the power of yearning33. 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 produces 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 thronged35 with them, and they are just as eager to come back as their friends could be to welcome them. One good yearn32 deserves another, as we say. The only time when these seances fail is when some inharmonious soul is present—some personality not completely EN RAPPORT36 with the spirit of the gathering37. I remember, for instance, an occasion when a gentleman from Kentucky had most ardently38 desired to get into communication with the astrals of some mint juleps he had loved very deeply in life. Everything seemed propitious39, but though I struggled hard I simply could not get the julep spirit to descend40 to our mortal plane. Finally I made inquiry41 and found that one of the guests was a root-beer manufacturer. Of course you may say that was petty jealousy42 on the side of the departed, but even these vanished spirits have their human phases."
She was silent for a moment.
"You can imagine," she said, "what a perplexity I was in when I discovered these hitherto unsuspected powers in myself. Was I justified43 in putting them to use, for the good of humanity? And wasn't there a certain pathetic significance in the fact that I, the daughter 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 harangues44, I had never heard my Father attack anything but the actual DRINKING 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."
"Virgil?" said Bleak, absent-mindedly, for he was wondering whether he might be privileged 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 champagne45 and angostura—which insisted that it would be inconsolable until it could get in contact with Quimbleton and reassure46 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 touching47, 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 revel48 with the spirit of his dear comrade. This common bond soon ripened49 into Jove, and we became betrothed50."
She stripped off one of her gloves and showed Bleak a beautiful amethyst51 ring.
"This is my engagement ring," she said. "It's a very precious symbol, for Quimbleton explained to me that the amethyst is a talisman52 against drunkenness. I looked it up in the dictionary, and found that he was right. As long as I wear this ring the departed spirits have no ill effect upon me. But I sometimes 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 shimmer53 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 Jersey54 the implacable hand of Chuff was at work. From a meadow near by they saw an observation balloon going up and the windlass unwinding its cable. A huge paraboloid breath-detector (or breathoscope) was stationed on a low ridge55. This terribly ingenious machine, which had just been invented by the pan-antis, records the vibrations56 of any alcoholic 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 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 ruses57 employed by the chuffs in their search for conscientious58 drinkers. The gun fires no projectile59, but produces a pleasant detonation60 like the swift and repeated drawing of corks61. Set up in the neighborhood of any bottle-habited man, it will invariably lure62 him into an approach. Near it was an ice-tinkling device, used for the same purposes of stratagem63.
"Poor Virgil!" said Miss Chuff with a sigh. "I'm afraid he has had a grievous ordeal64. We must run carefully now, so as not to give him away."
Fortunately Miss Chuff's presence at the wheel, and Bleak's credentials65 as war correspondent, enabled them to pass several scouting66 parties of chuff uhlans without suspicion. In this way they neared the extensive grounds surrounding the Federal Home for Inebriates67, Cana, N. J. This magnificent Gothic building, already showing some signs of decay from two years of vacancy68, stands on a slight eminence69 among what the real estate agents call "old shade," with a fine and carefully calculated view over one of the largest bodies of undrinkable fluid known to man, the Atlantic Ocean.
The car turned into a narrow sandy road skirting one side of the walled park. This byway was completely screened from outside observation by the high bulwark70 of the Home and by thick masses of rhododendron shrubbery. At a bend in the road Miss Chuff halted the motor, and motioned Bleak to descend.
"Now we will look for the persecuted71 patriot," she said.
Bleak took charge of the basket of food, and Miss Chuff drew a small rope ladder from a locker72 under the driver's seat. This she threw deftly73 up to the top of the wall, hooking it upon the iron spikes74. Bleak politely ascended75 first, and they scaled the wall, dropping down into a tangle76 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 inmate77 for two years. There was some talk of Father making this the headquarters of the Great General Strafe in this campaign, but I don't believe they have done so yet."
"Hush78!" said Bleak. "What is that I hear?"
A dull, regular, recurrent sound, a sort of rasping sigh, stole through the thickets79. They both listened in some agitation80.
"Sounds a little like an airplane, with one engine missing," said Bleak.
"Can it be the sea, the surf breaking on the sand?" 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 beckoned81 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 pathetic posture82 of sheer exhaustion83, lay Quimbleton, asleep. A droning snore buzzed heavily from where he lay.
"Poor Virgil!" said Miss Chuff. "How tired he looks."
He did, indeed. The gray and silver uniform was ragged84 and soil-stained; his boots were white with dust; his face was unshaved, 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 tragic85 evidence of a number of unsuccessful attempts to get fire from a Swedish tandsticker. Crumpled86 under the elbow of the indomitable idealist was a much-thumbed copy of The Bartender's Benefactor87, or How to Mix 1001 Drinks, in which he had been seeking imaginary solace88 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 effervesced89 with tenderness, until (as Bleak thought to himself) they were quite the color of brandy and soda90, without too much soda.
The sleeper91 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 enviously92. "Let him go to it while we reconnoiter. I believe 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 immediate93 danger of pursuit."
They set the basket of food beside Quimbleton, 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 amazement94, they saw the white banner of the Pan-Antis floating on one of the towers of the building, and the grounds about the Home blackened with a moving throng34. 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 seething95 of an ant-hill) that its units were imbued96 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 attacking the shrimp97 salad. Bleak courteously98 averted99 his eyes from the affectionate embrace of the lovers.
"Bless your heart for this grub," said Quimbleton to Bleak. "As soon as I smelt100 that shrimp 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 undiscovered long with all those people around. Who are they, anyway?"
Quimbleton had to delay his reply until deglutition had mastered a bulky consignment101 of shrimp. His large, resolute102 face, while somewhat marred103 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 arresting 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 interned104 in the Federal Home for a course in mental healing."
"But how can they tell?" asked Bleak, nervously105.
"I don't know," said Quimbleton. "Perhaps they have a kind of Third Degree, flash a seidel of beer on you suddenly, and if you make an involuntary gesture of pleasure, you're convicted. Perhaps they've invented an instrument that tells what you think about. Perhaps 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 Quimbleton sadly, "it wouldn't be so bad. But I must confess that these breath detectors106 and other unscrupulous instruments they use have rather unnerved me."
Bleak suddenly remembered, and thrust his 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 uniform—"
They discussed this problem at some length, sitting in the sheltered bowl of sand, while Quimbleton finished his lunch. Bleak's suggestion of stitching together a sort of Robinson 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 kit107 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 squad108 if it were seen."
This seemed a good idea. Bleak volunteered 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 Quimbleton's hiding place many yards of pale lilac colored twill (or whatever it is) and a flask109 of iced tea. In spite of distant sounds of warfare110, the time passed pleasantly enough. Miss Chuff cut out and stitched assiduously; Quimbleton and Bleak, under her directions, sewed on the buttons snipped111 from the uniform. Birds twittered in the greenery about them, and they all felt something of the elation112 of a picnic when the garments were done and Quimbleton retired113 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 furnishings."
"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 possible."
They hastened back to the wall, scaled it with the rope ladder—and stared in dismay. The car had gone. They could see it far down the road, guarded by a group of Pan-Antis. A cordon114 of the enemy had been thrown completely round the Home and escape was impossible. Worse still, the treachery of Miss Chuff must have been discovered, and they trembled to think what retaliation115 the Bishop might devise.
In this moment of crisis Quimbleton regained116 his customary hardihood. Quilted in his lilac garments, with the white hedge of beard tossing in the breeze, he looked the dashing 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."
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1
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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malady
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| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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toads
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆( toad的名词复数 ) | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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palaver
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| adj.壮丽堂皇的；n.废话，空话 | |
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docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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militant
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| adj.激进的，好斗的；n.激进分子，斗士 | |
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tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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abolition
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| n.废除，取消 | |
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psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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alcoholic
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| adj.（含）酒精的，由酒精引起的；n.酗酒者 | |
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hovers
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| 鸟( hover的第三人称单数 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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bereaved
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| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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assuaged
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| v.减轻( assuage的过去式和过去分词 )；缓和；平息；使安静 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rapport
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| n.和睦，意见一致 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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harangues
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| n.高谈阔论的长篇演讲( harangue的名词复数 )v.高谈阔论( harangue的第三人称单数 ) | |
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45
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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49
ripened
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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51
amethyst
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| n.紫水晶 | |
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talisman
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| n.避邪物，护身符 | |
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shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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56
vibrations
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| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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ruses
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| n.诡计，计策( ruse的名词复数 ) | |
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conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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59
projectile
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| n.投射物，发射体；adj.向前开进的；推进的；抛掷的 | |
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60
detonation
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| n.爆炸；巨响 | |
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corks
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| n.脐梅衣；软木( cork的名词复数 )；软木塞 | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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stratagem
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| n.诡计，计谋 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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credentials
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| n.证明，资格，证明书，证件 | |
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scouting
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| 守候活动，童子军的活动 | |
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inebriates
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| vt.使酒醉，灌醉（inebriate的第三人称单数形式） | |
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vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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bulwark
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| n.堡垒，保障，防御 | |
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persecuted
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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72
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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inmate
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| n.被收容者；(房屋等的)居住人；住院人 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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effervesced
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| v.冒气泡，起泡沫( effervesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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imbued
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| v.使（某人/某事）充满或激起（感情等）( imbue的过去式和过去分词 )；使充满；灌输；激发（强烈感情或品质等） | |
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shrimp
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| n.虾，小虾；矮小的人 | |
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courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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101
consignment
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| n.寄售；发货；委托；交运货物 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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103
marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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104
interned
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| v.拘留，关押( intern的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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106
detectors
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| 探测器( detector的名词复数 ) | |
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107
kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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111
snipped
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| v.剪( snip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112
elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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113
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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114
cordon
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| n.警戒线，哨兵线 | |
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115
retaliation
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| n.报复，反击 | |
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116
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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