CHAPTERI

Itallcametomeoneelectionday。ItwasonawarmCaliforniaafternoon，andIhadriddendownintotheValleyoftheMoonfromtheranchtothelittlevillagetovoteYesandNotoahostofproposedamendmentstotheConstitutionoftheStateofCalifornia。BecauseofthewarmthofthedayIhadhadseveraldrinksbeforecastingmyballot，anddiversdrinksaftercastingit。ThenIhadriddenupthroughthevine-cladhillsandrollingpasturesoftheranch，andarrivedatthefarm-houseintimeforanotherdrinkandsupper。

"Howdidyouvoteonthesuffrageamendment？"Charmianasked。

"Ivotedforit。"

Sheutteredanexclamationofsurprise。For，beitknown，inmyyoungerdays，despitemyardentdemocracy，Ihadbeenopposedtowomansuffrage。InmylaterandmoretolerantyearsIhadbeenunenthusiasticinmyacceptanceofitasaninevitablesocialphenomenon。

"Nowjustwhydidyouvoteforit？"Charmianasked。

Ianswered。Iansweredatlength。Iansweredindignantly。ThemoreIanswered，themoreindignantIbecame。（No；Iwasnotdrunk。ThehorseIhadriddenwaswellnamed"TheOutlaw。"I’dliketoseeanydrunkenmanrideher。）

Andyet——howshallIsay？——Iwaslightedup，Iwasfeeling"good，"

Iwaspleasantlyjingled。

"Whenthewomengettheballot，theywillvoteforprohibition，"I

said。"Itisthewives，andsisters，andmothers，andtheyonly，whowilldrivethenailsintothecoffinofJohnBarleycorn————"

"ButIthoughtyouwereafriendtoJohnBarleycorn，"Charmianinterpolated。

"Iam。Iwas。Iamnot。Ineveram。IamneverlesshisfriendthanwhenheiswithmeandwhenIseemmosthisfriend。Heisthekingofliars。Heisthefrankesttruthsayer。Heistheaugustcompanionwithwhomonewalkswiththegods。HeisalsoinleaguewiththeNoselessOne。Hiswayleadstotruthnaked，andtodeath。Hegivesclearvision，andmuddydreams。Heistheenemyoflife，andtheteacherofwisdombeyondlife’swisdom。Heisared-handedkiller，andheslaysyouth。"

AndCharmianlookedatme，andIknewshewonderedwhereIhadgotit。

Icontinuedtotalk。AsIsay，Iwaslightedup。Inmybraineverythoughtwasathome。Everythought，initslittlecell，crouchedready-dressedatthedoor，likeprisonersatmidnightajail-break。Andeverythoughtwasavision，bright-imaged，sharp-

cut，unmistakable。Mybrainwasilluminatedbytheclear，whitelightofalcohol。JohnBarleycornwasonatruth-tellingrampage，givingawaythechoicestsecretsonhimself。AndIwashisspokesman。Theremovedthemultitudesofmemoriesofmypastlife，allorderlyarrangedlikesoldiersinsomevastreview。Itwasminetopickandchoose。Iwasalordofthought，themasterofmyvocabularyandofthetotalityofmyexperience，unerringlycapableofselectingmydataandbuildingmyexposition。ForsoJohnBarleycorntricksandlures，settingthemaggotsofintelligencegnawing，whisperinghisfatalintuitionsoftruth，flingingpurplepassagesintothemonotonyofone’sdays。

IoutlinedmylifetoCharmian，andexpoundedthemake-upofmyconstitution。Iwasnohereditaryalcoholic。Ihadbeenbornwithnoorganic，chemicalpredispositiontowardalcohol。InthismatterIwasnormalinmygeneration。Alcoholwasanacquiredtaste。Ithadbeenpainfullyacquired。Alcoholhadbeenadreadfullyrepugnantthing——morenauseousthananyphysic。EvennowIdidnotlikethetasteofit。Idrankitonlyforits"kick。"Andfromtheageoffivetothatoftwenty-fiveIhadnotlearnedtocareforitskick。Twentyyearsofunwillingapprenticeshiphadbeenrequiredtomakemysystemrebelliouslytolerantofalcohol，tomakeme，intheheartandthedeepsofme，desirousofalcohol。

Isketchedmyfirstcontactswithalcohol，toldofmyfirstintoxicationsandrevulsions，andpointedoutalwaystheonethingthatintheendhadwonmeover——namely，theaccessibilityofalcohol。Notonlyhaditalwaysbeenaccessible，buteveryinterestofmydevelopinglifehaddrawnmetoit。Anewsboyonthestreets，asailor，aminer，awandererinfarlands，alwayswheremencametogethertoexchangeideas，tolaughandboastanddare，torelax，toforgetthedulltoiloftiresomenightsanddays，alwaystheycametogetheroveralcohol。Thesaloonwastheplaceofcongregation。Mengatheredtoitasprimitivemengatheredaboutthefireofthesquattingplaceorthefireatthemouthofthecave。

IremindedCharmianofthecanoehousesfromwhichshehadbeenbarredintheSouthPacific，wherethekinky-hairedcannibalsescapedfromtheirwomenkindandfeastedanddrankbythemselves，thesacredprecinctstabootowomenunderpainofdeath。Asayouth，bywayofthesaloonIhadescapedfromthenarrownessofwoman’sinfluenceintothewidefreeworldofmen。Allwaysledtothesaloon。Thethousandroadsofromanceandadventuredrewtogetherinthesaloon，andthenceledoutandonovertheworld。

"Thepointis，"Iconcludedmysermon，"thatitistheaccessibilityofalcoholthathasgivenmemytasteforalcohol。

Ididnotcareforit。Iusedtolaughatit。YethereIam，atthelast，possessedwiththedrinker’sdesire。Ittooktwentyyearstoimplantthatdesire；andfortenyearsmorethatdesirehasgrown。Andtheeffectofsatisfyingthatdesireisanythingbutgood。TemperamentallyIamwholesome-heartedandmerry。YetwhenIwalkwithJohnBarleycornIsufferallthedamnationofintellectualpessimism。

"But，"Ihastenedtoadd（Ialwayshastentoadd），"JohnBarleycornmusthavehisdue。Hedoestellthetruth。Thatisthecurseofit。Theso-calledtruthsoflifearenottrue。Theyarethevitalliesbywhichlifelives，andJohnBarleycorngivesthemthelie。"

"Whichdoesnotmaketowardlife，"Charmiansaid。

"Verytrue，"Ianswered。"Andthatistheperfectesthellofit。

JohnBarleycornmakestowarddeath。ThatiswhyIvotedfortheamendmentto-day。Ireadbackinmylifeandsawhowtheaccessibilityofalcoholhadgivenmethetasteforit。Yousee，comparativelyfewalcoholicsareborninageneration。AndbyalcoholicImeanamanwhosechemistrycravesalcoholanddriveshimresistlesslytoit。Thegreatmajorityofhabitualdrinkersarebornnotonlywithoutdesireforalcohol，butwithactualrepugnancetowardit。Notthefirst，northetwentieth，northehundredthdrink，succeededingivingthemtheliking。Buttheylearned，justasmenlearntosmoke；thoughitisfareasiertolearntosmokethantolearntodrink。Theylearnedbecausealcoholwassoaccessible。Thewomenknowthegame。Theypayforit——thewivesandsistersandmothers。Andwhentheycometovote，theywillvoteforprohibition。Andthebestofitisthattherewillbenohardshipworkedonthecominggeneration。Nothavingaccesstoalcohol，notbeingpredisposedtowardalcohol，itwillnevermissalcohol。Itwillmeanlifemoreabundantforthemanhoodoftheyoungboysbornandgrowingup——ay，andlifemoreabundantfortheyounggirlsbornandgrowinguptosharethelivesoftheyoungmen。"

"Whynotwriteallthisupforthesakeofthemenandwomencoming？"Charmianasked。"Whynotwriteitsoastohelpthewivesandsistersandmotherstothewaytheyshouldvote？"

"The’MemoirsofanAlcoholic，’"Isneered——or，rather，JohnBarleycornsneered；forhesatwithmethereattableinmypleasant，philanthropicjingle，anditisatrickofJohnBarleycorntoturnthesmiletoasneerwithoutaninstant’swarning。

"No，"saidCharmian，ignoringJohnBarleycorn’sroughness，assomanywomenhavelearnedtodo。"Youhaveshownyourselfnoalcoholic，nodipsomaniac，butmerelyanhabitualdrinker，onewhohasmadeJohnBarleycorn’sacquaintancethroughlongyearsofrubbingshoulderswithhim。Writeitupandcallit’AlcoholicMemoirs。’"

CHAPTERII

And，ereIbegin，Imustaskthereadertowalkwithmeinallsympathy；and，sincesympathyismerelyunderstanding，beginbyunderstandingmeandwhomandwhatIwriteabout。Inthefirstplace，Iamaseasoneddrinker。Ihavenoconstitutionalpredispositionforalcohol。Iamnotstupid。Iamnotaswine。

IknowthedrinkinggamefromAtoZ，andIhaveusedmyjudgmentindrinking。Ineverhavetobeputtobed。NordoIstagger。

Inshort，Iamanormal，averageman；andIdrinkinthenormal，averageway，asdrinkinggoes。Andthisistheverypoint：Iamwritingoftheeffectsofalcoholonthenormal，averageman。I

havenowordtosayfororaboutthemicroscopicallyunimportantexcessivist，thedipsomaniac。

Thereare，broadlyspeaking，twotypesofdrinkers。Thereisthemanwhomweallknow，stupid，unimaginative，whosebrainisbittennumblybynumbmaggots；whowalksgenerouslywithwide-spread，tentativelegs，fallsfrequentlyinthegutter，andwhosees，intheextremityofhisecstasy，bluemiceandpinkelephants。Heisthetypethatgivesrisetothejokesinthefunnypapers。

Theothertypeofdrinkerhasimagination，vision。Evenwhenmostpleasantlyjingled，hewalksstraightandnaturally，neverstaggersnorfalls，andknowsjustwhereheisandwhatheisdoing。Itisnothisbodybuthisbrainthatisdrunken。Hemaybubblewithwit，orexpandwithgoodfellowship。Orhemayseeintellectualspectresandphantomsthatarecosmicandlogicalandthattaketheformsofsyllogisms。Itiswheninthisconditionthathestripsawaythehusksoflife’shealthiestillusionsandgravelyconsiderstheironcollarofnecessityweldedabouttheneckofhissoul。ThisisthehourofJohnBarleycorn’ssubtlestpower。Itiseasyforanymantorollinthegutter。Butitisaterribleordealforamantostanduprightonhistwolegsunswaying，anddecidethatinalltheuniversehefindsforhimselfbutonefreedom——namely，theanticipatingofthedayofhisdeath。Withthismanthisisthehourofthewhitelogic（ofwhichmoreanon），whenheknowsthathemayknowonlythelawsofthings——themeaningofthingsnever。Thisishisdangerhour。

Hisfeetaretakingholdofthepathwaythatleadsdownintothegrave。

Alliscleartohim。Allthesebafflinghead-reachesafterimmortalityarebutthepanicsofsoulsfrightenedbythefearofdeath，andcursedwiththethrice-cursedgiftofimagination。

Theyhavenottheinstinctfordeath；theylackthewilltodiewhenthetimetodieisathand。Theytrickthemselvesintobelievingtheywilloutwitthegameandwintoafuture，leavingtheotheranimalstothedarknessofthegraveortheannihilatingheatsofthecrematory。Buthe，thismaninthehourofhiswhitelogic，knowsthattheytrickandoutwitthemselves。Theoneeventhappenethtoallalike。Thereisnonewthingunderthesun，noteventhatyearned-forbaubleoffeeblesouls——immortality。Butheknows，HEknows，standinguprightonhistwolegsunswaying。Heiscompoundedofmeatandwineandsparkle，ofsun-moteandworld-

dust，afrailmechanismmadetorunforaspan，tobetinkeredatbydoctorsofdivinityanddoctorsofphysic，andtobeflungintothescrap-heapattheend。

Ofcourse，allthisissoul-sickness，life-sickness。ItisthepenaltytheimaginativemanmustpayforhisfriendshipwithJohnBarleycorn。Thepenaltypaidbythestupidmanissimpler，easier。Hedrinkshimselfintosottishunconsciousness。Hesleepsadruggedsleep，and，ifhedream，hisdreamsaredimandinarticulate。Buttotheimaginativeman，JohnBarleycornsendsthepitiless，spectralsyllogismsofthewhitelogic。HelooksuponlifeandallitsaffairswiththejaundicedeyeofapessimisticGermanphilosopher。Heseesthroughallillusions。

Hetransvaluesallvalues。Goodisbad，truthisacheat，andlifeisajoke。Fromhiscalm-madheights，withthecertitudeofagod，hebeholdsalllifeasevil。Wife，children，friends——intheclear，whitelightofhislogictheyareexposedasfraudsandshams。Heseesthroughthem，andallthatheseesistheirfrailty，theirmeagreness，theirsordidness，theirpitifulness。

Nolongerdotheyfoolhim。Theyaremiserablelittleegotisms，likealltheotherlittlehumans，flutteringtheirMay-flylife-

danceofanhour。Theyarewithoutfreedom。Theyarepuppetsofchance。Soishe。Herealisesthat。Butthereisonedifference。Hesees；heknows。Andheknowshisonefreedom：hemayanticipatethedayofhisdeath。Allofwhichisnotgoodforamanwhoismadetoliveandloveandbeloved。Yetsuicide，quickorslow，asuddenspilloragradualoozingawaythroughtheyears，isthepriceJohnBarleycornexacts。Nofriendofhiseverescapesmakingthejust，duepayment。

CHAPTERIII

IwasfiveyearsoldthefirsttimeIgotdrunk。Itwasonahotday，andmyfatherwasploughinginthefield。Iwassentfromthehouse，halfamileaway，tocarrytohimapailofbeer。"Andbesureyoudon’tspillit，"wasthepartinginjunction。

Itwas，asIrememberit，alardpail，verywideacrossthetop，andwithoutacover。AsItoddledalong，thebeersloppedovertherimuponmylegs。AndasItoddled，Ipondered。Beerwasaverypreciousthing。Cometothinkofit，itmustbewonderfullygood。ElsewhywasIneverpermittedtodrinkofitinthehouse？

Otherthingskeptfrommebythegrown-upsIhadfoundgood。Thenthis，too，wasgood。Trustthegrown-ups。Theyknew。And，anyway，thepailwastoofull。Iwassloppingitagainstmylegsandspillingitontheground。Whywasteit？AndnoonewouldknowwhetherIhaddrunkorspilledit。

Iwassosmallthat，inordertonegotiatethepail，Isatdownandgathereditintomylap。FirstIsippedthefoam。Iwasdisappointed。Thepreciousnessevadedme。Evidentlyitdidnotresideinthefoam。Besides，thetastewasnotgood。ThenI

rememberedseeingthegrown-upsblowthefoamawaybeforetheydrank。Iburiedmyfaceinthefoamandlappedthesolidliquidbeneath。Itwasn’tgoodatall。ButstillIdrank。Thegrown-

upsknewwhattheywereabout。Consideringmydiminutiveness，thesizeofthepailinmylap，andmydrinkingoutofitmybreathheldandmyfaceburiedtotheearsinfoam，itwasratherdifficulttoestimatehowmuchIdrank。Also，Iwasgulpingitdownlikemedicine，innauseoushastetogettheordealover。

IshudderedwhenIstartedon，anddecidedthatthegoodtastewouldcomeafterward。Itriedseveraltimesmoreinthecourseofthatlonghalf-mile。Then，astoundedbythequantityofbeerthatwaslacking，andrememberinghavingseenstalebeermadetofoamafresh，Itookastickandstirredwhatwaslefttillitfoamedtothebrim。

Andmyfathernevernoticed。Heemptiedthepailwiththewidethirstofthesweatingploughman，returnedittome，andstarteduptheplough。Iendeavouredtowalkbesidethehorses。I

remembertotteringandfallingagainsttheirheelsinfrontoftheshiningshare，andthatmyfatherhauledbackonthelinessoviolentlythatthehorsesnearlysatdownonme。HetoldmeafterwardthatitwasbyonlyamatterofinchesthatIescapeddisembowelling。Vaguely，too，Iremember，myfathercarriedmeinhisarmstothetreesontheedgeofthefield，whilealltheworldreeledandswungaboutme，andIwasawareofdeadlynauseamingledwithanappallingconvictionofsin。

Islepttheafternoonawayunderthetrees，andwhenmyfatherrousedmeatsundownitwasaverysicklittleboythatgotupanddraggedwearilyhomeward。Iwasexhausted，oppressedbytheweightofmylimbs，andinmystomachwasaharp-likevibratingthatextendedtomythroatandbrain。Myconditionwaslikethatofonewhohadgonethroughabattlewithpoison。Intruth，Ihadbeenpoisoned。

IntheweeksandmonthsthatfollowedIhadnomoreinterestinbeerthaninthekitchenstoveafterithadburnedme。Thegrown-

upswereright。Beerwasnotforchildren。Thegrown-upsdidn’tmindit；butneitherdidtheymindtakingpillsandcastoroil。

Asforme，Icouldmanagetogetalongquitewellwithoutbeer。

Yes，andtothedayofmydeathIcouldhavemanagedtogetalongquitewellwithoutit。Butcircumstancedecreedotherwise。AteveryturnintheworldinwhichIlived，JohnBarleycornbeckoned。Therewasnoescapinghim。Allpathsledtohim。Andittooktwentyyearsofcontact，ofexchanginggreetingsandpassingonwithmytongueinmycheek，todevelopinmeasneakinglikingfortherascal。

CHAPTERIV

MynextboutwithJohnBarleycornoccurredwhenIwasseven。Thistimemyimaginationwasatfault，andIwasfrightenedintotheencounter。Stillfarming，myfamilyhadmovedtoaranchonthebleaksadcoastofSanMateoCounty，southofSanFrancisco。Itwasawild，primitivecountrysideinthosedays；andoftenIheardmymotherprideherselfthatwewereoldAmericanstockandnotimmigrantIrishandItalianslikeourneighbours。InalloursectiontherewasonlyoneotheroldAmericanfamily。

OneSundaymorningfoundme，howorwhyIcannotnowremember，attheMorriseyranch。Anumberofyoungpeoplehadgatheredtherefromthenearerranches。Besides，theoldstershadbeenthere，drinkingsinceearlydawn，and，someofthem，sincethenightbefore。TheMorriseyswereahugebreed，andthereweremanystrappinggreatsonsanduncles，heavy-booted，big-fisted，rough-

voiced。

Suddenlytherewerescreamsfromthegirlsandcriesof"Fight！"

Therewasarush。Menhurledthemselvesoutofthekitchen。Twogiants，flush-faced，withgreyinghair，werelockedineachother’sarms。OnewasBlackMatt，who，everybodysaid，hadkilledtwomeninhistime。Thewomenscreamedsoftly，crossedthemselves，orprayedbrokenly，hidingtheireyesandpeepingthroughtheirfingers。ButnotI。ItisafairpresumptionthatIwasthemostinterestedspectator。MaybeIwouldseethatwonderfulthing，amankilled。Anyway，Iwouldseeaman-fight。

Greatwasmydisappointment。BlackMattandTomMorriseymerelyheldontoeachotherandliftedtheirclumsy-bootedfeetinwhatseemedagrotesque，elephantinedance。Theyweretoodrunktofight。Thenthepeacemakersgotholdofthemandledthembacktocementthenewfriendshipinthekitchen。

Soontheywerealltalkingatonce，rumblingandroaringasbig-

chestedopen-airmenwill，whenwhiskyhaswhippedtheirtaciturnity。AndI，alittleshaverofseven，myheartinmymouth，mytremblingbodystrungtenseasadeer’sonthevergeofflight，peeredwonderinglyinattheopendoorandlearnedmoreofthestrangenessofmen。AndImarvelledatBlackMattandTomMorrisey，sprawledoverthetable，armsabouteachother’snecks，weepinglovingly。

Thekitchen-drinkingcontinued，andthegirlsoutsidegrewtimorous。Theyknewthedrinkgame，andallwerecertainthatsomethingterriblewasgoingtohappen。Theyprotestedthattheydidnotwishtobetherewhenithappened，andsomeonesuggestedgoingtoabigItalianranchofourmilesaway，wheretheycouldgetupadance。Immediatelytheypairedoff，ladandlassie，andstarteddownthesandyroad。Andeachladwalkedwithhissweetheart——trustachildofseventolistenandtoknowthelove-

affairsofhiscountryside。Andbehold，I，too，wasaladwithalassie。AlittleIrishgirlofmyownagehadbeenpairedoffwithme。Weweretheonlychildreninthisspontaneousaffair。

Perhapstheoldestcouplemighthavebeentwenty。Therewerechitsofgirls，quitegrownup，offourteenandsixteen，walkingwiththeirfellows。Butwewereuniquelyyoung，thislittleIrishgirlandI，andwewalkedhandinhand，and，sometimes，underthetutelageofourelders，withmyarmaroundherwaist。Onlythatwasn’tcomfortable。AndIwasveryproud，onthatbrightSundaymorning，goingdownthelongbleakroadamongthesandhills。I，too，hadmygirl，andwasalittleman。

TheItalianranchowasabachelorestablishment。Ourvisitwashailedwithdelight。Theredwinewaspouredintumblersforall，andthelongdining-roomwaspartlyclearedfordancing。Andtheyoungfellowsdrankanddancedwiththegirlstothestrainsofanaccordion。Tomethatmusicwasdivine。Ihadneverheardanythingsoglorious。TheyoungItalianwhofurnisheditwouldevengetupanddance，hisarmsaroundhisgirl，playingtheaccordionbehindherback。Allofwhichwasverywonderfulforme，whodidnotdance，butwhosatatatableandgazedwide-eyedattheamazingnessoflife。Iwasonlyalittlelad，andtherewassomuchoflifeformetolearn。Asthetimepassed，theIrishladsbeganhelpingthemselvestothewine，andjollityandhighspiritsreigned。Inotedthatsomeofthemstaggeredandfelldowninthedances，andthatonehadgonetosleepinacorner。Also，someofthegirlswerecomplaining，andwantingtoleave，andothersofthegirlsweretitteringlycomplacent，willingforanythingtohappen。

WhenourItalianhostshadofferedmewineinageneralsortofway，Ihaddeclined。Mybeerexperiencehadbeenenoughforme，andIhadnoinclinationtotrafficfurtherinthestuff，orinanythingrelatedtoit。Unfortunately，oneyoungItalian，Peter，animpishsoul，seeingmesittingsolitary，stirredbyawhimofthemoment，half-filledatumblerwithwineandpassedittome。

Hewassittingacrossthetablefromme。Ideclined。Hisfacegrewstern，andheinsistentlyprofferedthewine。Andthenterrordescendeduponme——aterrorwhichImustexplain。

Mymotherhadtheories。First，shesteadfastlymaintainedthatbrunettesandallthetribeofdark-eyedhumansweredeceitful。

Needlesstosay，mymotherwasablonde。Next，shewasconvincedthatthedark-eyedLatinraceswereprofoundlysensitive，profoundlytreacherous，andprofoundlymurderous。Againandagain，drinkinginthestrangenessandthefearsomenessoftheworldfromherlips，IhadheardherstatethatifoneoffendedanItalian，nomatterhowslightlyandunintentionally，hewascertaintoretaliatebystabbingoneintheback。Thatwasherparticularphrase——"stabyouintheback。"

Now，althoughIhadbeeneagertoseeBlackMattkillTomMorriseythatmorning，Ididnotcaretofurnishtothedancersthespectacleofaknifestickinginmyback。Ihadnotyetlearnedtodistinguishbetweenfactsandtheories。Myfaithwasimplicitinmymother’sexpositionoftheItaliancharacter。Besides，I

hadsomeglimmeringinklingofthesacrednessofhospitality。

Herewasatreacherous，sensitive，murderousItalian，offeringmehospitality。IhadbeentaughttobelievethatifIoffendedhimhewouldstrikeatmewithaknifepreciselyasahorsekickedoutwhenonegottooclosetoitsheelsandworriedit。Then，too，thisItalian，Peter，hadthoseterribleblackeyesIhadheardmymothertalkabout。TheywereeyesdifferentfromtheeyesIknew，fromthebluesandgreysandhazelsofmyownfamily，fromthepaleandgenialbluesoftheIrish。PerhapsPeterhadhadafewdrinks。Atanyrate，hiseyeswerebrilliantlyblackandsparklingwithdevilry。Theywerethemysterious，theunknown，andwhowasI，aseven-year-old，toanalysethemandknowtheirprankishness？InthemIvisionedsuddendeath，andIdeclinedthewinehalf-heartedly。Theexpressioninhiseyeschanged。Theygrewsternandimperiousasheshovedthetumblerofwinecloser。

WhatcouldIdo？Ihavefacedrealdeathsinceinmylife，butneverhaveIknownthefearofdeathasIknewitthen。Iputtheglasstomylips，andPeter’seyesrelented。Iknewhewouldnotkillmejustthen。Thatwasarelief。Butthewinewasnot。Itwascheap，newwine，bitterandsour，madeoftheleavingsandscrapingsofthevineyardsandthevats，andittastedfarworsethanbeer。Thereisonlyonewaytotakemedicine，andthatistotakeit。AndthatisthewayItookthatwine。Ithrewmyheadbackandgulpeditdown。Ihadtogulpagainandholdthepoisondown，forpoisonitwastomychild’stissuesandmembranes。

Lookingbacknow，IcanrealisethatPeterwasastounded。Hehalf-filledasecondtumblerandshoveditacrossthetable。

Frozenwithfear，indespairatthefatewhichhadbefallenme，I

gulpedthesecondglassdownlikethefirst。ThiswastoomuchforPeter。Hemustsharetheinfantprodigyhehaddiscovered。

HecalledDominick，ayoungmoustachedItalian，toseethesight。

Thistimeitwasafulltumblerthatwasgivenme。Onewilldoanythingtolive。Igrippedmyself，masteredthequalmsthatroseinmythroat，anddownedthestuff。

Dominickhadneverseenaninfantofsuchheroiccalibre。Twiceagainherefilledthetumbler，eachtimetothebrim，andwatcheditdisappeardownmythroat。Bythistimemyexploitswereattractingattention。Middle-agedItalianlabourers，old-countrypeasantswhodidnottalkEnglish，andwhocouldnotdancewiththeIrishgirls，surroundedme。Theywereswarthyandwild-

looking；theyworebeltsandredshirts；andIknewtheycarriedknives；andtheyringedmearoundlikeapiratechorus。AndPeterandDominickmademeshowoffforthem。

HadIlackedimagination，hadIbeenstupid，hadIbeenstubbornlymulishinhavingmyownway，Ishouldneverhavegotinthispickle。Andtheladsandlassiesweredancing，andtherewasnoonetosavemefrommyfate。HowmuchIdrankIdonotknow。Mymemoryofitisofanage-longsufferingoffearinthemidstofamurderouscrew，andofaninfinitenumberofglassesofredwinepassingacrossthebareboardsofawine-drenchedtableandgoingdownmyburningthroat。Badasthewinewas，aknifeinthebackwasworse，andImustsurviveatanycost。

Lookingbackwiththedrinker’sknowledge，IknownowwhyIdidnotcollapsestupefieduponthetable。AsIhavesaid，Iwasfrozen，Iwasparalysed，withfear。TheonlymovementImadewastoconveythatnever-endingprocessionofglassestomylips。I

wasapoisedandmotionlessreceptacleforallthatquantityofwine。Itlayinertinmyfear-inertstomach。Iwastoofrightened，even，formystomachtoturn。SoallthatItaliancrewlookedonandmarvelledattheinfantphenomenonthatdownedwinewiththesang-froidofanautomaton。ItisnotinthespiritofbraggadociothatIdaretoasserttheyhadneverseenanythinglikeit。

Thetimecametogo。Thetipsyanticsoftheladshadledamajorityofthesoberer-mindedlassiestocompeladeparture。I

foundmyself，atthedoor，besidemylittlemaiden。Shehadnothadmyexperience，soshewassober。Shewasfascinatedbythetitubationsoftheladswhostrovetowalkbesidetheirgirls，andbegantomimicthem。Ithoughtthisagreatgame，andI，too，begantostaggertipsily。Butshehadnowinetostirup，whilemymovementsquicklysetthefumesrisingtomyhead。Evenatthestart，Iwasmorerealisticthanshe。InseveralminutesIwasastonishingmyself。Isawonelad，afterreelinghalfadozensteps，pauseatthesideoftheroad，gravelypeerintotheditch，andgravely，andafterapparentdeepthought，fallintoit。Tomethiswasexcruciatinglyfunny。Istaggeredtotheedgeoftheditch，fullyintendingtostopontheedge。Icametomyself，intheditch，inprocessofbeinghauledoutbyseveralanxious-facedgirls。

Ididn’tcaretoplayatbeingdrunkanymore。Therewasnomorefuninme。Myeyeswerebeginningtoswim，andwithwide-openmouthIpantedforair。Agirlledmebythehandoneitherside，butmylegswereleaden。ThealcoholIhaddrunkwasstrikingmyheartandbrainlikeaclub。HadIbeenaweaklingofachild，I

amconfidentthatitwouldhavekilledme。Asitwas，IknowI

wasnearerdeaththananyofthescaredgirlsdreamed。Icouldhearthembickeringamongthemselvesastowhosefaultitwas；

somewereweeping——forthemselves，forme，andforthedisgracefulwaytheirladshadbehaved。ButIwasnotinterested。Iwassuffocating，andIwantedair。Tomovewasagony。Itmademepantharder。Yetthosegirlspersistedinmakingmewalk，anditwasfourmileshome。Fourmiles！Iremembermyswimmingeyessawasmallbridgeacrosstheroadaninfinitedistanceaway。Infact，itwasnotahundredfeetdistant。WhenIreachedit，I

sankdownandlayonmybackpanting。Thegirlstriedtoliftme，butIwashelplessandsuffocating。TheircriesofalarmbroughtLarry，adrunkenyouthofseventeen，whoproceededtoresuscitatemebyjumpingonmychest。DimlyIrememberthis，andthesquallingofthegirlsastheystruggledwithhimanddraggedhimaway。AndthenIknewnothing，thoughIlearnedafterwardthatLarrywoundupunderthebridgeandspentthenightthere。

WhenIcameto，itwasdark。Ihadbeencarriedunconsciousforfourmilesandbeenputtobed。Iwasasickchild，and，despitetheterriblestrainonmyheartandtissues，Icontinuallyrelapsedintothemadnessofdelirium。Allthecontentsoftheterribleandhorribleinmychild’smindspilledout。Themostfrightfulvisionswererealitiestome。Isawmurderscommitted，andIwaspursuedbymurderers。Iscreamedandravedandfought。

Mysufferingswereprodigious。Emergingfromsuchdelirium，I

wouldhearmymother’svoice："Butthechild’sbrain。Hewilllosehisreason。"Andsinkingbackintodelirium，Iwouldtaketheideawithmeandbeimmuredinmadhouses，andbebeatenbykeepers，andsurroundedbyscreechinglunatics。

OnethingthathadstronglyimpressedmyyoungmindwasthetalkofmyeldersaboutthedensofiniquityinSanFrancisco’sChinatown。InmydeliriumIwandereddeepbeneaththegroundthroughathousandofthesedens，andbehindlockeddoorsofironIsufferedanddiedathousanddeaths。AndwhenIwouldcomeuponmyfather，seatedattableinthesesubterraneancrypts，gamblingwithChineseforgreatstakesofgold，allmyoutragegaveventinthevilestcursing。Iwouldriseinbed，strugglingagainstthedetaininghands，andcursemyfathertilltheraftersrang。Alltheinconceivablefilthachildrunningatlargeinaprimitivecountrysidemayhearmenutterwasmine；andthoughIhadneverdareduttersuchoaths，theynowpouredfromme，atthetopofmylungs，asIcursedmyfathersittingthereundergroundandgamblingwithlong-haired，long-nailedChinamen。

ItisawonderthatIdidnotburstmyheartorbrainthatnight。

Aseven-year-oldchild’sarteriesandnerve-centresarescarcelyfittedtoenduretheterrificparoxysmsthatconvulsedme。Noonesleptinthethin，framefarm-housethatnightwhenJohnBarleycornhadhiswillofme。AndLarry，underthebridge，hadnodeliriumlikemine。Iamconfidentthathissleepwasstupefiedanddreamless，andthatheawokenextdaymerelytoheavinessandmoroseness，andthatifhelivesto-dayhedoesnotrememberthatnight，sopassingwasitasanincident。Butmybrainwassearedforeverbythatexperience。Writingnow，thirtyyearsafterward，everyvisionisasdistinct，assharp-cut，everypainasvitalandterrible，asonthatnight。

Iwassickfordaysafterward，andIneedednoneofmymother’sinjunctionstoavoidJohnBarleycorninthefuture。Mymotherhadbeendreadfullyshocked。SheheldthatIhaddonewrong，verywrong，andthatIhadgonecontrarytoallherteaching。AndhowwasI，whowasneverallowedtotalkback，wholackedtheverywordswithwhichtoexpressmypsychology——howwasItotellmymotherthatitwasherteachingthatwasdirectlyresponsibleformydrunkenness？HaditnotbeenforhertheoriesaboutdarkeyesandItaliancharacter，Ishouldneverhavewetmylipswiththesour，bitterwine。Andnotuntilman-growndidItellherthetrueinwardnessofthatdisgracefulaffair。

Inthoseafterdaysofsickness，Iwasconfusedonsomepoints，andveryclearonothers。Ifeltguiltyofsin，yetsmartedwithasenseofinjustice。Ithadnotbeenmyfault，yetIhaddonewrong。Butveryclearwasmyresolutionnevertotouchliquoragain。NomaddogwasevermoreafraidofwaterthanwasIofalcohol。

YetthepointIammakingisthatthisexperience，terribleasitwas，couldnotintheenddetermefromformingJohnBarleycorn’scheek-by-jowlacquaintance。Allaboutme，eventhen，weretheforcesmovingmetowardhim。Inthefirstplace，barringmymother，everextremeinherviews，itseemedtomeallthegrown-

upslookedupontheaffairwithtoleranteyes。Itwasajoke，somethingfunnythathadhappened。Therewasnoshameattached。

Eventheladsandlassiesgiggledandsnickeredovertheirpartintheaffair，narratingwithgustohowLarryhadjumpedonmychestandsleptunderthebridge，howSo-and-Sohadsleptoutinthesandhillsthatnight，andwhathadhappenedtotheotherladwhofellintheditch。AsIsay，sofarasIcouldsee，therewasnoshameanywhere。Ithadbeensomethingticklishly，devilishlyfine——abrightandgorgeousepisodeinthemonotonyoflifeandlabouronthatbleak，fog-girtcoast。

TheIrishrancherstwittedmegood-naturedlyonmyexploit，andpattedmeonthebackuntilIfeltthatIhaddonesomethingheroic。PeterandDominickandtheotherItalianswereproudofmydrinkingprowess。Thefaceofmoralitywasnotsetagainstdrinking。Besides，everybodydrank。Therewasnotateetotalerinthecommunity。Eventheteacherofourlittlecountryschool，agreyingmanoffifty，gaveusvacationsontheoccasionswhenhewrestledwithJohnBarleycornandwasthrown。Thustherewasnospiritualdeterrence。Myloathingforalcoholwaspurelyphysiological。Ididn’tlikethedamnedstuff。

CHAPTERV

ThisphysicalloathingforalcoholIhavenevergotover。ButI

haveconqueredit。TothisdayIconqueriteverytimeItakeadrink。Thepalateneverceasestorebel，andthepalatecanbetrustedtoknowwhatisgoodforthebody。Butmendonotdrinkfortheeffectalcoholproducesonthebody。Whattheydrinkforisthebrain-effect；andifitmustcomethroughthebody，somuchtheworseforthebody。

Andyet，despitemyphysicalloathingforalcohol，thebrightestspotsinmychildlifewerethesaloons。Sittingontheheavypotatowagons，wrappedinfog，feetstingingfrominactivity，thehorsesploddingslowlyalongthedeeproadthroughthesandhills，onebrightvisionmadethewaynevertoolong。ThebrightvisionwasthesaloonatColma，wheremyfather，orwhoeverdrove，alwaysgotouttogetadrink。AndIgotouttowarmbythegreatstoveandgetasodacracker。Justonesodacracker，butafabulousluxury。Saloonsweregoodforsomething。Backbehindtheploddinghorses，Iwouldtakeanhourinconsumingthatonecracker。Itookthesmallestnibbles，neverlosingacrumb，andchewedthenibbletillitbecamethethinnestandmostdelectableofpastes。Inevervoluntarilyswallowedthispaste。Ijusttastedit，andwentontastingit，turningitoverwithmytongue，spreadingitontheinsideofthischeek，thenontheinsideoftheothercheek，until，attheend，iteludedmeandintinydropsandoozelets，slippedanddribbleddownmythroat。HoraceFletcherhadnothingonmewhenitcametosodacrackers。

Ilikedsaloons。EspeciallyIlikedtheSanFranciscosaloons。

Theyhadthemostdeliciousdaintiesforthetaking——strangebreadsandcrackers，cheeses，sausages，sardines——wonderfulfoodsthatIneversawonourmeagrehome-table。Andonce，Iremember，abarkeepermixedmeasweettemperancedrinkofsyrupandsoda-

water。Myfatherdidnotpayforit。Itwasthebarkeeper’streat，andhebecamemyidealofagood，kindman。Idreamedday-

dreamsofhimforyears。AlthoughIwassevenyearsoldatthetime，Icanseehimnowwithundiminishedclearness，thoughI

neverlaideyesonhimbutthatonetime。ThesaloonwassouthofMarketStreetinSanFrancisco。Itstoodonthewestsideofthestreet。Asyouentered，thebarwasontheleft。Ontheright，againstthewall，wasthefreelunchcounter。Itwasalong，narrowroom，andattherear，beyondthebeerkegsontap，weresmall，roundtablesandchairs。Thebarkeeperwasblue-eyed，andhadfair，silkyhairpeepingoutfromunderablacksilkskull-

cap。IrememberheworeabrownCardiganjacket，andIknowpreciselythespot，inthemidstofthearrayofbottles，fromwhichhetookthebottleofred-colouredsyrup。Heandmyfathertalkedlong，andIsippedmysweetdrinkandworshippedhim。AndforyearsafterwardIworshippedthememoryofhim。

Despitemytwodisastrousexperiences，herewasJohnBarleycorn，prevalentandaccessibleeverywhereinthecommunity，luringanddrawingme。Herewereconnotationsofthesaloonmakingdeepindentationsinachild’smind。Herewasachild，formingitsfirstjudgmentsoftheworld，findingthesaloonadelightfulanddesirableplace。Stores，norpublicbuildings，norallthedwellingsofmeneveropenedtheirdoorstomeandletmewarmbytheirfiresorpermittedmetoeatthefoodofthegodsfromnarrowshelvesagainstthewall。Theirdoorswereeverclosedtome；thesaloon’sdoorswereeveropen。AndalwaysandeverywhereIfoundsaloons，onhighwayandbyway，upnarrowalleysandonbusythoroughfares，bright-lightedandcheerful，warminwinter，andinsummerdarkandcool。Yes，thesaloonwasamightyfineplace，anditwasmorethanthat。

BythetimeIwastenyearsold，myfamilyhadabandonedranchingandgonetoliveinthecity。Andhere，atten，Ibeganonthestreetsasanewsboy。Oneofthereasonsforthiswasthatweneededthemoney。AnotherreasonwasthatIneededtheexercise。

Ihadfoundmywaytothefreepubliclibrary，andwasreadingmyselfintonervousprostration。OnthepoorranchesonwhichI

hadlivedtherehadbeennobooks。Inwaystrulymiraculous，I

hadbeenlentfourbooks，marvellousbooks，andthemIhaddevoured。OnewasthelifeofGarfield；thesecond，PaulduChaillu’sAfricantravels；thethird，anovelbyOuidawiththelastfortypagesmissing；andthefourth，Irving’s"Alhambra。"

Thislasthadbeenlentmebyaschool-teacher。Iwasnotaforwardchild。UnlikeOliverTwist，Iwasincapableofaskingformore。WhenIreturnedthe"Alhambra"totheteacherIhopedshewouldlendmeanotherbook。Andbecauseshedidnot——mostlikelyshedeemedmeunappreciative——Icriedallthewayhomeonthethree-miletrampfromtheschooltotheranch。Iwaitedandyearnedforhertolendmeanotherbook。ScoresoftimesInervedmyselfalmosttothepointofaskingher，butneverquitereachedthenecessarypitchofeffrontery。

AndthencamethecityofOakland，andontheshelvesofthatfreelibraryIdiscoveredallthegreatworldbeyondtheskyline。Herewerethousandsofbooksasgoodasmyfourwonder-books，andsomewereevenbetter。Librarieswerenotconcernedwithchildreninthosedays，andIhadstrangeadventures。Iremember，inthecatalogue，beingimpressedbythetitle，"TheAdventuresofPeregrinePickle。"IfilledanapplicationblankandthelibrarianhandedmethecollectedandentirelyunexpurgatedworksofSmollettinonehugevolume。Ireadeverything，butprincipallyhistoryandadventure，andalltheoldtravelsandvoyages。I

readmornings，afternoons，andnights。Ireadinbed，Ireadattable，IreadasIwalkedtoandfromschool，andIreadatrecesswhiletheotherboyswereplaying。Ibegantogetthe"jerks。"ToeverybodyIreplied："Goaway。Youmakemenervous。"

Andso，atten，Iwasoutonthestreets，anewsboy。Ihadnotimetoread。Iwasbusygettingexerciseandlearninghowtofight，busylearningforwardness，andbrassandbluff。Ihadanimaginationandacuriosityaboutallthingsthatmademeplastic。

NotleastamongthethingsIwascuriousaboutwasthesaloon。

AndIwasinandoutofmanyaone。Iremember，inthosedays，ontheeastsideofBroadway，betweenSixthandSeventh，fromcornertocorner，therewasasolidblockofsaloons。

Inthesaloonslifewasdifferent。Mentalkedwithgreatvoices，laughedgreatlaughs，andtherewasanatmosphereofgreatness。

Herewassomethingmorethancommonevery-daywherenothinghappened。Herelifewasalwaysverylive，and，sometimes，evenlurid，whenblowswerestruck，andbloodwasshed，andbigpolicemencameshoulderingin。Greatmoments，these，forme，myheadfilledwithallthewildandvaliantfightingofthegallantadventurersonseaandland。TherewerenobigmomentswhenI

trudgedalongthestreetthrowingmypapersinatdoors。Butinthesaloons，eventhesots，stupefied，sprawlingacrossthetablesorinthesawdust，wereobjectsofmysteryandwonder。

Andmore，thesaloonswereright。Thecityfatherssanctionedthemandlicensedthem。TheywerenottheterribleplacesIheardboysdeemthemwholackedmyopportunitiestoknow。Terribletheymightbe，butthenthatonlymeanttheywereterriblywonderful，anditistheterriblywonderfulthataboydesirestoknow。Inthesamewaypirates，andshipwrecks，andbattleswereterrible；

andwhathealthyboywouldn’tgivehisimmortalsoultoparticipateinsuchaffairs？

Besides，insaloonsIsawreporters，editors，lawyers，judges，whosenamesandfacesIknew。Theyputthesealofsocialapprovalonthesaloon。Theyverifiedmyownfeelingoffascinationinthesaloon。They，too，musthavefoundtherethatsomethingdifferent，thatsomethingbeyond，whichIsensedandgropedafter。Whatitwas，Ididnotknow；yetthereitmustbe，fortheremenfocusedlikebuzzingfliesaboutahoneypot。Ihadnosorrows，andtheworldwasverybright，soIcouldnotguessthatwhatthesemensoughtwasforgetfulnessofjadedtoilandstalegrief。

NotthatIdrankatthattime。FromtentofifteenIrarelytastedliquor，butIwasintimatelyincontactwithdrinkersanddrinkingplaces。TheonlyreasonIdidnotdrinkwasbecauseI

didn’tlikethestuff。Asthetimepassed，Iworkedasboy-helperonanice-wagon，setuppinsinabowlingalleywithasaloonattached，andsweptoutsaloonsatSundaypicnicgrounds。

BigjovialJosieHarperranaroadhouseatTelegraphAvenueandThirty-ninthStreet。HereforayearIdeliveredaneveningpaper，untilmyroutewaschangedtothewater-frontandtenderloinofOakland。Thefirstmonth，whenIcollectedJosieHarper’sbill，shepouredmeaglassofwine。Iwasashamedtorefuse，soIdrankit。ButafterthatIwatchedthechancewhenshewasn’taroundsoastocollectfromherbarkeeper。

ThefirstdayIworkedinthebowlingalley，thebarkeeper，accordingtocustom，calledusboysuptohaveadrinkafterwehadbeensettinguppinsforseveralhours。Theothersaskedforbeer。IsaidI’dtakegingerale。Theboyssnickered，andI

noticedthebarkeeperfavouredmewithastrange，searchingscrutiny。Nevertheless，heopenedabottleofgingerale。

Afterward，backinthealleys，inthepausesbetweengames，theboysenlightenedme。Ihadoffendedthebarkeeper。Abottleofgingeralecostthesalooneversomuchmorethanaglassofsteambeer；anditwasuptome，ifIwantedtoholdmyjob，todrinkbeer。Besides，beerwasfood。Icouldworkbetteronit。Therewasnofoodingingerale。Afterthat，whenIcouldn’tsneakoutofit，Idrankbeerandwonderedwhatmenfoundinitthatwassogood。IwasalwaysawarethatIwasmissingsomething。

WhatIreallylikedinthosedayswascandy。ForfivecentsI

couldbuyfive"cannon-balls"——biglumpsofthemostdeliciouslastingness。Icouldchewandworryasingleoneforanhour。

ThentherewasaMexicanwhosoldbigslabsofbrownchewingtaffyforfivecentseach。Itrequiredaquarterofadayproperlytoabsorboneofthem。AndmanyadayImademyentirelunchoffoneofthoseslabs。Intruth，Ifoundfoodthere，butnotinbeer。

CHAPTERVI

ButthetimewasrapidlydrawingnearwhenIwastobeginmysecondseriesofboutswithJohnBarleycorn。WhenIwasfourteen，myheadfilledwiththetalesoftheoldvoyagers，myvisionwithtropicislesandfarsea-rims，IwassailingasmallcentreboardskiffaroundSanFranciscoBayandontheOaklandEstuary。I

wantedtogotosea。Iwantedtogetawayfrommonotonyandthecommonplace。Iwasintheflowerofmyadolescence，a-thrillwithromanceandadventure，dreamingofwildlifeinthewildman-

world。LittleIguessedhowallthewarpandwoofofthatman-

worldwasentangledwithalcohol。

So，oneday，asIhoistedsailonmyskiff，ImetScotty。Hewasahuskyyoungsterofseventeen，arunawayapprentice，hetoldme，fromanEnglishshipinAustralia。HehadjustworkedhiswayonanothershiptoSanFrancisco；andnowhewantedtoseeaboutgettingaberthonawhaler。Acrosstheestuary，nearwherethewhalerslay，waslyingthesloop-yachtIdler。ThecaretakerwasaharpoonerwhointendedsailingnextvoyageonthewhaleshipBonanza。WouldItakehim，Scotty，overinmyskifftocallupontheharpooner？

WouldI！Hadn’tIheardthestoriesandrumoursabouttheIdler？——

thebigsloopthathadcomeupfromtheSandwichIslandswhereithadbeenengagedinsmugglingopium。Andtheharpoonerwhowascaretaker！HowoftenhadIseenhimandenviedhimhisfreedom。

Heneverhadtoleavethewater。HesleptaboardtheIdlereachnight，whileIhadtogohomeuponthelandtogotobed。Theharpoonerwasonlynineteenyearsold（andIhaveneverhadanythingbuthisownwordthathewasaharpooner）；buthehadbeentooshiningandgloriousapersonalityformeevertoaddressasIpaddledaroundtheyachtatawistfuldistance。WouldItakeScotty，therunawaysailor，tovisittheharpooner，ontheopium-

smugglerIdler？WOULDI！

Theharpoonercameondecktoanswerourhail，andinvitedusaboard。Iplayedthesailorandtheman，fendingofftheskiffsothatitwouldnotmartheyacht’swhitepaint，droppingtheskiffasternonalongpainter，andmakingthepainterfastwithtwononchalanthalf-hitches。

Wewentbelow。Itwasthefirstsea-interiorIhadeverseen。

Theclothingonthewallsmelledmusty。Butwhatofthat？Wasitnotthesea-gearofmen？——leatherjacketslinedwithcorduroy，bluecoatsofpilotcloth，sou’westers，sea-boots，oilskins。Andeverywherewasinevidencetheeconomyofspace——thenarrowbunks，theswingingtables，theincrediblelockers。Therewerethetell-

talecompass，thesea-lampsintheirgimbals，theblue-backedchartscarelesslyrolledandtuckedaway，thesignal-flagsinalphabeticalorder，andamariner’sdividersjammedintothewoodworktoholdacalendar。AtlastIwasliving。HereIsat，insidemyfirstship，asmuggler，acceptedasacomradebyaharpoonerandarunawayEnglishsailorwhosaidhisnamewasScotty。

Thefirstthingthattheharpooner，agednineteen，andthesailor，agedseventeen，didtoshowthattheyweremenwastobehavelikemen。Theharpoonersuggestedtheeminentdesirablenessofadrink，andScottysearchedhispocketsfordimesandnickels。

Thentheharpoonercarriedawayapinkflasktobefilledinsomeblindpig，fortherewerenolicensedsaloonsinthatlocality。

Wedrankthecheaprotgutoutoftumblers。WasIanythelessstrong，anythelessvaliant，thantheharpoonerandthesailor？

Theyweremen。Theyproveditbythewaytheydrank。Drinkwasthebadgeofmanhood。SoIdrankwiththem，drinkbydrink，rawandstraight，thoughthedamnedstuffcouldn’tcomparewithastickofchewingtaffyoradelectable"cannon-ball。"Ishudderedandswallowedmygorgewitheverydrink，thoughImanfullyhidallsuchsymptoms。

Diverstimeswefilledtheflaskthatafternoon。AllIhadwastwentycents，butIputituplikeaman，thoughwithsecretregretattheenormousstoreofcandyitcouldhavebought。Theliquormountedintheheadsofallofus，andthetalkofScottyandtheharpoonerwasuponrunningtheEastingdown，galesofftheHornandpamperosoffthePlate，lowertopsailbreezes，southerlybusters，NorthPacificgales，andofsmashedwhaleboatsintheArcticice。

"Youcan’tswiminthaticewater，"saidtheharpoonerconfidentiallytome。"Youdoubleupinaminuteandgodown。

Whenawhalesmashesyourboat，thethingtodoistogetyourbellyacrossanoar，sothatwhenthecolddoublesyouyou’llfloat。"

"Sure，"Isaid，withagratefulnodandanairofcertitudethatI，too，wouldhuntwhalesandbeinsmashedboatsintheArcticOcean。And，truly，Iregisteredhisadviceassingularlyvaluableinformation，andfileditawayinmybrain，whereitpersiststothisday。

ButIcouldn’ttalk——atfirst。Heavens！Iwasonlyfourteen，andhadneverbeenontheoceaninmylife。Icouldonlylistentothetwosea-dogs，andshowmymanhoodbydrinkingwiththem，fairlyandsquarely，drinkanddrink。

【推荐阅读】幽幽深宫，醒来一梦似千年，重生于下堂妃身躯中的她，将如何手刃仇人? 点击阅读