"There must be some error," said Cochrane, gravely. "I have known Mr.
McDougall many years, and there never was a time when as late as twelve
o'clock at night he knew what his name was."
On a pleasant Sunday afternoon an old German and his youngest son were
seated in the village inn. The father had partaken liberally of the
home-brewed beer, and was warning his son against the evils of
intemperance. "Never drink too much, my son. A gentleman stops when he
has enough. To be drunk is a disgrace."
"Yes, Father, but how can I tell when I have enough or am drunk?"
The old man pointed with his finger. "Do you see those two men sitting
in the corner? If you see four men there, you would be drunk."
The boy looked long and earnestly. "Yes, Father, but--but--there is only
one man in that corner."--_W. Karl Hilbrich_.
William R. Hearst, who never touches liquor, had several men in
important positions on his newspapers who were not strangers to
intoxicants. Mr. Hearst has a habit of appearing at his office at
unexpected times and summoning his chiefs of departments for
instructions. One afternoon he sent for Mr. Blank.
"He hasn't come down yet, sir," reported the office boy.
"Please tell Mr. Dash I want to see him."
"He hasn't come down yet either."
"Well, find Mr. Star or Mr. Sun or Mr. Moon--anybody; I want to see one
of them at once."
"Ain't none of 'em here yet, sir. You see there was a celebration last
night and--"
Mr. Hearst sank back in his chair and remarked in his quiet way:
"For a man who don't drink I think I suffer more from the effects of it
than anybody in the world."
"What is a drunken man like, Fool?"
"Like a drowned man, a fool and a madman: one draught above heat makes
him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him."--_Shakespeare_.