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The Ethics of Drink and Other Social Questions - Joints In Our Social Armour by James Runciman
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cries in the dark and the trees moan; the agonized man who lies waiting
the morning thinks of the times when the whistle of the wind was the
gladdest of sounds to him; his old ambitions wake from their trance and
come to gaze on him reproachfully; he sees that fortune (and mayhap
fame) have passed him by, and all through his own fault; he may whine
about imaginary wrongs during the day when he is maudlin, but the night
fairly throttles him if he attempts to turn away from the stark truth,
and he remains pinned face to face with his beautiful, dead self. Then,
with a start, he remembers that he has no friends. When he crawls out in
the morning to steady his hand he will be greeted with filthy
public-house cordiality by the animals to whose level he has dragged
himself, but of friends he has none. Now, is it not marvellous? Drink is
so jolly; prosperous persons talk with such a droll wink about vagaries
which they or their friends committed the night before; it is all so
very, very lightsome! The brewers and distillers who put the
mirth-inspiring beverages into the market receive more consideration,
and a great deal more money, than an average European prince;--and yet
the poor dry-rotted unfortunate whose decadence we are tracing is like a
leper in the scattering effects which he produces during his shaky
promenade. He is indeed alone in the world, and brandy or gin is his
only counsellor and comforter. As to character, the last rag of that
goes when the first sign of indolence is seen; the watchers have eyes
like cats, and the self-restrained men among them have usually seen so
many fellows depart to perdition that every stage in the process of
degradation is known to them. No! there is not a friend, and dry, clever
gentlemen say, "Yes. Good chap enough once on a day, but can't afford to
be seen with him now." The soaker is amazed to find that women are
afraid of him a little, and shrink from him--in fact, the only people
who are cordial with him are the landlords, among whom he is treated as
a sort of irresponsible baby. "I may as well have his money as anybody
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