This should be of great value to future historians and
researchers."

Through another swinging door they found the central shrine.

It was circular in shape, illuminated through a clear skylight.
Under the rotunda was a low, broad marble counter, surmounted by a
gleaming mirror and a noble array of bottles, flasks, decanters,
goblets and glasses of every size. The pale yellow of white wines,
the ruby of claret, the tawny brown of port, the green and violet
and rose of various liqueurs, sparkled in their appointed vessels.
In front of this altar stood a three-foot mahogany bar, with its
scrolled rim and diminutive brass rail, all complete. A red velvet
cord hung from brass posts separated it from the open floor.

A series of mural paintings, in the vivid coloring and superb
technique of Maxfield Parrish, adorned the walls of the room. They
portrayed the history of Alcohol from the dawn of time down to the
summer of 1919. A space for one more painting was left blank, and
Mr. and Mrs. Quimbleton concluded that the artist was still at
work upon the final panel.

An attendant in white was polishing glasses behind the tiny bar.
He was an elderly man with a pink clean-shaven face and the
initials P. S. were embroidered on the collar of his starched
jacket. There was an air of evident pride in his bearing as he
listened to their exclamations of admiration.

"Your first visit, sir?" he said.