"Yes," said Quimbleton. "I must confess I had no idea it would be
as fine as this. What time does Mr. Bleak get in?"

"He usually opens up with a nip of Scotch about eleven-thirty,"
said the bartender. "Just so as to get up a little circulation
before opening time. He's got a hard afternoon before him to-day,"
he added.

"How do you mean?" said Quimbleton.

"One of the excursion trains coming. The railroad runs cheap
excursions here three days a week, and the crowds is enormous.
When there's a bunch like that there's always a lot wants Mr.
Bleak to take some special drink they used to be partial to, just
to recall old times. Of course, being what you might call a
servant of the public, he doesn't like not to oblige. But I doubt
whether he's got the constitution to stand it long. The other day
the Mint Julep Veterans of Kentucky held a memorial day here, and
Mr. Bleak had to sink fifteen juleps to satisfy them. I tell him
not to push himself too far, but he's still pretty new at the job.
He likes to go over the top every day."

"Your face is very familiar," said Theodolinda. "Where have we
seen you before?"

"I wondered if you'd recognize me," said the bartender. "I've
shaved off my mustache. I'm Jerry Purplevein. When I was turned
down in that election I thought this would be the next best thing.
As a matter of fact, it's better. I don't really care for the
stuff; I just like to see it around. Miss Absinthe felt the same