"Now, gentlemen," cried Quimbleton, "though we follow a lost
cause, and even though the gooseberry and the raisin and the apple
be doomed, let us see it through with gallantry! The enemy has
mobilized dreadful engines of war against us. Let us retort in
kind. He has tanks in the field--let us retort with tankards. They
tell me there is a warship in the offing, to shell us into
submission. Very well: if he has gobs, let us retort with goblets.
If he has deacons, let us parry him with decanters. Chuff has put
us here under the pretext of being drunk. Very well: then let us
BE drunk. Let us go down in our cups, not in our saucers. Where
there's a swill, there's a way! Let us be sot in our ways," he
added, sotto voce.

Terrific uproar followed this fine outburst. Quimbleton had to
calm the frenzy by gesturing for silence.

"I hear some natural queries," he said. "Some one asks 'How?' To
this I shall presently explain 'Here's how.' Bear with me a
moment.

"My friends, it would be idle for us to attempt the great task
before us relying merely on ourselves. In such great crises it is
necessary to call upon a Higher Power for strength and succor.
This is no mere brawl, no haphazard scuffle: it is the battle-
ground--if I were jocosely minded I might say it is the bottle-
ground--of a great principle. If, gentlemen, I wished to harrow
your souls, I would ask you to hark back in memory to the fine old
days when brave men and lovely women sat down at the same table
with a glass of wine, or a mug of ale, and no one thought any the
worse. I would ask you to remember the color of the wine in the