Hope
you well."
His comrades received the well-meant greeting with a resentful frown, which
ended in further weeping.
"This very painful," continued the Professor, resting his hand somewhat
heavily on the back of a chair; "very painful indeed! Fact is, you been
taking wrong things!"
His friends sorrowfully shook their heads negatively.
"Yes you have! Sure of it! You, Sir--imbibed whiskey! No harm in good
whiskey--excellent thing, good whiskey! But injuriverius--should say,
injurious--if has too much flavour of malt! Your whiskey too much flavour
of malt! You took brandy--bad brandy--too much taste of grapes! You took
rum--bad rum--too much mo--mo--molasses! Now I took all three--whiskey,
brandy, rum, but pure--no by-products. No, not at all. Result! See! Sober
as judge!"
And, succumbing to a sudden desire for slumber, the Professor, at this
point of his discourse, joined his friends under the table!
* * * * *
[Illustration: CYCLING NOTES.
_He._ "DO YOU BELONG TO THE PSYCHICAL SOCIETY?"
_She._ "NO; BUT I SOMETIMES GO OUT ON MY BROTHER'S MACHINE!"]
* * * * *
LEAVES FROM A CANDIDATE'S DIARY.
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