Good Books

Oh, yes, he
will, if you offer enough--Mulligan would sell his mother--at his own
price. You quite understand--at once, mind! All right, good-by. No, I'm
not mad--nor drunk, man; I haven't tasted a cocktail for a month. Eh--go
and get one? I will!"
So saying, Ravenslee hung up the receiver and hastened out of the
stifling heat of the suffocating booth, mopping perspiring brow.
"You look kinder warm!" ventured the chemist.
"I feel it."
"And it's going to be warmer. Try an ice-cream soda--healthy and
invigorating."
"And better than any cocktail on such a day!"
"I guess! Take one?"
"Thank you, yes."
So the bright-eyed chemist mixed the beverage and handed it over the
counter.
"Chin-chin!" he nodded.
"Twice," said Ravenslee, lifting the long glass. "To the Beautiful City
of Perhaps!" and he drank deep.
"Say," said the chemist, staring, "that sounds t' me like a touch of the
sun. Try a bottle of my summer mixture, good for sunstroke, heat-bumps,
colic, spasms, and Hell's Kitchen generally--try a bottle?"
"Thanks," said Ravenslee, "I will.


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