He had begun drinking early, and his eye had that
incipient gloss which always appears about the time when the one
pleasurable moment of drunkenness has come. There is but one pleasant
moment in a drinking bout, and men make themselves stupid by trying to
make that fleeting moment permanent. Bob cried, "Come on, sonny. Oh!
what would I give for your thirst! Mine's gone! I'm three parts copped
already. Come on. Soda, is it?"
Then, with the usual crass idiocy of our tribe, we proceeded to swallow
oblivion by the tumbler until the afternoon was nearly gone. I felt damp
and cold and sticky, so I said I should scull home and change my
clothes. Then Darbishire yelled with spluttering cordiality, "Home! Not
if I know it! My togs just fit you. Go and have a bath, and we'll shove
you in the next room to mine. I'm on the rampage, and Joe Coney's coming
to-night. You've got nothing to do. Have it out with us. Blow me! we'll
have a week--we'll have a fortnight--we'll have a month."
I wish I had never taken part in that rampage.
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