"Sure," said Toole, arranging his vest. "Grevemeyer saw me take
th' drink--an now I have no mimory of dongolas at all. If ye was
t' show me a chromo of wan I wouldn't know was it a dongola or
what. I'm ashamed of ye, Casey!"

"If ye done it, Casey, ye hadn't have ought t' have done it,"
said Dugan reprovingly. "Th' mind of him might be ruined
intirely."

"Stop, Dugan!" said Toole hastily. "I forgive him. Me mind will
likely be all right by mornin'. 'Tis purty good yit, ixcipt on
th' subjict of dongolas. I'm timporarily out of remimbrance what
dongolas is. 'Tis odd how thim knock-out drops works,
Grevemeyer."

"Ya!" said the alderman unsuspectingly, "gifing such a
forgetfulness on such easy things as dongolas."

"Sure! You tell Dugan what dongolas is, Grevemeyer," said Toole
quickly.

Grevemeyer looked at his glass thoughtfully. His mind worked
slowly always, but he saw that it would not do for him to have
knock-out drops so soon after Toole.

"Ach!" he exclaimed angrily. "You are insulting to me mit such
questions Toole. So much will I tell you--never ask Germans what
is dongolas. It is not for Germans to talk about such things.
Ask Casey."