Rough. There was something out of Whack with the Steering Gear, for
instead of bringing up at his Boarding House he found himself at
another Rum Parlor. The Man who owned the Place had lost the Key and
could not lock up. Here he met several Delegates to a State Convention
of a Fraternal Order having for its Purpose the uplifting of Mankind.
They wore Blue Badges and were fighting to get their Money into the
Cash Register. In a little while he and a red-headed Delegate were up
by the Cigar Counter singing, "How can I bear to leave thee?" He put
in an Application for Membership and then the next Picture that came
out of the Fog was a Chop Suey Restaurant and everybody breaking
Dishes.

[Illustration: _Brothers._]

Soon after, the Lights went out and when he came back to Earth he was
lying the wrong way of his Bed with Blue Badges all over him, trying
to swallow a Bath Towel, which he afterward discovered was his Tongue.
By getting a Leverage under his Head he managed to pry it up and then
he sat on the edge of the Bed and called himself Names. He had nothing
left over except the Cards given to him by the Brothers from up State
somewhere. He had a dim and sneaking Recollection that he had given
his address and Phone Number to the whole Tribe and begged them to
look him up.

"Not any more in Mine," said he, as he held a Towel under the Faucet.
"Not for all of Morgan's would I look at any more of that Essence of
Trouble. I wonder if I'll live through the Morning."

That Day he lived on Bromo and Ice, and the only Satisfaction this
Life offered was the Fact that he was a Reformed Man.