leading component of this hellish mixture had been nothing less
than gin, animated by a fuse of lemon-peel. If the cylinder had
exploded, unquestionably every occupant of the City Hall would
have been intoxicated.

The conduct of the municipal officials in this crisis was
extremely courageous. No one knew whether other articles of this
kind might not be concealed about the building, but the Mayor and
councilmen refused to go home, and even assisted in the search for
possible bombs. Secret service men were called from Washington,
and went into consultation with Bishop Chuff. It was a night of
uproar. A reign of terror was freely predicted, and many prominent
citizens sat up until after midnight on the chance of discovering
similar explosives concealed about their premises.

The morning papers rallied rapidly to the cause of threatened
civilization. The Daily Circumspect declared, editorially:--

The alcoholsheviks have at last thrown down the gauntlet. The news
that the ginarchists have placed a ginfernal machine in the very
shrine of law and order is tantamount to a declaration of war upon
sobriety as a whole. A canister of forbidden design, filled with
the deadliest gingredients, was found in the corridor leading to
the bureau of marriage licenses in the City Hall. There must have
been something more than accident in its discovery just in this
spot. Men of thoughtful temper will do well to heed the symbolism
of this incident. Plainly not only the constitution of the United
States is to be made a quaffing-stock, but the very sanctity of
the marriage bond is assailed. To this form of terrorism there is
but one answer.