"I was," said the count. "I carried the beer on a little
tray and opened oysters behind a screen. It was a
wunderschoen life. Do you think, my good friend, you could
get me that job again?"

"Boobenstein," I exclaimed, "I can get you reinstated at
once. It will be some small return for your kindness to
me in Germany."

"Good," said the count. "Let us sail at once for Canada."

"One thing, however," I said. "You may not know that
since you left there are no longer beer waiters in Toronto
because there is no beer. All is forbidden."

"Let me understand myself," said the count in astonishment.
"No beer!"

"None whatever."

"Wine, then?"

"Absolutely not. All drinking, except of water, is
forbidden."

The count rose and stood erect. His figure seemed to
regain all its old-time Prussian rigidity. He extended
his hand.

"My friend," he said. "I bid you farewell."