assented, and led the way to the nearest place.

What is there in the act of eating or drinking together that draws men
nearer? It surely does do this, but I don't know why. In his store we
were in the position of proprietor and drummer, at the beer table we
were two sociable men.

"I do not often drink," said he, "and there are times when I feel
provoked at being asked out. Some drummers throw out the invitation as
if it was part of their samples, others as if they saw I was cross,
and proposed to spend five cents in beer to make me good natured. I
occasionally enjoy a glass of beer, and when I don't feel like
drinking it all Chicago couldn't make me drink."

I remarked that I was pretty much in the same way.

"I've known a good many traveling men who went to the dogs from too
much treating," said he. "When I began business in '65 one of the best
salesmen out of New York sold me my first stock. He was paid $5,000 a
year, and was worth it. He went on a drunk here, but braced up in a
day or two and went off all right. The last I heard of him he was
dying in a hospital in Cincinnati of delirium tremens."

"You must have known a good many men in your time?"

"Yes, sir; and knew a good many to go up, and a good many to go down.
I was in the hardware trade then, and bought of Billy Smythe and John
Milligan. Look at those boys now! Both of them in splendid positions.
Poor Hank Woodbury, who sold me thousands of dollars from Sargents',
went insane and died. I remember a man dropping in one day who looked