§ 219 A Call for the Prohibited Stuff
A hand-picked group of American bankers went to France to study financial and economic conditions with a view to pooling a large loan on some Continental industrial properties. Naturally, the prospective borrowers exerted themselves to win the favor of the distinguished visitors.
The hosts labored under the impression, seemingly, that, because America has in force a Prohibition law, their guests must be exceedingly thirsty. Accordingly, in whatsoever part of the republic the party stopped, the pick of the vintages of that particular district was served. There was wine for breakfast, wine for luncheon, wine for dinner, wine for late supper and unlimited wines between meals.
Now, one of the group from the States was a native son of the far West. Through his life he had been an imbiber but an exceedingly moderate one. Howsomever, if his gorge rose and his palate grew jaded because of the irrigating facilities constantly provided by his hospitable French friends, he gave no sign, for he was a polite man.
At length the expedition arrived in Paris, after a tour of what seemed to the Westerner all the vineyards in France. On the day of his arrival he met an old acquaintance now residing abroad.
“Say,” declared his friend, “this reunion calls for a celebration. You’ve got to dine with me to-night at the Golden Snail. I’ll order some food there that’ll make your eyes bug out.
“As a further inducement, I might add that the Golden Snail restaurant has as good a cellar as there is in this town. You can have whatever you want to drink and as much of it as you can hold. Now, there’s a Burgundy——”
“Hold on!” said the Californian. “Do you mean that? Can I really have what I crave most in this world? It may be hard to find in this town—I warn you of that.”
“You name the brand and I’ll engage to find it.”
“All right, then. You look up a good reliable local bootlegger and see if you can get me about two quarts of drinking water.”