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Bangs, John Kendrick, 1862-1922

"The Water Ghost and Others"

"
"Thank you," I said. "I do not like to take water straight, exactly. I
always dilute it, in fact, with a little of this."
Here I extracted a small flask from my pocket and handed it to him.
"Ah!" he said, smacking his lips as he took a long pull at its contents,
"that puts spirit into a man."
"Yes, it does," I replied, ruefully, as I noted that he had left me very
little but the flask; "but I don't think it was necessary for you to
deprive me of all mine."
"No; that is, you can't appreciate the necessity unless you--er--you have
suffered in your life as I am suffering. You were never sent up yourself?"
I gave him a glance which was all indignation. "I guess not," I said. "I
have led a life that is above reproach."
"Good!" he replied. "And what a satisfaction that is, eh? I don't believe
I'd be able to stand this jail life if it wasn't for my conscience, which
is as clear and clean as it would be if I'd never used it."
"Would you mind telling me what your defence was?" I asked.


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