HELEN: Is that the way they distil wine and beer? [Illustration: _See the drops fall._] MOTHER: They could hardly do it in this way, but men found that by boiling beer or any liquid having alcohol in it, and letting the steam pass through a long tube called a “worm,” they got stronger alcohol. You see the alcohol comes out in the steam, and as it passes through the long tube, or coil, it is cooled, and drops into a cask. The oftener it is distilled, the stronger it grows, that is, the more pure alcohol there is in it. ELMER: But why do you call alcohol a murderer? MOTHER: Because it kills. Strong alcohol will kill any living thing. Dr. Richardson, of England, has said: “There is no animal that may not be affected by alcohol. A pigeon will take opium enough to kill several men, and receive no harm; but alcohol will poison it. A goat can take enough tobacco to kill several men, but it can not take alcohol.” HELEN: I once read of a minister in Wales who was drinking in an ale-house, and he gave some of the drink to a tame goat. The animal drank until it became drunk and fell down. The minister, too, became so drunk that he had to be carried to his home. He was very sick the next day, but the third day he again went to the ale-house and began drinking. The goat was there, and he offered it more ale, but it would not touch it. When the minister saw that a goat was wiser than himself, he was so ashamed that he gave up drinking. [Illustration: _The goat would not touch it._] MOTHER: That was a sensible goat surely. There are many stories which might be told about animals that have drunk alcohol, but, having learned its effect, would never touch it again. It is a pity men are not as wise. AMY: I do like stories, mother. Won’t you tell us one, please? [Illustration: “_This coon is trying to get a drink of beer._”] MOTHER: Here is a picture taken from life. This coon is trying to get a drink of beer. A coon, like a man who gets an appetite for strong drink, will do almost anything to satisfy his taste. I once read of a man who had two tame coons. One, I am glad to say, was a temperance coon, and, though his owner had barrels of beer, he never tried to get a drink. The other by tasting learned to like beer, and he would do many strange tricks to get it. One of his tricks was to go to a beer barrel, and when he had partly unscrewed the tap, he would lie on his back under it and drink till he was dead drunk. ELMER: I should think that was bad enough for a coon; he did not have as much sense as the goat; but I think it is very much worse when a man fills himself with beer. PERCY: But, mother, how do we know that alcohol is a poison?