They say that Tom and Dick and Harry keep The Bars at which I gloried and drank deep. Well, let them keep them. I am feeling fit, And feeding well, and catching up my sleep. VIII. I used to think that never blows so red The Cherry as when Maraschinoed; And watching Barney fish them from the Pot I have acquired, at times, a lovely Head. IX. And that reviving Herb whose tender Green Fledges the River-Lip—how oft I’ve seen The Barkeep make a Julep with its leaves, The while upon the Bar I’d lightly lean. X. But now, my Friends, I’ve had my last Carouse, And made a Second Marriage in my house; Divorced the wanton Daughter of the Vine And taken Neptune’s daughter for my Spouse. XI. Yon rising Moon that looks for us again— How oft hereafter will she wax and wane; How oft hereafter rising look for us Through the Roof Gardens—and for me in vain! XII. When in your joyous Pilgrimage you pass Along the line of Beer and Stout and Bass And Rye and Scotch and Fizz, and reach the place Where I made One—turn down an empty Glass. +Fifth Day+ You can’t tell the age of whiskey by looking at its teeth.—King William. ⁂ The truth is mighty and will prevail. When you come home with a package don’t tell your wife you’ve been shopping.—Socrates. LOG -- Fifth Day The sun rose half an hour late. Eggley Monade, the ship’s wag, suggested that Old Sol’s safety-razor must have been out of whack. The Mate belted him with a piece of tarred rope, and Doctor Zoolak with the compass needle took seven stitches. ⁂ Shortly before noon we picked up the Stock Exchange light, and the Lithia was slowed down. ⁂ Took on Tom Lawson, the pilot, who knows right off the reel, without sounding, the depth of water at every point in the dangerous channel of Wall Street. Tom brought aboard his magazine-gun, which he mounted at the bow, remarking jovially that he might take a crack at a pirate or two. ⁂ Entered the channel, with Trinity cliffs astern. Pilot Lawson is at the wheel, looking very wise. Everybody’s watching him. ⁂ An indignation meeting has been called on the two-for-a-quarter deck by excited passengers who promised their wives, sweethearts, and parents to keep out of Wall Street. They demand that the vessel be put back. The Pilot remarked, grimly, that it is harder to get out of Wall Street than into it. He advises all hands to hang on and wait for a rise. ⁂ A little before 3 P. M. the lookout shouted, “Maelstrom dead ahead!” A panic resulted, and the cry went up that Lawson was a bum pilot. Strong and willing hands tore him from the wheel, and, pursued by the infuriated passengers and crew, he ran down the deck and dove over the taffrail, yawping: “I will have something to say next month!” ⁂