Old Medford, who is as mad as a conductor when you give him five pennies, insists that the Jonah be dumped overboard. A dogged, determined committee has gone below to yank out Moxie Grandpa, who, as old Medford says, is an interloper, anyway, and has no more business on the Water Wagon than a trousers stretcher in a young ladies’ seminary. ⁂ Later.—Old Matzoon has been dragged up from the hold, kicking and clawing, and the passengers are balloting on the proper disposition of him. ⁂ While the ballot was being taken, another tidal wave of dust broke over the hapless Lithia, and the enraged passengers and crew cried in chorus, “Over with the Jonah!” The wretched Moxie fiend was thereupon flung into the trailer, despite the protests of the magenta elephant and the Scotch-plaid guinea-pig. ⁂ At 1.20 P. M. the Lithia grounded with a fearful crash, and the billows of dust that broke over her carried away the sprinkler and all the spokes in the aft wheel. A composite picture of John B. Gough and Carrie Nation fell to the cabin floor and was totally wrecked. ⁂ Buried in dust from deck to trucks, the Lithia lay on her side, pounding like a farmer at Coney Island on a “Try Your Strength” machine. The good old Wagon was doomed. Nothing could hold in such a simoom. ⁂ The Captain shouted down-wind, “Cut away the trailer!” The ship’s Carpenter, with hammer and cold-chisel, severed the tow-line, and the menagerie vanished in the dust. ⁂ At 1.35 the Lithia sprung a bunch of leaks, and every drop of water ran out of her. We are now high and horribly dry. Hennessy Martel has tied still another string around his thumb, to remind himself to make it three drinks when he gets off. His hand is beginning to look like a hammock. ⁂ At 1.50 P. M. orders were given to lighten ship. We threw over ten bales of temperance pledges, fifty cases malted milk, thirty-two cases sarsaparilla, eighteen carboys root beer, twenty-seven vats lemon soda, two hundred and thirty-five gallons mineral water, the library, the band, the cash register, seventy-five bundles of blue ribbons, the water-cooler and three tons of cracked ice, the pianola, Gottlieb Kirschwasser, and Doctor Zoolak. The Lithia righted, and it looks as if the gallant craft will ride it out. Cheers are rattling from the warped throats of passengers and crew. ⁂ 2 P. M.—We are lost! A fresh consignment of boarding-house carpets has just been thrown under the slapsticks at the Cleaning Works. This is the limit of dirty weather. ⁂ Hurrah! A St. Bernard dog with a little brown jug tied to his neck is battling his way toward the doomed Water Wagon. Good old Nero! ⁂ The St. Bernard has leaped aboard. Merciful heavens! the jug contains arnica! We have torn off Nero’s license tag and chucked him overboard. ⁂