He has known an old lady, very ill, who craved, as she had never craved anything, a single glass of champagne; but even her druggist could not get it for her, at any price, on a doctor’s prescription. And she was denied the exhilaration of this simple luxury, in order, so my friend supposes, that some worthless drunkard who might better be under the sod, should be saved. Indeed, he has known many an invalid who might have gone to his grave a bit happier for some momentary stimulant which stupid reformers saw fit to withhold. He was told by the proprietor of several supper places in one of our great cities--and he cannot doubt his word, since he has known him for a long, long time--that one of the federal Prohibition officers who live on graft receives not less than five dollars for every case of wine which passes the Customs. Very swiftly this official is growing unbelievably rich; he does not wish, naturally, to see a return to what might now be considered the old, calm days. Not long ago, this grafter decided that it was about time to make a spectacular “raid” and close up, for a while, the cabarets along the route where he acted as supreme czar. For Washington might take his long inaction as neglect of duty. Therefore he set a night when he visited various restaurants in a limousine, warning the proprietors that they must shut down. But he added, in the ear of each, “Don’t worry! this is only a bluff--a spectacular gesture. You’ll all be free to sell stuff in a little while.” He meant that phrase, “a little while,” for, of course, his graft ceased during the interval of grayness. But the federal government, getting his report, seemed pleased at his attention to his duties, and all was serene for him. Champagne was purchased soon afterwards in all these cabarets, and the jazz struck up a livelier tune, and everybody was happy. He has read with astonishment that the student-governing body in several of our colleges has found it necessary to take formal action for the suppression of intoxication among under-graduates. Was this ever done in “the good old days”? Think of it! Your boy, whom the Volstead Act was to protect from the scandal of drunkenness, must have what is comparable to the Mullan-Gage Act and the Hobert Act pressed upon him in his college, so that he may be made to see the dangers that lurk in alcohol. The great and holy Government cannot control him; a minor form of tyranny and suppression must come into existence to aid the already heavy machinery of the law to run smoothly. He has known of an exalted judge who purchased liquor from a police officer, had it delivered at his door in a patrol wagon; and that wagon was guarded by a man in uniform.