"_Then stand by your glasses steady,_ _This world is a world full of lies._ _Then here's to the dead already dead,_ _And here's to the next man who dies!"_ It was terrific. Stover, quite moved, looked about the circle, thought that Pee-wee looked the nearest to the earthworm and repeated solemnly: "To the next man who dies." At this moment the Tennessee Shad was heard derisively intoning: "_Ring around a rosie, Pocket full of posie. Oats, peas, beans and barley grows. Open the ring and take her in And kiss her when you get her in!_" They paid no heed. They felt too acutely the solemnity of life and the fleeting hour of pleasure to be deterred by even the lathery aspect of their own faces, which emerged from the suds of the beer ready for the barber. "Dish out the bunny," said Slops, putting down his mug with a reckless look. Suddenly there came an impressive knock and the voice of Mr. Bundy saying: "Open the door, Stover!" In a thrice the revelry broke up, the telltale bottle and glasses were stowed under the window-seat, the visiting sporting gentlemen precipitately groveled to places of concealment, while Stover extinguished the lights and softly stole into bed. "Open the door at once!" "Who's there?" said Dink with a start. "Open the door!" All sleepy innocence Dink opened the door, rubbing his eyes at the sudden glow. "Up after lights?" said Mr. Bundy, marching in. "I, sir?" said Dink, astounded. All at once Mr. Bundy perceived the chafing-dish and descended upon it. Stover's heart sank--if he tasted it they were lost; no power could save them. Mr. Bundy turned and surveyed the room; one by one the terrified roues were dragged forth and recognized, while the Tennessee Shad sat on the edge of his bed, reflectively sharpening his fingers on the pointed knee-caps. Then, to the horror of all, Mr. Bundy, sniffing the chafing-dish, inserted a spoon and tasted it. Immediately he set the spoon down with a crash, gave a furious glance at Stover and departed, after ordering them to their rooms. The dead game sports, white and shaky, went without stopping. "They're a fine sample of vicious bounders, they are!" said the Tennessee Shad. "Bet that Slops Barnett is weeping to his pillow now!" "I'm sorry I got you into this," said Stover gloomily. "You've brought my gray hairs in sorrow to the grave!" said the Tennessee Shad solemnly. "Don't jest," said Dink in a still voice. "It's all up with me, but I'll square you." "Don't worry," said the Tennessee Shad, smiling. "I may not be a tin sport, but I keep my thinker going all the time." "Why, what do you mean?" "I mean you'll get twigged for a midnight spread, that's all." "But the beer. Bundy tasted the beer." "Taste it yourself," said the Tennessee Shad, with a wave of his hand. Stover hurriedly dipped in a spoon, tasted it and uttered an execration. "Murder, what did you put in it?"