CHARLOTTE. No. Why didn’t you bring your own bowl? JERRY [_uncertainly_]. There’s a nice big bowl in the kitchen. CHARLOTTE. All right. Go on and spoil all the kitchen things. JERRY. I’ll wash it afterward. CHARLOTTE. Wash it? [_She laughs contemptuously, implying that washing will do it no good then. Jerry, nevertheless, goes for the bowl. He feels pretty guilty by this time, but he’s going through with it now, even though he may never hear the last of it._] SNOOKS [_hollering after him_]. Get a corkscrew, too. [_He holds up the tin can to Charlotte._] Grain alcohol. [_Charlotte’s lips curl in answer. He holds up a small bottle._] Spirits of Jupiter. One drop of this will smell up a whole house for a week. [_He holds up a second bottle._] Oila Aniseed. Give it a flavor. Take the arsenic out. [_He holds up a third bottle._] Oila Coreander. CHARLOTTE [_sardonically_]. Wouldn’t you like me to look in the medicine-chest and see if there’s something there you could use? Maybe you need some iodine. Or some of Dada’s ankle-strengthener. _Jerry comes in, laden._ JERRY. Here’s the bowl and the corkscrew. CHARLOTTE. You forgot the salt and pepper. _Amid great pounding the bootlegger breaks the corkscrew on the tin can. His exertions send him into a fit of coughing._ You’ll have to stop coughing. You’ll wake the people next door. SNOOKS. You got a hairpin, lady? CHARLOTTE. No. SNOOKS. Or a scissors? CHARLOTTE. No. SNOOKS. Say, what kind of a house is this? [_He finally manages to open the can._] SNOOKS. [_With some pride._] Grain alcohol. Costs me $6.00 a gallon. [_To Charlotte._] Smell it. _She retreats from it hastily._ CHARLOTTE. I can smell _some_thing horrible. SNOOKS. That’s the spirits of Jupiter. I haven’t opened it yet. It rots a cork in ten days. [_He fills the bowl with water from one jar._] JERRY [_anxiously_]. Hadn’t you better measure it? SNOOKS. I got my eye trained. CHARLOTTE. What’s that--arsenic? SNOOKS. Distilled water, lady. If you use regular water it gets cloudy. You want it clear. [_He pours in alcohol from the can._] Got a spoon?... Well, never mind. [_He rolls up his sleeve and undoubtedly intends to plunge his whole arm into the mixture._] JERRY [_hastily_]. Here! Wait a minute. No use--no use getting your hand wet. I’ll get you a spoon. [_He goes after it._] CHARLOTTE [_sarcastically_]. Get one of the best silver ones. SNOOKS. Naw. Any kind’ll do. _Jerry returns with one of the best silver spoons, which he hands to Mr. Snooks._ CHARLOTTE. I might have known you would--you fool! _Mr. Snooks stirs the mixture--the spoon turns rust-colored--Charlotte gives a little cry._