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Pacific Press Publishing Co. · New York · December 1, 1898

Taking a Drop.

COME in, Patrick, and take a drop of something,” said one Irishman to another. “No, Mike; I’m afraid of drops ever since Tim Flaherty died.” “Well, what about Tim?” “He was one of the liveliest fellows in these parts. But he began the drop business in Barney Shannon’s saloon. It was a drop of something out of a bottle at first. But in a little while Tim took a few drops too much, and then he dropped into the gutter. He dropped his place, he dropped his coat and hat, he dropped his money; he dropped everything but his thirst for strong drink. Poor Tim! But the worst is to come. He got crazy with drink one day and killed a man. And the last time I saw him he was taking his last drop with a slipping noose around his neck. I have quit the dropping business, Mike. I have seen too many good fellows when whiskey had the drop on them. They took just a drop from the bottle, then they dropped into the gutter, and they dropped into the grave. No rum seller can get a drop in me any more, and if you don’t drop him, Mike, he will drop you.”—Selected.