“A thousand times,” exclaimed he, “a thousand and a thousand times of greater value, as being more innocent than all our modern taverns, were those baths of ages past, whither the people went, not shamefully to squander their fortunes and expose their lives by swilling themselves with wine, but assembling there for the decent and economical amusement of drinking warm water.  It is difficult to admire enough the patriotic forecast of those ancient politicians who established places of public resort where water was dealt out gratis to all comers, and who confined wine to the shops of the apothecaries, that its use might be prohibited save under the direction of physicians.  What a stroke of wisdom!  It is doubtless to preserve the seeds of that antique frugality, emblematic of the golden age, that persons are found to this day, like you and me, who drink nothing but water, and are persuaded they possess a prevention or a cure for every ailment, provided our warm water has never boiled; for I have observed that water when it is boiled is heavier, and sits less easily on the stomach.”

While he was holding forth thus eloquently, I was in danger more than once of splitting my sides with laughing.  But I contrived to keep my countenance; nay, more, to chime in with the doctor’s theory.  I found fault with the use of wine, and pitied mankind for having contracted an untoward relish for so pernicious a beverage.  Then, finding my thirst not sufficiently allayed, I filled a large goblet with water, and, after having swilled it like a horse—­

“Come, sir,” said I to my master, “let us drink plentifully of this beneficial liquor.  Let us make those early establishments of dilution you so much regret live again in your house.”

He clapped his hands in ecstasy at these words, and preached to me for a whole hour about suffering no liquid but water to pass my lips.  To confirm the habit, I promised to drink a large quantity every evening; and to keep my word with less violence to my private inclinations, I went to bed with a determined purpose of going to the tavern every day.

A FIGHT WITH A CANNON

BY VICTOR HUGO

La vieuville was suddenly cut short by a cry of despair, and a the same time a noise was heard wholly unlike any other sound.  The cry and sounds came from within the vessel.

The captain and lieutenant rushed toward the gun-deck but could not get down.  All the gunners were pouring up in dismay.

Something terrible had just happened.

One of the carronades of the battery, a twenty-four pounder, had broken loose.

This is the most dangerous accident that can possibly take place on shipboard.  Nothing more terrible can happen to a sloop of was in open sea and under full sail.