“The rich man can lay in a stock of wine, or go to a hotel or club, and get what he wants at any time and all times.  It is not fair, because a man’s pockets are filled with nickels instead of eagles, that he shall not have the same right.  For that reason, I have always spoken for the saloon, and even for Sunday openings.  You know what I think myself of that day.  You know what I think of wine.  But if I claim the right to spend Sunday in my way and not to drink, I must concede an equal right to others to do as they please.  If a man wants to drink at any time, what right have I to say he shall not?”

“But the poor man goes and makes a beast of himself,” said Watts.

“There is as much champagne drunkenness as whisky drunkenness, in proportion to the number of drinkers of each.  But a man who drinks champagne, is sent home in a cab, and is put to bed, while the man who can’t afford that kind of drink, and is made mad by poisoned and doctored whisky, doctored and poisoned because of our heavy tax on it, must take his chance of arrest.  That is the shameful thing about all our so-called temperance legislation.  It’s based on an unfair interference with personal liberty, and always discriminates in favor of the man with money.  If the rich man has his club, let the poor man have his saloon.”

“How much better, though,” said Mrs. D’Alloi, “to stop the sale of wine everywhere.”

“That is neither possible nor right.  You can’t strengthen humanity by tying its hands.  It must be left free to become strong.  I have thought much about the problem, and I see only one fair and practical means of bettering our present condition.  But boss as the papers say I am, I am not strong enough to force it.”

“What is that, Peter?” asked Dorothy.

“So long as a man drinks in such a way as not to interfere with another person’s liberty we have no right to check him.  But the moment he does, the public has a right to protect itself and his family, by restraining him, as it does thieves, or murderers, or wife-beaters.  My idea is, that a license, something perhaps like our dog-license, shall be given to every one who applies for it.  That before a man can have a drink, this license must be shown.  Then if a man is before the police court a second time, for drunkenness, or if his family petition for it, his license shall be cancelled, and a heavy fine incurred by any one who gives or sells that man a drink thereafter.”

“Oh,” laughed Watts, “you are heavenly!  Just imagine a host saying to his dinner-party, ’Friends, before this wine is passed, will you please show me your drink licenses.’”

“You may laugh, Watts,” said Peter, “but such a request would have saved many a young fellow from ruin, and society from an occasional terrible occurrence which even my little social experience has shown me.  And it would soon be so much a matter of course, that it would be no more than showing your ticket, to prove yourself entitled to a ride.  It solves the problem of drunkenness.  Ant that is all we can hope to do, till humanity is—­” Then Peter, who had been looking at Leonore, smiled.