the end is near. celebratory champagne is calling my name.
“Simmons felt as though he’d been startled out of his boots. ‘Not so loud, Heichhold,’ he hissed. ‘In any case, what are you doing at a temperance lecture?’
‘Simply passing through, thought you looked as though you could use a drink.’
An elderly lady who looked as though she well knew the taste of lemons glared. ‘I am sorry ma’am,’ Heichhold said, ‘but my friend here has stolen my girl, and I am desperate to get her back. You see, she’s a Methodist and has nothing to do with liquor, while he carries on like a sailor six nights a week.’
At this, the old lady began to smile. Heichhold was sure he had won her over. ‘I knew your Aunt Minerva, young Augustus Pierce. Take your stories to the kind of a lady who will believe them and leave good people alone.'”