[v] ]

THE LOG of
THE WATER WAGON
OR
THE CRUISE OF THE
GOOD SHIP “LITHIA”

BY
BERT LESTON TAYLOR
and W. C. GIBSON

ILLUSTRATIONS by
L. M. GLACKENS

PUBLISHED BY
H. M. CALDWELL CO. BOSTON

[vi] ] Copyright, 1905
By H. M. Caldwell Co.

COLONIAL PRESS
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, U.S.A.

The Cruise of the Good Ship “Lithia”

FOREWORD[vii] ]

If you don’t like this book, write to the authors about it. Don’t bother the publishers: they are too busy selling it.

DEDICATION[ix] ]

To all surviving saloon passengers of the good ship Lithia, who have rounded the Horn and passed through perilous Beering Straits, and suffered shipwreck, shock, and sudden thirst: to those intrepid souls who have clung to the slippery hull of the Water Wagon when it seemed the gallant craft could not live another hour; who, lashed to the sprinkler, have ridden out many a choking dust-storm; who have heard the cafe Lorelei sing, and still hung on, deaf to her seductive song: and—

[x] ]To the memory of countless thousands lost at sea, swept into the seething drink without a word of warning, cut off in the blossoms of their resolutions, and sent to their slate accounts with all their imperfections on their heads—

This little volume is affectionately dedicated.

[xi] ]
EDITORS’ NOTE

The Log of the Water Wagon was compiled from memoranda found in a floating milk-bottle with a patent stopper, flung overboard just before the good ship “Lithia” foundered in a fearful simoom off White Rock Point. The notes, pencilled in a trembling hand, on the backs of blank temperance pledges, I O U’s, and wine-lists, were barely [xii] ]legible, testifying to the fearful condition of the unknown writer’s tongue, manifestly incapable of moistening the pencil.

With the notes were enclosed a Water Wagon folder, showing itinerary, rules and regulations, points of interest touched at, etc., a fragment of a clipping from the New York Sun, and sundry moral reflections upon life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

The editors have preserved, as far as possible, the spirit and literary style of the Log-keeper, whose identity is an interesting conjecture. His fate, and that of his fellow passengers, is shrouded in mystery.

TABLE OF CONTENTS[xiii] ]

FOR OTHER CONTENTS
SEE BODY OF BOOK

[xiv] ]

[xv] ]

THE SUN,

THE WATER WAGON DEPARTS.

GOOD SHIP LITHIA HEAVILY LOADED SAILS ON CRUISE.

Fresh from the drydock, glistening in new white paint, her blue streamers snapping in the breeze, loaded to the limit with enthusiastic and babbling passengers, the Water Wagon left last night on another perilous voyage. A tremendous crowd was present to see her off. The surging mass of well-wishers included relatives and friends of the passengers, a large delegation from the International Federation of Mineral Water Bottlers, and representatives from the W. C. T. U., Band of Hope, Never Again League, and other dusty associations.

The farewell presents to the passengers were unusually numerous. These included hot-water bags with “Bon Voyage” hand-painted on them, silver bonbon boxes containing soda mint and lithia tablets, individual cut-glass bromo-seltzer bottles, water lilies, watermelons, and other fruit and flowers.

Just before the hour for sailing happy little speeches were made by the Superintendent of the Water Works, the Commissioner of Irrigation, and the Hon. Bromo S. Emerson, of Ballato, whose sizzling oratory was received with terrific applause.

Promptly at midnight a bottle of sarsaparilla was broken on the Lithia’s sprinkler, the gang-hose was uncoupled and hauled aboard, and the Water Wagon glided gracefully away from her moorings.

A score or more of belated passengers came straggling down the pier and finding

GENERAL INFORMATION[16] ]

In making reservations, the passenger’s real name, not the station-house name, must be given, in full. All “John Smiths” will be regarded with suspicion, and must be satisfactorily identified.

Seats as well as berths will be assigned for the entire voyage. For a few choice seats next the water-cooler a small additional fee will be asked.

No life-preservers will be found in staterooms. Do not ask for them.

No “bundles” will be allowed in staterooms, nor allowed to lie around the decks.

Excellent concerts will be [17] ]rendered every evening in the main saloon by the Band of Hope. A select library will be found in the smoking-room. Water-marked stationery is also at the disposal of all first-class passengers.

Don’t try to get on the Wagon while it is in motion. It is the Captain’s business to stop for loads. If he does not stop when flagged, you will know he is full.

When rounding the sharp curve at the Pousse Cafe, passengers are cautioned to hold fast.

Passengers feeling their anchors dragging, and seized with a sudden desire to leap from the Wagon, should apply to purser for parachutes.

Stop-overs will be allowed at Vichy Springs, Delaware Water Gap, and Waterbury only.

[18] ]No transfers given on transfers.

Passengers losing any of their wheels will find them in the wheel-house.

No rain-checks will be given out. This is a dry cruise.

Buy a round-trip ticket and save money.

All mail received en route will be read aloud by the steward at sunset.

SPECIAL INFORMATION.—In looking toward the bow of the vessel, the left-hand side is port. The right-hand is sherry.

First Day[19] ]

[20] ]Hitch your wagon to a star. If it’s the Water Wagon, tie it to the Great Dipper.

—Emerson.

I often wonder where the old moons go

After they once get full and disappear.

Do they, I wonder, pilot to and fro

The men who quit the Wagon year by year?

—Copernicus.

[21] ]

LOG First Day

NOTE.—The writer of this record, being the only sober passenger aboard the Good Ship “Lithia,” has been requested by the Captain to keep the Log. The Captain kindly explains that a log is a thing in which you put down the daily occurrences on board ship. I have kept a dog, and a valet, and a thirst, and other things, but a log is sure a new proposition. But, dash my tarry toplights, here goes. Avast there, my hearties! Yeo-heave-ho! Yo-ho!

At midnight we left the Bar, and got under way, with a big tide and the wind souse-souse-east and piping free.

Everybody aboard, barring the writer, is thoroughly saturated. I counted fifty-seven varieties of pickle.

[22] ]Later.—It seems I was mistaken about having left the Bar. The Captain announces through the ventilator that he is stuck on the Bar. Loud cheers from the passengers, and cries of, “So say we all of us!”

Lightened ship by throwing overboard two bales of temperance pledges and ten cases of sarsaparilla. The Captain announces that we are off the Bar. Groans.

I am suspicious of the pilot. He hasn’t flashed a single pilot-biscuit since he came aboard.

[23] ]The Lithia is reeling off eight knots an hour. Wind still souse-souse-east and piping free. Weather so-so.

The passengers, misled by the name, are in the saloon, calling loudly for drinks and hammering on the tables. The Captain announces through the ventilator that he will turn the hose on them. Cheers, and cries of “Louder!”

The uproar in the saloon continues. An entertainer is giving a realistic imitation of a man mixing a cocktail. Tremendous applause, [24] ]and shouts of “Great, old man!” A young water curate has volunteered to go among the noisy pirates and try to soothe them.

Later.—The water curate has been thrown down the companion-way.

Loud splash on the starboard side. We have dropped the pilot.

The Captain has ordered the First Mate to take the wheel. The Mate is in the saloon, bound hand and foot, and the passengers are [25] ]singing “How Can I Bear to Leave Thee.” The Lithia is going around in a circle.

The Mate has been rescued, and has laid a course for Carbonic Light. I asked him if a mate’s wife is called a room-mate. He said he didn’t know, but the midshipmite.

The Captain has just taken soundings, but reports that he can’t hear a thing. So much noise in the saloon.

Tom Ginn, the noisiest of the bunch, has been put in irons for [26] ]demanding an old-fashioned cocktail and inciting the passengers to mutiny. The clanking of his chains is having a quieting effect on the other pirates.

3 A. M.—Passed the trim little craft Coryphee, homeward bound, loaded with lobsters and champagne. Wigwagged to her that her starboard light was out and that her hair was coming down. She signalled back, “On your way.”

Ran afoul of a fleet of full-rigged Johnnies, stuck on Shanley’s oyster-beds. Offered to take them aboard [27] ]the Wagon, but they vociferously refused. Said they’d just got off one.

The Captain took the Sun as soon as it came out, and reported that we were a hell of a way from the Equator.

Passed a ragtime whistling buoy.

Hennessy Martel, an amateur Ancient Mariner, got into the calcium for a minute by trying to shoot a nighthawk, claiming it was an albatross. The Captain gave him the water cure.

[28] ]Spoke a tramp tank steamer, Red Booze Line, Captain Handout. “Ahoy! What ship is that?” hailed Captain Handout. “The Water Wagon,” I replied through the Captain’s megaphone. “Keep off!” he yelled, and crowded on all sail.

Shipped a heavy swell rolling in from the Faro Banks.

Eight bells and all’s well.

Here endeth the first day of the cruise.

BAGGAGE REGULATIONS[29] ]

Each full ticket entitles passenger to one load. A load and a hang-over will be charged as excess baggage.

All baggage must be checked by our regular inspector before departure. Contraband baggage, such as bottled cocktails, case goods, whiskey capsules, brandied cherries, etc., will be confiscated.

ANIMALS, BIRDS, AND OTHER PETS will not be allowed on the main wagon, nor allowed to run alongside. All such must be put in charge of the steward, who will tag them and place them in a trailer, where they will be fed and cared for, and [30] ]permitted to drink out of the trough of the sea.

All animals will be returned to owners at end of voyage; or, if desired, the steward will send them to any designated circus or menagerie.

No passenger will be allowed more than three purple monkeys or two dozen red, white, and blue snakes. No magenta elephant weighing more than twenty tons will be received in the trailer, as the accommodations are limited. No mastodons of any colour will be accepted.

The management will not be responsible for any accident or change of colour these pets may undergo. We cannot guarantee fast colours.

[31] ]Striped mice, polka-dot lizards, Scotch-plaid guinea-pigs, and other small animals, and all perishable buggage, will be carried at owner’s risk.

THE WATER WAGON BAND[32] ]

Every evening in the main saloon, from 8 to 10, our own Band of Hope will discourse the following musical favourites:

• “Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes.”
• “Wait for the Wagon.”
• “The Old Oaken Bucket.”
• “Father, Dear Father.”
• “Down by the River.”
• “When the Swallows Homeward Fly.”

NOTE.—Any attention on the part of the audience will be appreciated by the Bandmaster.

SHIP’S ITINERARY[33] ]

The management reserves the right to
change the itinerary at any old
bell time.

NUTT[34] ]
The Square Hatter

132 1–2 WATER STREET

Big Heads
My Specialty 🙝 Any Size
Head Fitted

Ask to see my Adjustable, Telescopic Noiseless Hats. (Patent Pending.) Just the thing for the Water Wagon. No springs or metal used. Will expand or contract as conditions require. Space in sweat-band for cracked ice. Money refunded if we don’t make good.

Stretching done at your own home the morning after.

Telephone, Derby 8 3–4

“You get the Head, and we’ll put a Lid on it”

Second Day[35] ]

[36] ]Most of the gold-cures are only plated, and it soon wears off.

—Keeley.

Men’s evil manners live in rum. Their virtues we write in water.

—Shakespeare.

[37] ]

LOG Second Day

The morning opened on a full house, and everybody stayed—in bed. Barometer throbbing feverishly, indicating a long dry spell.

The breakfast-gong was sounded by the Steward, but not a soul made a move. Cries of “Lynch him!” from the staterooms.

The Captain has been looking over the Log, and says I keep it like a butcher’s book. I told him to keep it himself if he didn’t like it.

11 A. M.—The Steward got everybody on deck by turning in a still [38] ]alarm that the next round was on the house. The push dressed like a commuter making the 8.13 train. Everybody voted it a dirty trick.

11.30 A. M.—Tied up at Water Tank No. 1, and took on fifty cases of lemon soda and sarsaparilla, and a case of malted milk for Moxie Matzoon, alias Moxie Grandpa,—a stowaway, who was discovered soon after we cleared the Bar. He is suspected of being the staff correspondent of the Weekly Water Cooler. He doesn’t seem to be popular.

12.30 P. M.—The Captain took [39] ]a lunar observation, and reported that we were in latitude 58:12 W. from Greenwich, Conn. I asked him how he managed to observe the moon in the middle of the day, and he referred me to the Information Bureau. Crusty old chap.

Whale sighted. He was blowing his friends. Cheers from the waterproof deck, and cries of “I’ll take the same!”

At 3 P. M. mutiny broke out among the passengers, but it was quelled by the Captain with his trusty little marlingspike. Doctor [40] ]Zoolak, the ship’s surgeon, diagnosed the case as thirst, not mutiny.

The undertow of dissatisfaction among the passengers continues. Hennessy Martel called a mass-meeting on the port side, and the Wagon almost turned turtle. “Trim ship!” commanded the Captain from the bridge, and Eggley Monade, who is a regular wag, asked him if he thought we were a bunch of dressmakers.

Passed the Can Buoy on Wurzburger Shoals. Some of the boys started to rush it.

[41] ]Loan sharks have been following the Lithia all day. The Mate says this is a sign that there’s a dead one on board. Jim Sling says there will be one, all right, if he doesn’t fall off pretty soon. Jim is a sore pup.

Just before 6 P. M. the Lithia sprung a leak, and we lost considerable water. Something has also happened to the hydraulic engines, and the Captain has given orders to let go the dope-sheet.

A round-robin has been sent to the Captain, requesting him to touch [42] ]at the Aquarium, for a look at the tanks.

The crew held a First Aid to the Foolish drill, and were instructed what to do in case a passenger attempts to fall off the Wagon.

Guinness Stout and the Count of Maraschino had a hot argument over the meaning of “load water line,” the Count maintaining that there was no such thing. They appealed to the Captain, who told them they were both wrong, and that A wins the box of fudge.

[43] ]The water-cooler has been emptied four times since noon, and the boys are now eating the ice. The Captain has put everybody on quarter rations, and the Steward is serving cracked ice in capsules, only one to a customer.

Tom Ginn has again been put in irons for demanding an Angora pousse cafe.

No casualties to date, barring one passenger, name unknown, who was badly punctured by stepping on a starboard tack.

[44] ]Shortly before midnight a mix-up of red and green lights off the weather bow had the Captain going for a minute. It turned out to be a cut-rate drug-store.

12 P. M.—The decks were swabbed with Apollinaris; the Ingersol night-watch was wound up, the cat put out and the back door locked, and peace brooded over the waters.

Here endeth the second day of the cruise.

THE WIFE’S MORNING AFTER[45] ]

He—“The boys had a rattling time at our house last night.”

She—(surveying the mess)—“Empty beer-bottles, nearly empty whiskey-bottle, half-empty glasses, empty siphons, distorted corks, fragments of sandwiches, remnants of cheese, crumbled crackers, fugitive olive-pits, beer-stained doilies, stream from recumbent catsup-bottle meandering across Aunt Martha’s embroidered centrepiece, cigar and cigarette stubs in salad-bowl—over all a Vesuvian deposit of ashes. And breakfast only twenty minutes away!”

FIRST AID TO THE INJURED[46] ]

In case of a fall from the Water Wagon, prompt action will often save the victim.

While the life-line is being cast and the breeches-buoy rigged, lay the sufferer on his back and spray him thoroughly with a siphon of carbonic until signs of consciousness appear. In the majority of cases his first words will be: “Make mine a rye highball.” You will then repeat the siphon treatment, at the same time making a few passes over him and reciting monotonously in his ear: “Water, water [47] ]everywhere, and not a drop to drink.”

Usually this will produce a condition in which the breeches-buoy can be quickly adjusted and the sufferer hauled back on the Wagon. If it fails, work his arms up and down like pump-handles, and exclaim in threatening tones: “Your wife is coming back on the 5.03 train.” If his eyes remain glazed and his struggles continue, add harshly: “She telegraphs that Mother is coming with her.” Complete coma should result. If not, it can be induced by tactfully whispering: “The next round is on the house.” This has never failed.

The breeches-buoy may now be attached and the sufferer snaked [48] ]aboard the Wagon and lashed to the tank.

During his convalescence a friend should be constantly at his side, reading to him the history of the Johnstown flood. A single chapter has worked wonders.

THE WATER WAGON LIBRARY[49] ]

The following carefully selected list of Books may be had by applying to any of the deck-hands. They need not be returned.

• “D’ri and I” (Batcheller).
• “Many Waters” (Shackleford).
• “The Desert” (White).
• “Many Cargoes” (Jacobs).
• “The Water Babies” (Kingsley).
• “Ebb Tide” (Stevenson).
• “Frenzied Frappes” (Lawson).
• “The Two Van Revellers” (Tankington).

Stop that
Merry-Go-Round!![50] ]

Do things revolve when you retire? Does your room whirl like a fly-wheel in a power-house? Does your trunk go by like the Twentieth Century Limited? Do you feel as if you were looping the loop? If so, you can flag the merry-go-round with one of

Professor Bunn’s
Patent Plugs for Pifflicated
People

One of these, inserted anywhere in the wall, will bring things to a stand-still, or, put in place before retiring, will insure a quiet night’s rest.

DON’T SLEEP LIKE A TOP!

Third Day[51] ]

[52] ]When you move from Brooklyn, be sure to burn your bridge tickets behind you.

—McKelway.

Treat, and the world drinks with you; quit, and it leaves you alone.

—Horace.

[53] ]

LOG Third Day

The morning opened clear and extra dry. Big head winds. The Mate tried to take the Sun, but the sky was cloudy, so he took the Tribune.

Barometer extra brut. Wind S. W. and scorching.

The saloon sounds like a dog-show. Everybody has a dry, hacking cough.

The Steward, assisted by the Ship’s Valet, dusted off the tongues of the passengers and sprayed them with Blisterine. They were very [54] ]grateful, and a collection has been taken up to purchase a loving-cup for him.

Spoke the brewery barge Budweiser, outward bound, Captain Umlaut. The Budweiser fired a salute of four dozen bottles, not one of which, unfortunately, reached the Lithia’s deck. In a heroic effort to rescue a bottle, Tom Collins fell overboard. He was picked up by a fishing party, and when last seen was eating the bait.

A blood-curdling screech has come up through the ventilator, and the [55] ]Captain has gone below with a marlingspike.

Later.—The Captain has returned. It seems that the Valet scorched Hennessy Martel’s tongue trying to iron the wrinkles out of it. The rest of us have decided on dry massage for ours.

The Scotch-plaid guinea-pig threw a lighted cigarette in some straw in the trailer and started a fire. The deck-hands turned on the sprinkler and put it out. No great damage. The purple pig had his Keeley-cured hams smoked—that’s all.

[56] ]Hennessy Martel has got himself disliked by nailing up in the dining-cabin the following teasing dinner-card:

Cocktails
Grapefruit soused with maraschino
Consomme with sherry
Fried skate Soused mackerel
Croute of pineapple with Madeira sauce
Leg of lamb, mint julep sauce
Roast ham, champagne sauce
Artillery punch
Venison, port wine sauce
Plum pudding with lots of brandy sauce
Rum omelette Buns
Brandied peaches Black coffee with cognac
Individual Turkish bath

[57] ]At 3 P. M. we made Water Tank No. 2. Catcalls and groans from all on board.

Passed the Spit Buoy. Nobody could.

Turner Van Newleaf, one of the most popular of the passengers, was suddenly taken with water on the brain. Doctor Zoolak bled him, soaked him, and pulled his leg. Poor Van Newleaf was compelled to borrow enough money to finish the cruise.

Some practical joker raised the cry of “What’ll you have?” The [58] ]panic that followed made a football mix-up look like a procession of choir-boys, and a dozen or more passengers were lost from the Wagon. Among those that fell were Jim Rickey and Guinness Stout.

5 P. M.—Sighted the Players’ Club. The Captain gave the Engineer the jingle-bell, and we went by the danger-point like a squirt of seltzer.

The drouth in the saloon is intolerable. The dry batteries that run the fans have given out. Count Martini has tossed his waterproof [59] ]coat over the rail. He says there is such a thing as being too dry. The sentiment was wildly applauded.

Eggley Monade has been going around asking the conundrum, “Why is a port-hole like a chaser?” Everybody gave it up, and he borrowed the Captain’s megaphone to reply, “Because it’s something on the side.” The Mate put a crimp in him with a belaying-pin, and Doctor Zoolak thinks that will hold him for awhile.

At 5.30 P. M. we made Larchmont. The club-house piazza was [60] ]crowded with gold braid, yachting-caps, and booze. Wigwagged that we were the Good Ship Lithia, and they signalled back, “Look out for floating mines.” Most of the club members grabbed their drinks and fled to the cyclone cellars, but the daredevils of the rocking-chair fleet sat tight and jeered at us.

The Lithia’s decks have been cleared for action.

The Larchmont Commodore has ordered the club torpedo-boat Highball to charge the Lithia (to him).

[61] ]Our Captain, alive to the critical situation, has jammed the wheel hard over and given the enemy a broadside of lithia tablets. The Highball has reversed her engines and is heading for the dry-dock. Her hull looks like a half-portion of Swiss cheese.

The Larchmont Commodore wirelessed to the Millionaire Volunteer Fire Department, which made a record run. They have hooked on to the club’s fire-water plug, and are battering us with a two-inch stream of Glengarry Scotch. We [62] ]have replied with our starboard battery of bromo-seltzer and a fleet of Whiteheads loaded with strawberry pop.

The Fire Department has uncoupled, and hooked on to a tank of club cocktails. The deadly stream is burning off the Lithia’s paint.

Our passengers, led by Hennessy Martel, demand the surrender of the Water Wagon. They are lapping up the decks.

[63] ]The mutineers have been driven below, and the hatches cotton-battened down.

Our gallant Captain looped the Santiago loop and is raking the enemy fore and aft with withering broadsides of moxie. Some of the stuff got into the drinks of the rocking-chair fleet on the club-house piazza, and the loss of life was appalling.

The enemy, completely demoralized, ran up the white flag, and, scorning to take any prisoners of [64] ]war, we ’bout-shipped and laid our course for Delaware Water Gap.

Here endeth the third day of the cruise.

AN EXPERIENCE TABLE[65] ]

[66–7] ]

“AT LIBERTY”[68] ]

Miss Tottie Van Tootles is curvy and chic;

She sings in “The Prince and the Toad.”

Her wage in the city is twenty per week,

Twenty-five when she goes on the road.

Miss Tottie Van Tootles is handsomely gowned;

She has a French maid at her heels,

A cottage at Larchmont, a yacht on the Sound,

And three or four automobiles.

Miss Tottie Van Tootles has published a card [69] ]

To say she’s “At Liberty” now,

Which envious persons are pleased to regard

As the certain result of a row.

With whom? Why, I really can’t say. I don’t know

The details of Miss Tottie’s young life;

But ’tis whispered, I hear (not above, but below),

That an angel has taken a wife.