[John Barleycorn by Jack London]@TWC D-Link book
John Barleycorn

CHAPTER XIV
14/22

When train time came, there was a round-up of the saloons.

Already I was feeling the impact of the whisky.
Nelson and I were hustled out of a saloon, and found ourselves in the very last rank of a disorderly parade.

I struggled along heroically, my correlations breaking down, my legs tottering under me, my head swimming, my heart pounding, my lungs panting for air.
My helplessness was coming on so rapidly that my reeling brain told me I would go down and out and never reach the train if I remained at the rear of the procession.

I left the ranks and ran down a pathway beside the road under broad-spreading trees.

Nelson pursued me, laughing.


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