"Do you know that stuff he's giving off ?" The Captain nodded, and rose to his feet.

He always declared he could feel it farther if he drank standing.
"What's his name ?" whispered Jimmy, releasing the glass.

"Rubaiyat, Omar Khayyam," panted the Captain, and was lost.

Jimmy finished the round of his friends, and then approached the bar.
His voice was softening.

"Mister Ruben O'Khayam," he said, "it's me private opinion that ye nade lace-trimmed pantalettes and a sash to complate your costume, but barrin' clothes, I'm entangled in the thrid of your discourse.