Babe was older than I, and had pestered me from the time I was ten.

Now I was eighteen and a man.

I was a master puddler in the mill and a musician in the town band (I always went with men older than myself).

Two stove molders from a neighboring factory were visiting me that day, and, as it was dry and hot, I offered to treat them to a cool drink.

There were no soda fountains in those days and the only place to take a friend was to the tavern.