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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis: the thought that the potion might be merely fruit-juice with a little neutral
spirits. He looked timorous as Babbitt, a moist and ecstatic almoner, held
out a glass, but as he tasted it he piped, "Oh, man, let me dream on! It ain't
true, but don't waken me! Jus' lemme slumber!"
Two hours before, Frink had completed a newspaper lyric beginning:
"I sat alone and groused and thunk, and scratched my head and sighed and wunk,
and groaned, "There still are boobs, alack, who'd like the old-time gin-mill
back; that den that makes a sage a loon, the vile and smelly old saloon!" I'll
never miss their poison booze, whilst I the bubbling spring can use, that
leaves my head at merry morn as clear as any babe new-born!"
Babbitt drank with the others; his moment's depression was gone; he perceived
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