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[Every man who imbibes]

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☞Every man who imbibes spiritous liquors, (even if he could get them pure, which no sensible person believes,) during the ensuing warm months is simply and literally walking a step toward his grave, and driving a nail into his coffin, for every drink he swallows. What is more, every man who persists in dosing himself with brandy or whisky in the dog days must be aware of the injury they inflict upon the system in such a temperature as we now experience. Yet the craving of the stomach prevails over the monitions of the intellect, and the barkeeper continues to fill his drawer with sixpences. Habit is second nature, and it generally succeeds in subuing the instincts of the original nature which one might suppose would revolt against adding superfluous caloric to one's system during the dog days.

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