One of my early pupils was Max Brödel, professor of art as applied to medicine at the Johns Hopkins. He knew a great deal about bacteriology and became the best brewer within my range of acquaintance. Some of his brews, in fact, had a genuinely professional smack. He had a summer place in Canada, and one autumn, on returning in his car, he found after crossing the American border that there were three empty bottles of Labatt's ale in his baggage. There was some yeast sediment in them, and when he reached Baltimore he proceeded to cultivate this sediment at the Johns Hopkins. He soon had it free from contamination, and was presently brewing a really remarkable imitation of Labatt's ale, which has a peculiar (and very agreeable) flavor. Another time he cultivated a ferment from the wild yeast on grape-skins, and from it produced an ale that had a decidedly wine-like flavor. In 1921 Philip Goodman, who was also one of my pupils, brought home some dried yeast from the Löwenbräu brewery at Munich, and Brödel cultivated and purified it, and in 1925 Goodman brought home a test-tube of Hackerbräu yeast. Brödel labored long and hard over these bootlegged jewels, and finally produced pure strains. He gave me cultures of them and I tried them with success, but getting the cultures from him was some trouble, so I returned to the commercial yeasts, which had been perfected for brewing by 1925. In this humanitarian work Brödel had the aid of various Johns Hopkins colleagues, including Stanhope Bayne-Jones, who was associate professor of bacteriology in 1922 and 1923. The strains that he and they purified and cultivated survived at the Johns Hopkins until Prohibition finally blew up.