An Honest Rum-Seller's Advertisement. I will fill your asylums and poor-houses too; And if I keep trading no one should complain; Though it ruins my neighbor and grinds him to dust. It's as good as indulgences sold by the Pope. If I don't pursue it some other one will, Those croakers against me should therefore be still. 23 Of those who surround me; to prostrate their health, Bring them down to the grave and prey on their wealth. 24 Not Fit to be Kissed. I know that the Bible says, "Thou shalt not kill,” Did not Legislators step in to my aid, And by their enactments take the guilt of my trade; Come, then, friends and neighbors; come, call every day. A. MC WIGHT. NOT FIT TO BE KISSED. "WHAT ails papa's mouf?" said a sweet little girl, Her bright laugh revealing her teeth white as pearl, "I love him, and kiss him, and sit on his knee, But the kisses don't smell good when he kisses me! "But, mamma "—her eyes opened wide as she spoke— "Do you like nasty kisses of 'bacco and smoke? They might do for boys, but for ladies and girls I don't think them nice," as she tossed her bright curls. "Don't nobody's papa have moufs nice and clean? With kisses like yours, mamma-that's what I mean? I want to kiss papa, I love him so well, But kisses don't taste good that have such a smell! "It's nasty to smoke, and eat 'bacco, and spit, Yes, yes, little darling! your wisdom has seen What an Army. WHAT AN ARMY. 25 "WHO hath woe? Forward, march! Here comes the army of paupers. Look at them. Eight hundred thousand in divisions, brigades, regiments, and companies! Uniformed in rags and tatters. Look at their banners: "We waste $1,000,000,000 a year. We cost the tax-payers $100,000,000 more each year." Many were rich, most of them were comfortable. They unite in one chorus from sea to sea, "We have woe!" "Who hath sorrow?" Look! See the second army corps. Sixty thousand hearses, poor-house wagons, and biers, carrying sixty thousand drunkards to the grave each year; followed by the parents, brothers and sisters, wives and children, friends and neighbors, in funeral procession. Watch the tears, hear the groans and cries of the broken-hearted ones who lead little children by the hand. The orphan asylums are empty to-day. They answer, with one wail of agony and despair, “We have sorrow!" "Who hath contentions?" Third corps, move on! With the shuffle of the feet and the rattle of chains and fetters, three hundred thousand rioters, thieves, burglars, and murderers step forth from the dram-shops and beer-halls, where they are recruited to prey on society. Their million of victims join them in saying, "We have contentions!" "Who hath babblings?" The words mean vicious, obscene, and profane words. Attention, fourth corps! More than a quarter of a million boys and girls respond, who have been corrupted and debased, taught to use babbling words that fill the land. Like the frogs of Egypt, they come into our house, our parlors, our dining-rooms and bed-chambers, with their slime and filth, while another army of writers and publishers act the part of quarter-masters and commissaries, and keep them supplied. Probably the words came from Babel, or confusion, and we respond, "We have babbling!" "Who hath wounds without a cause?" Bear a hand to help the fifth corps! They are crippled, wounded, bleeding; sore. From the one million drunkards, or four hundred thousand criminals of all grades, select those who belong to this corps. 66 'When it is red. When 26 Examples of Moderation. it moveth itself aright." They can be spelled with one word, fermented. Without the spirit within, by which it moveth itself, no one would care for it. But this is the serpent. B. F. JACOBS. EXAMPLES OF MODERATION. Again, I saw a man get out that platform without falling. How many of you? I saw a 130 feet below me, No logic, no argu I WAS once in a town in New York, and saw a church that was building, with a very superb, symmetrical spire. From a small window, high up, a plank was pushed out about ten feet, and held by ropes fastened within. of that window and step right on How many of you could do it? man on the sidewalk who hallooed to him. He put his hands on his knees and looked down and hallooed to the man. Now that man could stand on that platform, and did, but if I had set my foot on that platform, the moment I saw the depth of I would have gone down, I could not help it. ment, no mind, no will, no genius or intellect, could have helped me. I could not help myself. Now, I say, sir, if you can stand on that plank and you tell me you set me a good example, and you induce me by your encouragement to follow your example, because it is a safe one, to stand on that plank, and I fall, what then? Your skirts are full of my blood. It must needs be that offenses come, but woe unto that man by whom they come. tell the young man that you set him a good example—how do you know? If there was a bridge built over a gulf, to fall into which was utter ruin, that holds 150 pounds, and you weighed 130, it is a safe bridge for you to walk on as much as you please. Here stands a man that weighs 200 pounds, and you tell him to follow your example. “I don't like the looks of that bridge," he says. "Don't be a fool; I have walked it for ten years, and it is safe; don't mind what others say. Now you follow my example, in your moderation-don't get into a rush-exercise self-control --step there—now another-step in a moderate way--don't get You The Charge of the Rum Brigade. 27 excited." So he goes on till he sets his foot on the center, and crash! he goes to destruction. Did you set him a good example? No, because you did not take into consideration the difference between your weights. Do you dare to tell that young man, “ You are safe, I am a good example," unless you have studied his susceptibilities, and that takes a lifetime to tell. I want to say to moderate drinkers, drink if you will, drink if you must, but don't you dare to tell these young men that you set them a good example. JOHN B. GOUGH. THE CHARGE OF THE RUM BRIGADE. ALL in league, all in league, All in league onward, Walked the Six Hundred. "Forward the Rum Brigade! Walked the Six Hundred. "Forward the Rum Brigade!" Each one had blundered. Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to drink and die. Into the Valley of Death Walked the Six Hundred. Drunkards to right of them, One million numbered. |