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8a10ou Not All Drink
erH10R as Painted
By SAM IBURNS
HE saloonkeeper of tradition, as pictured by the average tem
perance lecturer, is a coarse person who sends his victims down
death, doom and perdition by dispensing rum, not to mention
the more popular mixed drinks, which, by the way, the lec
turers never mention. That saloonkeeper of storied reputation
merely sends his prey te'the brink for the purpose of gloating
over his evil victories.
He doesn't apply strict business principles to the sinful
work, as one drink merchant recently was alleged to do.
At the bar of this man's place two customers leaned one
Yno long ago. One was a transient. The other dropped in every other
ay or so and presumed to address the proprietor by his familiar handle
"Bi." As they stood there a miserable looking fellow shuffles in. He
most collapsed against the bar and pleaded faintly for a diink. A search
his pockets disclosed no coins. The barkeeper looked at him for a
e, then turned about and poured out a finger of fiery concoction.
iiimal specimen gulped it eagerly, murmured "thanks," and
ee that poor fellow that just went out," whispered the more or
egular customer to the transient. "On his last legs, isn't he? Well,
would you believe it, that man was sent to the bad by liquor bought here.
The proprietor knew that he wasn't going to last long, so he went and
secured an insurance policy on him. What do you think of that? The
old boy can have as many drinks as he wants and the saloonkeeper pays
the premiums. When the poor fellow dies Bill is going to make a profit
on his ddath. There's a keen business sense for you!"
All this was shocking to the transient. The regular customer de
partedrbut the other remained, determined to make an investigation. He
called to the barkeeper.
"Sav," he called. "What is the-name of that old wreck who was in
here a few minutes ago?"
"His name?" said the man behind the apron, plainly puzzled. "How
should I know his name?"
"Isn't he an old customer of yours?" demanded
"I should say not," declared the barkeep. "It's
the first time I ever saw him in my life, and I've lived
in this neighborhood twenty-one years. I took pity on
the old scout and poured him out one to send him
The drink mixer's air was convincing. The vis
itor departed brooding on the beautiful sermon that
had been knocked to splinters.
As I am a native of France my declar
ing it to be God's country will be pardoned.
I am thinking of the beauty of the land
and the thrift of the people. Not long
ee I'wa~s ofeitere afndnmade s~me study
f labor conditions.
and ThfIn France and Germany the state inter
venes between the employer and his work
~ ieopi ~men and the rights and obligations of both
are clearly defined. They must also be
strictly lived up to on pain of official dis
By S. CASPARIS pleasure. If a French laborer does not
show up for work on any day he must sub
sequently present his doctor's certificate to
ion that he was physically unable. Trhe employer cannot discharge his
*en peremptorily, but must give notice a good way in advance.
These things make for permanence and stability of mdustrial opera
ion and they look good, but I am a true American citizen and would not
!dke to see such a status in this laud.
Our orkn~mn under such a regime could become as servile as
~E'roea~Sand content to be only workingmen all their lives as they are
croher su ror efficiency is due to their greater manliness and inde
- ~(1flc action and thought.
nendence wageearners are not now getting sufficient remuneration
'' ~i ti.Their wages, in view of the enormous advance in te cost
1 ig ncesitisare pitifully inadequate.
ing nciian do more than live on $1.50 a day, with a family to
Hpotwi a profound mystery. ie can never hope to save enough to
supp o, Mes holin salaried clerical positions are even worse off,
fory uhome. ep up a certain style and maintain an appearance of pros-.
The dic itv of domestic service will be
revived just so soon as the housewives learn
the much-neglected lesson that the girl who
Reviveworks in the home is not a menial and
Didniy of should not be treated as such.
Why is it that a well-to-do wife may per
DomestiC form her household '>itics wiithout lowering
her dignity, while when the same work is
Servi done by a so-called servant it is considered
moenial labor? And the servant must enter
Si'cJ by the rear door even though it be necessary
t'i th2 A A DRESCH to walk through an alley or a dark cellar.
fltUk i~I .And, if she be allowed company, she must
entertain them in the kitchen.
dia a'i~"~ hv this distinction? Arc we not all servants? "No man
~tn n~ ~ msl. We are all dependent upon some one else, from the
ni. peddler to the most prosperous business man.
s 9 no he same respect shown to the girl who does housework
.i'M~e girl T1>ehis has always ben a mystery to me and no doubt
- rs.an intelligent, capable girls who realize that the wages
~ ke mand, and that the work is not so nerve-racking as in
s orzealso that the girl s~ho works in the home, with pleasant
~tI5that womanly charm which she soon lo5s in the
, mes wold, where she must take her stand among men and
th rghs But they will not submit to such treatment as is re
the ghtssfortunate sisters who can do nothing but housework.
~, ~. our reiant with kindness and consideration if yo would
By M. J.
Copyright, 1910, by As.
"Pshaw! This is no night for elec
On the back seat of the car the
c-airman and secretary of the county
c.3mmittee were arguing as to the
best sort of speech for Coombs to
make at the Bristow schoolhouse, for
which they were headed. .On the
front seat the chauffeur steered the
car straight into the harvest moon
which was rising like a great shield
at the end of the white road. Beside
him Coombs, candidate for congress,
was sectetly indulging himself in one
of the let-downs which come even to
the best regulated candidates. He
was heartily sick of the campaign;
of the daily association with small
politicians who treated him with more
or less familiarity; of repeating the
same things over and over to audi
ences friendly, hostile and indifferent.
He was tired of the whole business;
for the moment he sincerely wished
he were back at Demottville pegging
away at his law practice, and letting
some one else work and fret for po
litical honors. And if he were. &e
would be enjoying this perfect eve
ning-an August changeling set down
in late October. Buggy riding with
a pretty girl on a moonlight night
naturally appealed to the bachelor
Coombs. And there were pretty girls
in Demottville. .
The car came upon a group wend
Ing its way to the schoolhouse. There
were five of them-two boys twelve
cr fourteen years old, and three young
women. "Oh, you candidate!" called
one of the boys, as the car was roll
"Stop," commanded Coombs. brief
ly. He had been taught never to
"overlook .any bets," in the parlance
of the politician. Every person had
possibilities, no matter how humble.
Every one wielded some influence
possibly commanded a vote, and a
vote was a vote, wherever garnered.
"All aboard!" he invited, cheerily,
as the car stopped.
They came promptly, the boys with
whoops of delight. They dragged
Go After Frank Scott's Record.
one of the young women. laughing
and protesting, between them. They
tugged at her like young bears, and
before Coombs realized 'what was
happening, the girk was deposited in
his lap, the others had bestowed
themselves on the running board, and
the car was on its way.
"I hope you'll pardon this en
thusiastic response to your invita
tion." said the girl, striving to rise.
"I had no option, you see; it was
'come. or get torn to pieces."
"And it seems to be stay for the
same reason," repliled Coombs, for
the boys stood guard, shouting:
"You've got to stay right there,
"Besides," continued the candidate.
"I welcome the opportunity to make
a convert. In return for this ride I
shall expect your vote election day."
"Indeed?" questioned his passen
ger, restraining herself unwillingly to
the situation. "And what special
qualifications can you urge for con
gress? Are you competent or exp~eri
enced? Do you wield influence in
Washington? Are you an orator?
Can you do better than the man who
has represented this district for ten
Coombs considered. Then he re
rlied, with a laugh: "To all your
Gaestions I fear I must answer no."
They had reached the schoolhouse.
Thae girl smiled at him as she stepped
O'ut of the car. "At least you have.
t.he virtue of modesty," she said..
The chairman and secretary had
r~rrived at a conclusion, and the for
rfoer now took the candidate asi~de to
say in the hoarse whisper per'iliar to
politicians: "This part of the county
is strong for you, and they like to
see the animals stirred up. Go ,after
Frank Scott's record; go aft.eri hi-.
personally. You can't make a. mis
take by putting his hide on thie frence
Their late passengers ha-:. front
seats in the schoolhouse Coornbs dis
ccvered when he made his way to
the rcstrum and waited for t'a' chair
mran to ca 1 the gathe"ring to. or'lcr.
The two boys winked and giggled
r-hen they caught his eye, arA2 then
ociated Literary J'ress
I the girl who had sat on his lep.
Coombs fancied that she blushed.
Now that he could get a good look
at her, Coombs realized that she was
very pretty. He wondered idly who
she was. Probably the daughter of
some wealthy farmer of the neighbor
hood, who had been able to give her
advantages beyond the ordinary. Her
good looks and her becoming dress
were of the city rather than the
country. Hi speculated whether her
eyes were dark gray or brown.
Coombs arose to make his speech.
The audience applauded the hand
some, boyish-looking candidate. They
listened closely while he sketched
national affairs and conditions in
their own state, then in their own
district. The moment had come for
the attack on Congressman Scott. but
Coombs did not make it. He looked
into the eyes of the girl on the front
seat. Doubtless she thought him like
all politicians--ready to climb at the
expense of another; anxious to tear
down that other's reputation that he
might build up his own. Well, he
would show her he was not an ordi
The Bristow neighborhood was
rather disappointed in the tameness
of the speech; the chairman and sec
retary w-ere grumpy,. But Coombs
didn't care; he walked out 4with the
"You will ride back with us?" he
She shook he:, heid, and held out
her hand. "No; but thank you for
what yo. did not say tonight."
"What do you mean?" asked
Coombs. He wNa oblivious of the fact
that two score voters, whose ballots
might eleft him, were also waiting to
"I mean," she said, "that I am
Frank Scott's daughter."
The campaign drew to a close.
Coombs was scheduled to spend the
last week in this county, and he man
aged to see a good deal of Beth Scott
between meetings. They avoided
politics, but found nany other sub
jects to talk about. They had read
the same books and Edmired the same
plays. There were so many things
to discuss that Coombs took to run
ning over to the home of Miss Scott's
uncle, where she was visiting, morn
ings or afternoons o: evenings
whenever the har'dworked patty
motor car could be spared, and he
had an hour to himself.
Election day came, and Coombs
was beaten. He made a good run,
better than shrewd politicians had
expected, for Frank Scott was de
Coombs, somehow, did not mind
the defeat; there wa6 no sting in it.
Demott'ile gloried in his good show
ing, and received bin almost as a
hero when he came home. He be
came, almost in a nii.ht. a prominent
citizen. In two weel-s his law busi
ness doubled. lHe had "arrived."
Miss Scott. was going home. and
Coombs had come t> say good-bye.
Likewise he planned, as he had been
nlanning for a mont.h. to say some
:hing else. But it wi's hard to get It
out; Beth was so unconscious of
what was going on beneath the sur.
face of his mind.
At last he plucked up courage te
"Ever since that night at the Bris-.
tow school I've been wondering how
Iyou'd like Demottv.ille."
"It's a pretty little city, isn't it**
she asked, with interest.
"Yes . . . I have a little home
there, surrounded by fifty-year-old
Imaples. There's a fireplace in 'the
living room, and a deep-padded leath
er chair that I like to draw up before
the fire. That chair would hold two
just as easily as-as an automobile
'3h." breathed Beth Scott, compre
"But there's no use talking about
it I suppose." went on Coombs. wist
fully. "Your father has won, and
you are going back to Washington.
the most wonderfu? city in the coun
try. That's the only reason I'm sor
rv I lost. If l'd been successful.
there'd have been something to offer
"Do you think." said the girl soft
ly. "that would raake any differ
ence. if one-cared? And I've seern
Washington. But i've never seen De
mottvile and-arnd that chair!"
When the next s'ession of ce-ngress
opened Frank Scott was hailed as a
Nap<Geon of politics by his coT
~leagues. They had tried many
schemes to retain the magic letters,
"M. C.," after their names. But to
marry one's daughter to one's most
dangerous opponent-that was more
than scheming; it was genius!
The Proper Answer.
Richard Harding Davis rece'ved
some time ago from a magazine a~
gushing request that he furnish it
gratuitously-with a New Year's
greeting and a few appropriate mot
Mr. Harding Davis replied pr onpt
'I can't 'greet' people I don't know,
but you are welcome to my ;motto,
which is. 'Nothing for nothing, and
Ivery little for sixpence.' "
A college education enables naa'y a,
young man to refer to the allowance
from his father as his income.
A Sample Quip.
"Thomas W. Lawson's* Thanksgiv
fng proclamation was a very good
piece of oratorical writing." said a
Boston banker. "Lawson is always
full of quips.
"Not long ago I attended the fu
neral of a millionaire financier-one
of those real 'high financiers' whose
low methods Lawson loves to turn the
-I arrived at the funeral a little
late. I took a seat beside Lawson
"'How far has the service gone'
"Lawson, nodding towards the cler
gyman in the pulpit, whispered back:
"'Just opened for the defense.'"
Young at the Business.
General Howard was an invited
guest at a dinner given by a boys'
patriotic club. "You eat very well,
my boy," said the general to a doughty
young trencherman. "If you love your
flag as well as your dinner you'll
make a good patriot."
"Yes, sir," said the boy: "but I've
been practicing eating twelve years,
'and I ain't owned a gun but six
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