The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1874-05-22

hand on her cheek, and the other sup
portin' her elbow, and wavin' back and
forth as if in great sorrer, she began, as
if talkin' to herself. claw me-" says
she, "what is the world a comm to?
A whisky den on every corner, and in
every nook and vale in our broad and
beautiful land! Our husbands, and faith
ers, and sons, and even our daughters,
are being swept down to drunkards'
graves and a drunkard's hell by hun
dreds of thousands. The wales and
cries of the naked and starvin' widows
and orphans, caused by rum, fills the
land. Vice and crime stork abroad un-
punished. The people groan under
heavy taxes, caused by whisky. ST.
500, ,OOO, 900 is spent annually to support
the saloons, while the helpless and in
nocent starve for bread and perish with
cold for the want of this money. And
because a few Christian women plead
and pray with one Of these saloons to
quit the vile business, they are SEN
fenced to felon's cell by six enlightened
Christianized men; yet the OTegOnidn,
a paper protesting to be in the interest
of reform and good morals, has not an
editorial word i'm behalf of the cause, or
in defense of these faithful Christian
women. All that it ever did say was to
throw cold water on it. The same with
the Bulletin. Oh, that our public jour
nails could find time to do something
else besides villifying each other and
showing up each others faults and ig-
norance! Oh, that they had, like the
poor women, some of the spirit of the
Redeemer, who died for the sake Of prin-
ciple. Then would our land be filed
with plenty, and happiness would abide
in every housew Here she posed, and
sot in silence, wavin' back and forth.
At last she broke forth again: ''Thank
the Lord truth squshed to the ground
will git up again" or some esich Scriptur
as that.
Says I, Granny Doolittle, if by truth
you mean wimmens rites, and freelov-
in, and the fannattickal Temprunce Gus
saders, it will do you no good to kote
Scriptur like that, for they will never
git up again"
At this juneter, she riz. thout the
world wus comm to a end. Her eye
brows drawed down until they nearly
kivered her eyes; her nose turned
mighty nj inside out, like tuch-me-not
pod after hard frost, and the korners
of her mouth drew down till you could
have tied them in double bo-not under
her chin. Oh, she looked terrible
With a stomp of her fut, says she,
'''Tinkenfugalr' At this her face col
lopsed, and she looked almost like a an
gel compared to q minnit before, and
she continued, 81 wus goin' to tell you
what thot of you, but then remem-
bered that" and here she koted Scrip
tur, something about hogs and brutes
and sieh, and axed me to leve, which
did with indignashun. Now, dear Ant
Jerucia, 1 tell you she IS freelover.
Don't she believe in wimmins rites ?
Don't she take that Mrs. Dunnyways
D1DtA. DOn I SA4G SAulllD BCGIuGo
Don't her gals all ware the american
costum? Don't she eat Bran Bred ?
Hain't she down on the doctors Don't
she uphold the fannattickal Crusaders
against the saloons? Yess !
Oh, Ant, mi hart groes sick in con-
templaten the degenerasey of the VIM
Minis rites freelovin' age and I will have
to close this long epistle in the intrusts
of humanity.
Plese excuse my bad spelin' as you
no my father wus a political saloon
keeper, aud 1 got no edication, one of
Bill GongletOn's clerks went with me
to see Granny Doolittle, and he rites
short hand and took down what she
sed, and give me a copy, and got
most of it spelled rite. he reports re-
ligus meetings and sich for the papers
you no 1 must close this long interestin'
epistalatory lettur So good bi from
your amiable and luvin' neffu
ISAAR IINKENFLUGAL.
Scogginsvill Aprile 26th 1874.