The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1884-07-23
ClaytOnville's Famous Fourth"

"The Inclarstion of Declependence,'
eh : Well, guess the poor fellow had it
about right, if he was drunk. Precious
little independence there is about it For
my part, I'd as lieves be under British
rule as the rule of rum, and that's what
Claytonville's under to-day. Humphl much
patriotism there is in our celebration A
good time to get drunk-that's what they
mean"
"Oh, don't, Aunt Esther, don't You
make my heart ache" and a pair of
deep, wistful blue eyes were turned i'm
ploringly towards Miss Esthers bright,
black orbs. The black eyes softened |;
they always did when they met Estelle's
supplicating gaze; but the voice was as
brisk and snappish as ever as she con-
tinued:
"Well, amt tellin' the truth, child ?
You know how it was last Fourth-you
know how it will be this. There amt a
half dozen out-and-out temperance men in
the town. No, there amt one. There's
some that talk temperance, I'll grant, but
how do they act Afraid to do one thing
towards shutting up rum-shops, for fear
they'll injure their business 1t makes
me sick The last time old Deacon Down.
ing got up in meeting and talked about
the temperance people concentrating their
forces and waiting till the time was
ripe for action l got up and left the
church. | declare had to. If the time
wasn't ripe for action after last Fourth
of July, I'd like to know when it will be-.
Poor Jamie Cushing And therell be
another this year, you see -"
ooh, auntie, auntie " and the girls
bright head was buried in the sofa pillow,
as she burst into deep, heart.rending sobs.
The old lady said nothing for time, only
stroked the fair hair softly, and wiped,
furtively, the tears from her own eyes
then, as the sobs grew less violent
"Hush, darling, hush We can't help it..
I'd stop the business quick enough if l
could but what's the use of breaking our
hearts over thing we can't help ?"
"That's just it, suntie," and the girl
sprang to her feet with a resolute bound.
"Can't we help it? Have we, the women
of Claytonville, done our part ? believe
we can stop it, through Gods help.
Auntie, will you help me ?"
eyes, child,' was the solemn answer
"if God has given you this work I'll
| hCiDJ duu OuCy otOOu III ulOuucuU WIFI
clasped hands and bowed heads, as if the
chrism of holy mission were already
being poured upon them.
Claytonville was town not wholly I'M
worthy to be called representative of a
large class, even in our enlightened East.
Nestled in among green hills, eight miles
from railway, with no manufactures
and no interest to invite new population,
it seemed, in some way, left behind by the
| great advancing wave of our nineteenth
century life. Many of its young men had
gone West; it seemed strange that all
should not go; but many had chosen to
remain, and were plodding on, as their
fathers had done before them.
One interest alone was Furnishing in
Claytonville, and that was the liquor in.
terest. With a population Of about five
hundred the town boosted seven licensed
liquor-saloons, with perhaps an equal
number unlicensed. No temperance inter.
est had never been awakened there. The
families who boasted wealth, boosted,
likewise, an aristocratic descent, which
effectually precluded them from any inter-
est in 80 plebeian thing as temperance
society. They used liquor, too, those
| oeohSh OiA loihhOioS III uOoClh biOuy VI
course, and it was well-known fact that
even the parson considered Paul's injunc.
ton to Timothy as being especially bind.
ing upon himself.
Of late years there had been a marked
deterioration among the young men OF
Claytonville their fathers had awakened
to the fact that their sons were nc
longer drinking Gin moderation; but
then boys will be boys, you know
seemed always logic sufficient to quell all
fatherly fears. The mothers-God pity
them-grew daily sadder.
The Cushings and st. Clairs-or Sin.
clairs as they were called--were Clayton.
ville's two " oldest families" Their broad
lands lay adjoining each other, and the
families had always maintained the closest
intimacy. Aunt Esther Sinclair was the
town oracle, freely privileged, throughout
the length and breadth OF Claytonville, to
say what she pleased and to scold ad
ibitum. With her in the queer old man,
sion house lived her niece, Estelle. Be.
tween Estelle and Jamie Cushing there
had been boy and girl friendship, which,
as the years went by, had hidden fair to
ripen into something more.
On the Sd of last July Estelle, a
"sweet girl graduate" had returned from
Boston, where she hads been attending
school for the past five years. Jamie had
called on her that evening, and she had
wondered little at his flushed face and
the strange voice with which he had told
her of the fun we fellers III have to-mor
rer." She had awakened next morning
to find the town pandemonium and al
ten o'clock had seen her boy lover racing
madly by, so intoxicated that he could
hardly keep his seat in the saddle. He
had yelled out some maudlin sentiment
to her passing, and, within another hour
she had seen him borne in at his mothers
door cold and stiff and dead.
Is it any wonder that, with the memory
of that day still fresh before her, Estelle
Sinclair dreaded another Fourth of July
in Claytonville Is it any wonder that she
should dedicate her fresh young life to the
work of saving other boys from Jsmie's
fate, even though woman's rights" OF
woman's public work, were things counted
in Claytonville as from the evil one?