The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1886-07-10
NANNiE'S APPEAL,
How Ben. Brannan Was Induced to Clos,
His Saloon.

How Ben. Brannan Was Induced to Close
His Saloon.
At last they reached the establish
ment whose proprietor had so persist
emily refused to yield the saloon was
brilliantly lighted, and Brannan him.
self stood in the door. AS the ladies
passed he spoke to them very politely,
and they commenced their meeting. 1t
continued for half an hour, and then,
in the interval between prayer and
hymn, he told them he had listened to
them very patiently, and now thought
it very civil that they should hear what
he had to say. Brannan began by
complimenting their music, telling
them how much he and his customers
had enjoyed it. He said he hoped it
had amused them to come there day
after day, and that he had no objection
to their doing so for few days, but it
was now assuming the shape of a nui-
sance, and if they did not discontinue
these visits he would appeal to the law.
make living for his family as any
man in the city, and if he chose to do
so by selling liquor, it was nobody's
business. He closed by an emphatic
declaration that he had never harmed
anybody by his saloon, and again told
the ladies if they annoyed him any
more he would have them arrested.
Just then the great clock in the
courthouse struck nine. 1t was near
the hour for closing their meeting, and
while Brannan and his party congrat-
ulated themselves upon victory, the
women prepared, oh, so sadly! to go
away Their faith had been so strong,
they had believed that God would COM
plete his wonderful work that night,
and now they must 60, leaving it still
unfinished.
Suddenly they paused, for childish
voice, which had the depth of a wo-
mans anguish, walled out: "Oh, don't
give it up, it's to save my father!"
Then they parted right an left, be-
fore the bent and twisted figure of
Mamie Burke, who passed to the front
of the crowd. AS she stood there, with
her tattered shawl thrown off, the light
from one of the colored lamps falling
full on her poor little form, on the
| floating hair and pale face, with solemn
eyes-there was something SO weird
and strange in her appearance, as
| though she were messenger from the
world of spirits.
ben. Brannan," she said. and the
weak little voice grew firm and
| stern as an accusing angels,
''my father, George Burke, is a
| kind and tender man when he lets
! whisky alone; he earns two dollars a
day, and you know that's enough to
keep us well. We live in a miserable
little garnet on Vine street; there is
hardly enough fire to keep me from
freezing sometimes, and l have had
nothing to eat to-day but piece of dry
bread; the money my father ought to
spend on his home goes for whisky,
which makes a brute of him; and yet
you stand there, Ben. Brannan, and say
| you do no harm.
alt was whisky that made my father
| give me the kick downstairs that left
me like this; it is that which sends him
home at night to beat me with that
crutch till cry out for God to let me
die 1t was your whisky that made
! him abuse my mother till she died of a
broken heart, and it was you that got
him to break the promise he had made
at her grave that he would meet her in