The Brookhaven leader. [volume] (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1883-1891, 1888-09-13
WHAT ONE WOMAN DID.
a Little Temperance story. with n Pretty
Large Moral.


a Little Temperance story, with n Pretty
Large Moral.
- tell You what, Mrs, B. bringing
his fist down, after listening awhile
YOU may talk Temperance and pro
hibition till YOUR worn out and that 4
all the good it will do. whilr there
isn't a single place in the town where
a man can get warm in winter. or get
drink IN summer, or water his horses
in either season. What's more. when
We did have a town pump. YOU Temper-
ance people took il up because it
brought too much teaming down your
main street: 30 man can't water his
horses from the time he leaves home
until he gets to market, unless he
drives round by saloon and then he
plaguey mean if he don t spend a nickel
after using their pals and things"
1t was the closr OF an August day.
Mr.. Barstow had very evidently watered
his horses on the way home. He was
excited enough to be unreasonable, and
he Sc evidently had the truth on his
side now that Mrs. Barstow quietly put
The early supper ON the table and let
The subject drop for the time,
There was no lack Of theoretical
Temperance work in Maple Ridge A
town was never more flooded with
pledges and Temperance literature.
There were the usual rival Temper
ance lodges, a very useful library and
two or three bands of earnest women
who met in each others parlors and
meant well. But there was that long
stretch of dusty road into the city and
for miles out into the country, | know
OF but one hospitable farm-yard where
water stood ever ready for the stran.
ger and his beast,
Mrs. Barstow had worried over her
husband OF late. A kinder man did
not live. His farm. a market-garden.
contributed largely to the city's needs,
and he could well be proud of the
daily loads of fine fruit and Vegetables
in their season. A description of one
day does for all. A hasty breakfast
eaten at four, or even three o'clock. is
the preparation for the long drive.
The horses are fed again at the mar
ket, where the first few hours are
filled with confusion. Cabbages fly
through the air. as they are tossed
into the grocerS' wagons. Orders are
shouted across the lines of vehicles
The air is filled with clamor: the
street with a more quiet medley OF
men, women, children and animals,
through which an occasional street.
car struggles. There is wonderfully
little ill-will shown, however The
teamsters cramp Il little here, drive up
a bit there, and accommodate each
other cheerfully, But, by eleven
O'Clock, the rush is pretty we'll over.
Grocery wagons have ratified off to
make ready for the early trade. The
hueHsters have next filled their carts
with the culled fruits, the women from
the crowded tenement houses have
spent their days pittance, and the
men have time to realize how tired
they ere and how high the sun is. Then
the dry lunch they have brought lacks
flavor, there is tedious ride before
them, and they long for the pail I'M
der the pump at home, where they
may dip head and hands and get a
good cooling off. Here and there are
watering places, but they are in front
OF saloons.
There is Temperance eating house,
but 1t does not merit Il second thought,
unless it is to wonder why Temper
ance houses are so apt to be dirty and
uninviting. They must not drive
down the boulevard and out through
the park to the Talcott fountain, for
traffic teams are not allowed there, al
though they most need it. Come, Mr..
Barstow, come boys, settle down to a
ten-mile drive with no prospect of an
honest drink till you get to the end OF
1t, unless you are fortunate enough to
find a street-sprinkler filling up and
apply your lips to the overflow at the
main. At the city limits there is 4
final cluster of saloons with their at
tendant sheds and Watering
You whip by in your light rig. Your
horse does the distance in forty-fiTi
minutes and you stopped for park
water not five minutes since. If you
had two or three hours jog in ar
open wagon over the limey, simmer
ing road in the sun and dust
That is what you see every day and
could have seen for years; in fact, even
since Mr.. Barstow first stopped there
and spent the nickel he feat honorably
bound to leave. By this time he had
spent quite 100 many nickels, more