The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1888-02-10
W rit!en for the MONITOR.
HE GSEYED the MONITOR.

Yes, he needed the Monitor Not this
newspaper, reader, which you hold in your
| hand, but that inward Monitor--the still,
small voice Of the Almighty calling every
erring human soul to a course of life pure
and good and pleasing in the sight of God.
| very short story. To begin, | must 60
| back to the time hen one of the hotels OF
taverns here was kept by Frank Elkinton.
Behind one Of the drinking bars in his es-
adjustment he had employed smart ac-
tive youth somewhere in his teens. lie
was liked by his employer and his en-
ployer's customers. Whatever kind OF
drink would be called for the bottles and
glasses were in a polite manner deity set
on the bar in front OF the thirsty enstom-
| ers. Some, as now, would drink and dc
part, while others tarricd long at the wine
and became drunken. In their intoxicated
and sometimes fights would result from the
effects of excessive drinking. Barroom
life to the young barkeeper became dis
tasteful and disgusting to degree that
was becoming unbearable. He not only
saw the danger Of himself becoming a lip
| pier and proiane, but realized the fact that
white putting the bottle To his neighbor's
| lips he was helping to make them drunk
ards, criminals and paupers. He remem-
bered how more than one who had drank
| at that very bar had died sucdc's death
while raving with delirium tremens. Others
| were treading the same road to destruc
ton by way Of the same bar over which
he presided.
| Under the conviction That the business
of rnmselling is dishonorable, conduct il
| as you may, this young man one day, with
his hat in his hand, walked out of the
barroom, and approaching Mr. Eikinton
said:
Crank, YOU will have to get another
man to stand behind your bar, for / am
not going back.
whats the matter with you?N asked
The proprietor, greatly astonishcd.
''There is nothing the matter, only
have made up my mind to sell no more
liquor, and don't want you to ever ask
me to stand behind your bar again
''You won't go back?''
'No. tell you am done handing out
liquor and taking the peoples money
across that bar. have been bordering
the matter over this afternoon and feel that
it is a bad business to be engaged IN. Mea
come here to waste their time and spend
their hard-earned wages for liquor which
does them more injury than good.
The young bar tender carried ont his re-
solve and went TO work for his father.
Later on he took the Good Templars
pledge. and well remember his rising TO
his feet one meeting night and telling how he
loved the temperance cause until he broke
into tears and sat down quite overcome
with joy at his delverance from the temp
tation OF strong drink. That was over
sixteen years ago. The Good Templars
lodge has been ont of existence about
eight years, but the hero of my story still
holds sacred the pledge he took on tho
night of his initiation sixteen winters ago.
AS beverage, not even glass of sweet
cider has passed his lips, aud for all the
money between Woodstown and Jerusalem
he declares lie would not take a drink OF
liquor for the mere pleasure it would af-
ford With the savings Of years he built
himself house ON one of our new streets
where he and his wife and children are en-.
joying, unalloyed, the rich blessings of a
Christian, temperance home. b. b.
Wood stown, Jan. 31st, 1883.