Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1890-03-13
SOMETHING WAS DONE.

The Boys Temperance society-Cut
the Dragons Claws.
81 wish something could be done, "
said Willy Westcott.
$50 do II" sobbed his thin-faced,
weary mother, wiping her eyes.
The two stood at shabby old window,
side by side, watching shabby man
crawling down the street toward the
saloon kept by Simon Perry. The boys
called him ''Old Claws" In the win
dow Of his rum-shop, besides the black
bottles, there was heap of fish-hooks,
an article he sold to fishermen, and
which suggested the claws of the dragon
Drink" protruding in all directions,
and ready to fasten on any victim.
"Wish was mani I'd see, mother,
II couldn't shut up Old Claws, where
father goes" exclaimed Willy.
swish you were," said his mother.
He was silent moment.
''MotherI' he soon broke out again.
"Why can't boy do something? They
say every body has the right of petition.
Why haven't boys that right?" His blue
eyes flashed, he threw back his head,
and in a manly fashion talked away:
"Why haven't boys the right of petit
ton? Iguess we can do something il
we start out for it. Now, mother, l
mean TO lay it before our Boys Temper
ance Society this afternoon. Not fell
low but will help, know"
The Temperance society met in the
barn-chamber of its president, Manning
Randall, boy with big head and
philanthropic face.
"Gentlemen will please come to order,
and the secretary read the report of last
meeting"
Nahum Brown, boy wearing eye
glasses, read the report, which was APP
proved.
ANY gentleman have any business
TO bring before the meeting?' shouted
Manning.
The society for lack of something to
do had almost died. There was pause.
Suddenly Willy Westcott sprang upon
his feet. The drunkard's son blushed
and his tongue hitched, but he spoke
his piece: "Mr. President-couldn't we
boys-hand in petition-to the select
men-to stop-rum-selling?"
He sat down. The consciousness that
his father was victim of the saloons
brought those blushing cheeks and that
stammering tongue.
"Mr. President"
Every boy turned toward the speaker.
1t was Jimmy Harmon, short boy with
black, curly hair, and a lisping but
ready tongue. The boys used to say he
would surely go to Congress. ''Mr
Preshident, go for that. Boyth ought
to be heard. Why thouldn't boyth pc
tition? Haven't they righth? 1 thay
leth put thith thing through" When
he said through" he screamed it out
as if from the top of a ladder. Every
body will be on our thide-motht every
body. Old Clawths won't 1 thay let
nth cut hith clawth for him."
The society furiously applauded.
Nahum Brown rose. He had
learned way of speaking. ''Mr. Presi-
dent, am more than ever convinced
that my friend, Mr.. James Harmon,
will go to Congress. What has been
proposed is in my opinion very good
good-thing-I mean measure. Do
understand that my FREUD, Mr.. Har-
mon, makes a motion?'
THAT it'll what l mean, right off, and
the thooner the bette-," said Jimmy,
his face redder than ever.
81 second the motion, Mr.. President"
said the secretary.
The big-headed president now rose to
put the motion, and then declared it
carried. Besides the boy that made the
motion and the one that seconded it,
there was one other boy, Willy West
colt, to vote upon it. So nigh unto
death had this society come!-a fate sure
to overtake all do-nothing bodies.
This society, though, saved itself just
in time, and as it circulated its petition
an energy was developed that augured
most hopefully for the future. The
meetings were well attended. The mem
bership grew. Indeed, every thing
grows when any organization goes to
work. Muscles always shrink when we
do not use them. So the Boys Temper
ance Society grew as the petition grew.
Some Of the old folks wanted to sign the
petition. The girls, always ready for
good works, wished to help. Wise
heads, though, said: "Let it be boys
affair" and before the selectmen
marched as wide-awake, enthusiastic
set Of young masculines as ever was
raised between the two poles of the
earth.
''Tut-tutr' said Old Claws, when he
saw the boys filing into the selectmen's
room. Those young fee-nat-icks a
really goin' to put that thing through?
Guess I'll go over to say a word sgin
EN-"
So the dragon freshly sharpened his
claws and went over to the fight. Some
body else went from the den of the old
beast. That was John Westcott, WHY'S
father. He hardly knew why he went.
Perhaps he was curious. Perhaps he
the dragon just because he was
one of his victims.
The selectmen, three in number, oc-
,uuied their usual seats. There was
Simon Stone, man that had no con-
There was John Knapp who