The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1891-02-06
people in the city but never went near


was winning the fight very we'll;
but one morning l got up with that
awful feeling of restlessness that is
called appetite for drink" 1 knew ]
was to drink that day, yet 1 made a
struggle. l remember would look at
my watch and think; Nov it is seven
o'clock, I'll not drink till half-past
seven" Then at hai;-past seven l
said Not till eight" and so on through
the weary hours. l spent the forenoon
walking up ana down from Harlem
toward the Battery and back again,
hesitating at every saloon door, yet
passing every one, living desperately
half an hour at time. Such an eX-
penditure of nervous energy could have
but one ending; 1 knew it, but would |
not yield.
1t was nearly noon. l was walking |
up Broadway and l heard band of
music coming down. AS it came near
stood on the edge of the sidewalk to
look and to listen. Back of the band
there was a long line of splendid
carriages with flags and banners, and
in the carriages were well-dressed,
well-kept, comforta ble-looking men. 1t
seemed some delegation of distinguished
visitors. What was it? The saloon
keeper of New York and Brooklyn out
for holiday!
If you had been there you would have
| seen nothing but the band and the car
riages and the men; but l could see
such sights as language fails to picture.
| You know the way of industrial pro-
cessions is to carry samples of their
handiworl in their parades, and the sa-
loon business is an industry" men say.
la this line there were no samples car
ried openly, but could see chained to
the carriage wheels countless multi
tude of men, shrieking and struggling,
reeling, staggering, stumbling down
Broadway to celebrate the triumph Of
the drink.
Back of these another multitude.
more pitiful-of women, sad-faced and
heavy-hearted, dragging on behind,
with little wailing children clinging to
to their skirts or Juggling at their bar
rem breasts, starving, though it was
holiday, and from there back the misery
of the pageant shaded on into the light
laughter of the tipping boys and the
thoughtless girls who laughed at
drunkenness and wondered at despair.
Farther than the eye could reach, the
long procession stretched away through
the great city, over the Harlem river
and was lost to sight in the plying
woods Of Westminster County.
could see at every revolution of the
wheels the idol of some woman's heart
crushed beyond recognition. Broadway
seemed paved with the bodies OF the
hundred thousand men who died drunk
: in America in the year. And the wheels
went crushing over their upturned faces
in the summer noon. / could see i'll the
clothing that these men wore silver
threads torn from the heads of suffer
, ing mothers, along with many colored
i threads drawn from the treSses of dis
: spirited and broken-hearted wives.
: could see my own wife among the FOL
: lowers in the line. | could see my OWE
, children trampled beneath the wheels
e / thought things unutterable. Wher
n the music came was about giving W
t the struggle-when l turned from ths
e spectacle felt had grown.
i NY body was erect, my lips com
t pressed, my heart firm, and knew
n would not drink that day; and then
e there alone, though jostled by thou
8 sand men, made a new resolve. NJ.
+ own children might live to be spectacle
r in such procession to the eyes of othel
= men. What should do? Wait till TIN
u juggernaut had passed over them, thel
L gather up their mangled forms an
r carry them to their mother and say
l. Here are the boys?"
e The thought drove me mad, and
ID said: Newer another instant of wait
e ing, but here and now l join the mer
s. be they called fanatics or philosophers
h who have the bravery to cry aloud an
n spare not, and to lay their hands upo
y the horses bits and stop the procession
sc though they be sneered at and thong
re they die for it."
is That's the way became Prohib
tionist.-J ohm G. Wooley, i'll Exchange