The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1892-04-28
sMILEsfpF pRuNt<ARDs.

turns out in one year.
What army is that which comes
marching down the street in solid
column, Ave: abreast, extending $40
miles? 1t is the army of 5000, 900 men
and women who daily and constantly
80 to saloons for Intoxicating drinks as
! beverage. Marching 20 miles day,
It will take them more than 2s days to
90 by. ssss"a
Now they are gone, and close in their
rear comes another army, marching five
abreast and go miles in length. In it
there are $500 confirmed drunkards
They are men and women who have lost
control of their appetites, who are in the
regular habit of getting drunk and
making beasts of themselves March
ing two abreast the army is $50 miles
IN length. Scan them closely. There
ire gray-haired men and fair-haired
boys. There are, alas! many women in
that army, sunk to deeper depths than
the men because sof the greater heights
from which they fell. It will take them
seven days to 20 by.
1t is sad and sickening sight; but,
do not turn away yet; for here comes
another army-100, 600 criminals. From
jails and prisons, and penitentiaries.
they come. At the head of the army
comes a long line of persons, whose
hands are besmeared with human blood.
With ropes around their necks, they are
on their way to the gallows. Others
are going to prison for life. Every
crime known to our laws has been COM
mitted by these persons, while under
the influence of drink.
But bark! Whence come those yells,
and who are those bound with strong
chains, and guarded by strong men, that
go racing by? They are raving mani
acs, made such by drink. Their eyes
are tormented with awful sights, and
their ears ring with awful sounds.
Shiny reptiles crawl over their bodies,
and fiends from hell torment them be-
fore their time. They are gone now,
and we breathe more freely.
But what gloom is this that pervades
the air, and what is that long line of
black coming slowly down the street?
1t is the line of funeral PROFESSIONS
One hundred thousand who have died
the drunkard's death are being carried
to their graves. Drunkards do not have
many friends to mourn their loss, and
we can put thirty of their funeral pro-
cessions into mile. We have thus a
procession 1888 miles in length. 1t will
take good share of the year for them
to 60 by, for funeral professions move
slowly. Yes, most of them do; but
every now and then an uncoffined
corpse, in a rough cart, is driven rapid
ly by, and we hear the brutal driver
sing:
Over the stones;
He is only pauper whom nobody owns"
Look into the coffins as they go by.
See the dead drunkards. Some died OF
delirium tremens, and the lines of ter
ror are plainly marked on their faces.
Some froze to death by the roadside,
too drunk to reach their homes. Some
stumbled from the wharf and were
drowned. Some wandered into the
woods and died, and rotted on the face
IF the earth. Some blew their own
brains out. Some were fearfully
stabbed in drunken brawls. Some were
roasted in burning buildings. Some
we're crushed to shapeless masses
under the cars. They died in various
ways, but strong drink killed them all:
and on their tombstones-if they have
Anyway be fifty inscribed: HE died
drunkard's DEATH
(N10so 1,oh;vo1 fh;c oo,,ooe c-2<Lo~ 1o-~
line of funeral professions; we know
not how many, but they are more
numerouslys attended :, by mourning
friends. They contain the remains OF
those who have met death
through the carelessness and cruel.
ty of drunken men. Some died
of broken hearts. Some were foully
murdered. Some were burnt to death
in buildings set on fire by drunken
men. Some were horribly mangled on
the railroad, because OF drunken en-
gineers or fiagmen. Some were blown
up on a steamboat, because drunken
captain ran a race with a rival boat.
But here comes another army-the
children-innocent ones, upon whom
has been visited the. iniquities of their
fathers. How many are there? Two
hundred thousand. Marching two
abreast, they extend up the street thirty
miles. Each one must bear through
life the stigma of being drunkard's
child. They are reduced to poverty,
want and beggary. They live ia ig'
norance and vice.
Some of the children are moaning
with hunger and some are shiverinq
with the cold, for they have not rags tc
keep them warm. A large number Of
them are idiots, made SO before they
were born, by brutal drunken fathers
And worse than all the rest, many. Of
them had inherited a love for liquor,
and are growing up to take the places
and do the deeds of their fathers. They
would I'LL the ranks of the awful army
of drunkards that moves in unbroken
columns down to death.
It has taken nearly a year for the
street to empty itself of this years
work. And close In the rear come the
vanguard of the next years supply.
And, if this is what liquor does in oul
land in one year what must be it's re
suits in all the world through, the long
centuries?
Thus far we have listened to the
story that the figures tell; but they can
not. tell ALL They give only. the outline
Of the terrible tragedy that is going OF
around us. They cannot tell us, how
many unkind and cruel words strons
drink has caused otherwise kind and
tender-hearteds husbands and fathers K
utter to their dear ones. They canno
tell how many heavy blows have falle,
from the husbands hand upon thos,
whom it is his duty to love and cherish
and protect. They cannot tell how
many fond expectations and brigh
hopes which, the fair youn1
bride had of the future have beer
blasted and turned to bitteres
gall. They cannot number tn