The Press., 1894-03-22
w. C. T. U. DEPARTMENT.
"Our S'loon."
MAUD RITTENHoUsE.

talk he never had heard before, although he had gone to Miss Metcalfe's Sunday school ever so many times.
 He heard some of the children say it was temperance Sunday, as they went in, but he had no sort of notion what that was, and he didn't think he'd ever spent a temperance Sunday before. Perhaps it came only once in great while, he thought, like leap year, and perhaps he had been too little fellow to know it when he passed the last one.
 Patsy was such a sturdy, cleared-eyed youngster that you never would have guessed he had lived all his life over a wicked old saloon, and much of the time within it, right amongst the casks and bottles. He thought saloons were very nice, indeed-there was so much compa- ny, and the company so often patted his curly head and gave him nickels. There was a saloon further down the street, to be sure, that didn't seem so nice. It had 8 very tumble-down look quite as tumble-down as the red-faced dirty men he had seen coming out of it. Our s'loon," he would say, proudly, lis abeautiful one, with the prettiest pictures and mirrors, and shiny silver and glass, and lovely rainbow lights.''
 But on this temperance Sunday, before Miss Metcalfe had finished that lesson about grapes and wine, Patsy began to find some very queer, brand-new notions creeping in under his curls.
 | He listened harder than he had ever listened to anything in his life before, and after awhile he couldn't help calling right out in hotindignation to pretty Miss Met calfe, 'Not oW of lem, Miss Metcalfe | No, sir Not all of lem! My papa does aud he's the bestest man ever lived! An6 lots of fine gentlemen, they do; too, an they hold up their glasses an clink 'en together, and are kind to each other, an -an' laugh an grow fat" he added sud denly at the end, all at once feeling the fifty round eyes of other girls and boys turned upon him.
 | Miss Metcalfe looked over at him anC smiled the friendliest little smile in tht world as she replied, "You dear littlt boy, you believe all that because you only see the beginning of the trouble. Some garden, and at the beginning it is so pret ty and dainty and bright that unless yol | know better you can't tell it from tht sweetest baby flower in the garden. Blu after awhile it gets big and strong ant ugly with poisonous leaves and sharI l thorns, and it will be hard work to get i out of the flowe1-bed before it kills thu I tes1def blossoms That s good deal th' way with wine. It deceives and mock us; makes us merry for awhile, but il the end brings sorrow and wretchednes to body and soul. "God made grapes, not wine; we ma. eat the luscious grapes, each little skin bottle full of it's cool, sweet juice, ant never, never go reeling drunk and dizzy But when men spoil the precious juic and let it decay until it becomes bad an' full of poison, then it is wine, the mock CT, which every sensible boy will le alone.''
 It was long lesson, for Miss Metcalf made pictures on the board about it, ant talked hard and fast and when Pats, went home he was so swelling with ney knowledge that his little woolly coa would hardly hold him.
 Breathless and rosy-cheeked, he burs into the saloon, where Dan the big bar tender, stood dealing out drinks. Over a little table, playing cards with hi friends, sat papa Burkins. Patsy walke straight to the table. "Stop a minute Listen!" he cried "We've got to ge out O this business, short off No us a-talkin'.'r
 "What business, my man?" asked pa pa Burkins.
 "Our sloon We've got to stop hel papa. I've just found out about it. We'r the beginning and Curly Pete's the end ing. We start 'em, an Curly Pete, h does lem up. Don't you member whe we saw lem just a-spillin' out O there, al ragged and dirty, that time? Well, W began those men-and MT. Smith an MT. Atkins I'll be there, too, that sam way, maybe, sometime"
 Il He stopped for breath.
 ''You better be scared, you men!" h cried to the crowd at the counter. There deaderly poison in every drop! An bel if my papa knew'd it, you'd never a-bee drinkin' death and decay in our s'loor An when you get fat it's bad fat an you heart chokes up, an'-an' after awhil you die from aperplexy or somethin'!"
 Papa Burkins scowled, picked Pats up-woolly coat, fur cap and all, carrie him off tenderly, and came back furious
 He'd see whether his only child should
 taught such stuff, that he would, an away he went to hunt up Parson JudkiI
 and Miss Metcalfe.
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