The morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1899-1930, 1905-06-10
THE SATANIC DRINK ouEdLEs OUT.

IHE hATANtG DHlNh uVEuLto oOI'
have been soothed since by the uni
form good will eyinced by all classes
Of citizens toward me.
Il am here among you to speak on
matter closely concerning your phys
teal and moral welfare. may say that
Il concerns your present happiness and
your future state OF bliss. I am no
temperance fanatic who would burst
In all the DOCS OF all the breweries
and smash In all the doors OF oil the
saloons, but have few words TO say
to you about one invidlous drink In
particular.
1T Is not old rye whisky. which
has slain is hundreds OF thousands
and caused the knees OF MILLIONS more
to wabble; II Is not the brandy which
leaves a thirst three feet long down
the neck behind It; II Is not that brand
Of lager beer which causes brother to
strike brother and sister to pull sisters
hair. II is that sleek. sly. artful and
lnvidious beverage known as hard ci-
der. You win be surprised, as others
have been, to hear that II biteth like a
serpent and stlngeth like an adder, but
walt until you hear what I have to
say.
"Let me draw you an everyday pic.
ture-a picture TO be met with at thou
sands OF flresides every evening In the
week-and trust that some few Of
you at least win be affected to tears.
II so. shall be somewhat consoled as
an offset TO the fact that the receipts
Of the house this evening are only 40
cents in cash
"The farmers toll for the day 10
Ger. His beasts of burden have gone
to their feed and rest, and be has I'm.
ished his supper and sat down to look
over the family almanac and see when
the next full moon Is due. His wife
takes up her knitting. his son retires
to the garret to scrape the fiddle. and
the cat stretches out on the hearth
rug and Is glad that she is still alive.
1t Is a quiet, peaceful scene, and the
most cold blooded villain could not
look upon II without remembering the
mother who used to pat him on the
head and predict that he would some
day be a preacher.
Suddenly the gray haired farmer,
who has seen fifty years come and 20.
begins to hitch around as II he had
absently sat down on a hornets nest.
He drops the almanac; he becomes
careless as to the new moon; a thirst
begins to rise up from his toes and
make his ears tingle, His good wife
gives him a glance Of reproach. and |
he hesitates for FIVE minutes longer. |
Then he rises up and remarks that he |
will step down cellar for q minute to |
see II the potato bugs are comfortable, |
and be passes out OF the room, gets |
four quart pitcher from the kitchen |
and 10 soon kneeling before the barrel |
OF hard cider down cellar.
ALIAS, we oil know what follows!
The spigot Is turned, the Satanic drink |
gurgles out and the brimmlng pitcher |
Is carried upstairs and Its contents
quafFed win ehuckIeS Qt satisfaction
between every swalO -
Tempted BY the sight and smell,
the farmers wife gradually yields and
at length downs a glass and asks for
two or three more. The son with the
fiddle has an intuition that there ls
hilarity going on downstairs, and he
ceases to scrape the walllng strings
and descends to claim bis share.
THAT quiet peaceful picture Of half
an hour ago is turned into a wild revel.
Youth forgets itself-old age becomes
reckless. The pitcher is emptici only
to be promptly FeAiled, and when eight
or ten quarts have been disposed Of
Satan himself enters the room to make
the fourth person present.
He tempts the old farmer to charge
bis wife with wearing out two pairs
Of shoes In the last three years and
to twit her Of fendish desire to send
him to the poorhouse, She retoTts By