The daily Gate City and constitution-Democrat. (Keokuk, Iowa) 1916-1922, 1919-06-21
SALVATION
ARMY SALOONS
After Death of John BarIeyeorn
Lassies Will Keep Brass Rail
and Ear For RECKLESS
Drinks.

NEW YORK. June 21.-Prohibition
or no prohibition, the little. old brass
rail, the mahogany bar and the
foaming beer spigot is going to stick.
Firmly convinced of the beneficial
psychology Of the brassy rail, the
Salvation Army has so decreed.
The waterfront" saloon is too
valuable a socializing and democrat
izing asset to be allowed to perish
with John Barleycorn, slum workers
believe. The atmosphere Of the
saloon, deodorized of all its stencil,
alone will justify the continued ex-
istence of the saloon, they say.
You can't take something away
from a man without giving him some
thing in return" Brigadier James
Welte, purchasing agent for the Sal
walton Army during the war, said
today. Deprive the 'floaters' and
saloon frequenters of place to con-
desirable as the saloon will take it's
place.
THE Salvation Army does not in
tend to eliminate the saloon. 1t aims
to reform it-make it a power for
decency and cleanliness rather than
a demoralizing influence in the COM
munity."
Already Salvation Army officials
in New York have secured options on
saloon locations in preparation for
the day when prohibition goes into
effect. But not for a single day will
these places close their doors. The
same old mahogany bar, the same
brass rail and the same bartenders-
in many instances-will remain. Only
the kick" in the drinks will dis
appear.
New Yorks pioneer soft drink
bar, located in the heart of Broad
ways tenderloin, just off Broadway
near Forty-seventh street, where
hearts are supposed to be light and
lights are bright and champagne
flows like water, has proved the
theory Of it's founders. Two months
ago tango lizards, folly girls, pubs
and Broadway habitues draped them
selves across the hardwood bar Of
the Victoria hotel. From noon til
early morn the place was crowded.
Today the place is still crowded,
but the men who lounge with hob
nailed boot upon the rail are bronzed,
| weatherbeaten veterans Of the A. T..
F., or Uncle Sans navy. And the
women, not the delicately tinted,
hand-painted folly favorites, but
clear-eyed Salvation Army lassies,
war workers and returned nurses.
And before the war many that now
/ call for a grape fizz" had called for
gin rickey or Scotch straight.
| tits the psychology Of the brass
rail-" quoth Tony, the bartender,
who for decade has mixed refresh
ing rotations here. Put a glass in
a. mans hand and he instinctively
fishes around with his foot for the
rail. Makes no difference whether
he is drinking Scotch or soda; with
his hoof comfortably fixed he will
talk as long as anyone listens to
hin-just like in the olden days.
Gradually he eases himself down un'
til his chin gets In his hand and his
elbow on the table or bar-and he's
ancohred until closing time.
In the riverfront saloon, where
the Bowery bum formerly got glass
OF beer and a sandwich for nickel,
the Salvation Army intends to have
the same old bartender with his
CHEEKY "Howdy, Mike! Hello Bill!
on the job. That is, If he wants to
stay. and many have said they
would. But light drinks and dough
nuts will replace the hard drinks.
| The stove and smoke and atmos-
phere will still be there, Welte de-
clared.
"And we don't intend to feed him
religion, either Saloons and relig-
ion don't synchronize. If we can
maintain the saloon as place where
man can drop in, get bite to eat
and warm himself, and incidentally
eliminate all the demoraliztng influ-
ences that surrounded the old rum
house. we believe 1t will be worth
while" Welte added
salvation Army lassies-veterans
also of the A. e. Twill capitalize
their immense popularity among the
returning doughboys to assist make
the saloon an attractive place for the
down and outer"