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VOLUME FIVE
NUMBER THIRTY-ONE
FIGHTING "JOHN "BARLEYCORN” IN FLORIDA
The "Battle Tor State-Wide Prohibition is Gloriously On and the White Ribboned Hosts of the Woman's Christian Temper
ance Union are in the Thick of the Tight—Lots of Tun With a Tlorida Lawyer.
I
TARTING TO Florida the other night
to begin a two-weeks campaign “agin
licker” under the auspices of the Wo
man’s Christian Temperance Union, I
met a Florida lawyer on the train who
put me on my mettle. And then —well,
I had more fun out of him than “six
monkeys all tied up in one sack.”
I was in the smoker (though I was
not smoking, thank you) on the A. B. & A., making
for Douglas and a quick change to the new Georgia
and Alabama that would take me to Madison, Fla.
“Going to speak at Madison,” you say—“what on?”
said a smallish blue-eyed man, with a classical air.
“Agin licker,” I said. I am going to speak in a
campaign for State-wide prohibition in Florida, un
der the auspices of the W. C. T. U..”
“You ARE!” he said, somewhat excited. “I am
against you. I am for local option. I am not a
liquor man, you understand. I am just against the
prohibition amendment on principle.”
“What kind of principle?” I asked.
“Why,” said he, rather hotly, “governmental prin
ciple, of course. I am not for whiskey. • I want you
to understand —I’m acting on principle.”
“Well,” said I, “there is only one thing to be
settled by the election on November 8th —Saloons
or no Saloons in Florida. My principle makes me
fight saloons, and your principle
makes you vote to keep saloons in
Florida —so your principle must be a
liquor principle.”
WHEW! You ought to have seen
my new friend dodge and explain.
“I am a lawyer, sir,” he said, “and
I prosecute blind tigers in our “dry”
county, but I am just opposed to State
wide prohibition on principle!”
“Liquor principle,” I could not help
smiling.
Then, a big lawyer from a South
Georgia town took up the argument.
“I would vote against saloons in my
own town,” he said, “for I don’t want
my boy exposed to the open tempta
tion, but ‘prohibition won’t prohibit,’
and I doubt if it is the best way to
handle the liquor question. When I
want a drink I’m going to get it.”
And the laugh of the unreconstruct
ed “boozers” rang out through the
Pullman.
“Gentlemen,” I replied, “my friend
J. A. Mables, of Texas, was right. He
said that when a man favors the
liquor business and opposes prohibi
;ion, he does it for one of three things
—for the money that’s in it; or for
ATLANTA, GA., SEPTEMBER 22, 1910.
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WwfOlSrat ifflir
LA FAYETTE COUNTY COURT HOUSE, MAYO, FLA.
Where the Editor debated with Hon. John Garnto, and where the
school children sang for the first time the chorus: “JOHN BARLEY
CORN MUST DIE.”
__________________________ J(J|
By WILLIAM D UPSHAW.
u 'WL v
MISS MINNIE E. NEAL,
President W. C. T. U. of Florida.
the politics that’s in it; or for the liquor that’s in it.”
And then the big man laughed aloud: “Well, Mr.
Upshaw, I guess in this case it is the liquor that’s
in it, for I have a quart in my valise.”
“I have, too,” chimed in the little Florida lawyer.
“And we both got it in your ‘prohibition’ town of
Atlanta,” they said in chorus.
“Did you buy it openly over the counter of a
near-beer saloon?” I asked.
“No, but we found it all right in a club.”
And I thought of the saying of another friend—
that “a buzzard can always find carrion.”
After a few more words the emboldened Florida
lawyer said, with decided vehemence: “And I just
told my wife she shouldn’t contribute to the work,
nor take any part in this prohibition campaign.”
“O, yes,” I said, “you are willing for her to stay
at home, rear the children and nurse her grief in
sorrow, and si’ence if the saloons get them, while
you prosecute somebody else’s children that go wrong
and vote to continue in Florida the saloons that
must prosper alone on the ruin of your sons or some
other parent’s sons. Good night, gentlemen, good
night!”
It Was “The Liquor That Was In It.”
The next morning in the dressing room a young
man who heard the discussion the night before, said
to me: “Mr. Upshaw, I fear your speech last night
was lost on our friends. One of them got a quart
of liquor out of his valise after you left and they
had a big time practicing what they had been preach
ing.”
TWO DOLLARS if YEAR.
FIVE CENTS A COPY.
“I’m glad to have a line on that,” I
said, and then I went in the day coach
after we changed at Fitzgerald, and
sitting down by my Florida lawyer,
began:
“I’ve been thinking about you a
good deal since last night. I lay there
in my berth and thought about you
this morning, and I want to tell you
this: I know a noble woman in
Georgia who said: “I never can for
give my husband for not letting me
take part in the campaign against
bar-rooms in my town. Other women
did it. I had suffered from the ef
fect of liquor on my loved ones and
I wanted to do my part in driving
it out, but he wou’d not let me —and
I never WILL get over it.’
“Don’t make your wife feel that
way,” I said to my Florida friend.
“Go to her tenderly and say: ‘Sweet
heart, I have been wrong. However,
I may vote myself, I recognize your
right to think, feel and act as you
wish in the matter. These are your
children, as well as mine, and if you
want yourself and them to take part In
this campaign, you have my consent.’ ”
(Continued on Page 8.)
