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CONNOR
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Again there was silence. Then the
secretary rose, with a slight flush upon
his handsome, delicate face, and sec
onded \he motion. If they would par
don a personal reference, ho would
give them Ids reasons. He had come
to this country to make gu! fortune.
Now he was anxious to make enough
to enable him to go home with some
degree of honor. His home held every
thing that was dear to him. Between
him and that home, between him' and
all that was good and beautiful and
honorable, stood whisky. 'Tin asham
ed to confess," and the flush deepened
ou his cheek and his lips grow thin
ner, “that I feel the need of some such
league." His handsome face, his per
fect style of address, learned possibly
In the Union, but, more than all, his
show of nerve, for these men knew
how to value that, made a strong Im
pression on his audience, but there
were no following cheers.
Mr. Craig appeared hopeful, but on
Mrs. Muvor’s face there wns n look of
wistful, tender pity, for she knew how
much the words had cost the lad.
Then up rose a sturdy, hard featured
than, with a bur in his volco that pro
claimed his birth. His name wns
George Crawford, I afterward learned,
but every ono called him Gcordlo. Ho
was a character in his way, fond of
Ids glass; but, though he wns never
known to refuse a drink, ho wns never
known to bo d^unk. He took his drink,
for the most part, with broad and
cbecso In his own shack or with a
friend or two In a sober, respectable
vtmy, but never could bo Induced to
Join the wild carousals In Slnvln’s sa
loon. Ho made'the highest wages, but
was far too true a Scot to spend his
money recklessly. Every ono waited
eagerly to hear Goordio’s mind. He
spoko solemnly, as befitted a Scotsman
expressing a deliberate opinion, and
cnre'fully, as If dumping Ills best Eng
lish, for when Geordlo became excit
ed no one In Black Rock could under
stand him.
“Malater Clmirmon," said Geordlo,
•Tm aye for temperance in a’ things.”
There was a shout of lnughter, at
whlbh GoordlO gazed round In pained
surprise. ‘TU no’ dony,” lie went on
In an explanatory tone, “that I talc ma
mornln’ an* maybe a nip at noon an’ a
.wee drap alfter warlc in the evenin’
an’ whiles a sip o’ toddy wi' a freon
the cauld nlchts, but I’m no’ a guz
zler, an’ I dinna gang in wi’ the loons
Hingin’ aboot guid money.”
“And that’s thrue for ye, me.bye,” In
terrupted a rich Irish brogue, to the
delight of the crowd and the amaze
ment of Geordle, who went calmly on:
‘‘An’ I cauna bide you saloon wlmur
they sell sic awfu’-liko stuff—it’s malr
like lye nor guld whisky—an’ wliaur
ye’re never sure o’ yer rlcht change.
It’s an awfu’-lilce place. Man,” and
Geordle began to warm up, “ye can
Juist smell the sulphur when ye gnng
in. But I dinna care aboot the tem
perance soceeltlcs, wl’ their pledges nn’
havers, an’ I canna see wlmt lmirm
can come till a man by talcin' a bottle
o’ guid! Glenllvet ham© wi’ him. I cau
na bide the teetotal buddies.”
Geordie’s speech was followed by
loud applause, partly appreciative of
Geordlo himself, but largely sympa
thetic with his position.
Two or three men followed in the
same strain, advocating a league for
mutual Improvement and social pur
poses, but without the teetotal pledge.
They were against the saloon, but did
not see why they should not take a
drink now, nnd then.
Finally the manager rpse to support
his “friend, Mlstab—ah—Cwafoad," rid
iculing the Idea of a total abstinence
pledge as fanatical and indeeh “ab-
suad.” He was opposed to the saloon
and would like to see a club formed,
(With a comfortable clubroom, books,
magazines, pictures, games, anything,
“dontcherknow, to make the time pass
pleasantly,” but it was “qbsuad to ask
men to abstain fwom a pwopah use of
— aw — nouwishing dwinks” because
some men made beasts of themselves.
He concluded by offering $50 toward
the support of such a- club.
} The current of feeling was setting
strongly against the total abstinence
idea, and Craig’s face was hard, and
his eyes gleamed like coals. Then he
did a bit of generalship. He proposed
that since they had the two plans
•clearly before them they should take
a few minutes’ intermission in which
to make up their minds, and he was
sure they would be glad to have Mrs.
Mavor sing. In the interval the men
talked in groups, eagerly, even fiercely,
hampered seriously in the forceful ex-
■pression of their opinions by the pres-
-ience of Mrs. Mavor. who gilded from
-group to_ group, dropping a word here
and a smile there. She reminded me of
a general riding along the ranks, brac
ing his men for the coming battle. She
paused beside Geordle, spokp earnestly
for a few moments, .while Geordle
gazed solemnly at her, and then she
came back to Billy in the corner near
me. What she wns saying I could not
(hear, but poor Billy Was protesting,
spreading his hands out aimlessly be
fore him, but gazing at her the while
In dumb admiration. Then she came to
me.
“Poor Billy I He was good to my
husband,” she sold softly, “and he has
a good heart”
“He’s not much to look at” I could
not help saying.
“The oyster hides its pearl,” she an
swered, a little reproachfully.
“The shell is apparent onough,” I re
plied, for the mischief was in me.
“Ah, yes,” she replied softly, “but it
Is the pearl wo love.”
I moved over besido Billy, whose
eyes woro following Mrs. Mavor as she
went to speak to Mr. Craig.
“Well,” I said, “you all seem to have
a high opinion of her.”
“An ’igh hoplnlonl” he replied In
deep scorn. "An ’lgb hopinfcm, you
calls it!”
“Wlmt would you call it?” I asked*
wishing to draw him out"
“01 don’t call it nothink,” he replied,
spreading out his rough bands.
“She seems very nice,” I said indif
ferently.
He drew his eyes away from Mrs.
Mavor and gave attention to me for
the first time.
“Nice!” ho repeated, with fine con
tempt and then ho added impressive
ly, “Them as don’t know shouldn’t say
nothin k."
“You are right,” I answered earnest
ly, “and I am quite of your opinion.”
He gave mo a quick glance out of his
little, deepset dark blue eyes nnd open
ed his heart to me. He told me In his
quaint speech how again and again
she had taken him in and nursed him
and encouraged him and sent him out
with n new heart for his battle until,
for very shame’s sake at his own mis
erable weakness, ho had kept out of
her way for many months, going stead
ily down.
“Now, 01 haln’t got no grip, but when
she says to me toulght, says she, ‘Oh,
Billy’—she calls me Billy to myself”
(this with a touch of pride) —“ ‘oh,
Billy,’ says she, ‘we must ’ave a total
habstiuence league tonight, nnd OI
want you to ’elpl’ and she keep’s a-look-
in’ at mo with those heyes o’ hern till,
if you believe me, sir,” lowering his
voice to an emphatic whisper, “though
Ol lcnowed 01 couldn’t ’elii none, afore
01 knowed 01 promised ’er 01 would.
It’s ’er heyes. When them heyes says
‘do,’ hup you steps and ‘does.’ ”
I remember my first look into her
eyes, nnd I could quite understand
Billy’s submission. Just ns she began
to sing I went over to Geordle and took
my seat besido him. She began with
an English slumber song, “Sleep, Ba
by, Sleep,” one of Barry Cornwall’s, I
think, nnd then sang a love song with
the refrnin, “Love once again,” but no
thrills came to me, and I began to won
der If her spell over me was broken.
Geordle, who had been listening some
what indifferently, encouraged me,
however, by saying: “She’s just pittin’
aff time with the feckless sangs. Man,
there’s line grup till them.” But when,
after a few minutes’ pause, she began
“My Ain Fireside” Geordle gave a
sigh of satisfaction, “Aye, that’s some
thin’ like,” and when she finished the
first verse he gave me a dig in the ribs
with his elbow that took my breath
away, saying ih a whisper, “Man, hear
till yon. wull ye?” And again I found
the spell upon me. It was not the
voice, after all, taut the great soul be
hind, that thrilled and compelled. She
was seeing, feeling, living, what she
sang, and her voice showed us her
heart The cozy fireside, with its bon
ny, blithe blink, where no care could
abide, but only peace and love, was
vividly present to her, and as she sang
we saw it too. When she came to the
last verse:
“When I draw in my stool
On my oozy hearthstane,
My heart loups sae licht
I scarce ken't for my ain,”
there was a feeling of tears in the flow
ing pong, and we knew the words had
brought her a picture of the fireside!
that would always seem empty. I felt!
the tears in my eyes, and, wondering j
at myself, I cast a stealthy glance at'
the men about me, and I saw that they,!
too, were looking through their hearts’ I
windows upon firesides and ingle nooks I
that gleamed from far.
And then she sang “The Auld Hoose,” i
and Geordle. giving me another poke. [
said. “That’s my ain sang,” and when
I asked him what he meant he whis
pered fiercely, “Wheesht, mon!” and I
did, for his face looked dangerous.
In a pause between the verses I heard
Geordle saying to himself, “Aye, I maun
gie it up, I doot.”
“What?” I ventured.
“Naetbin’ ava.” And then he added
impatiently, “Mon, but ye’re an in-
queesltive buddie,” lifter which I sub
sided into silence. ,
Immediately upon the meeting being
called to order Mr. Craig made his
speech, aqd it was a fine bit of work.
Beginning with a clear statement of
the object in view, he set in contrast
the two kinds of leagues proposed—one
a league of men who would take whis
ky in moderation, the other a league of
men who were pledged to drink none
themselves and to prevent in every
honorable way others from drinking.
There was no long argument, but he
spoke at white heat, and as he appeal
ed to the men to think, each not of
himself alone, but of the others as well,
the yearning born of his long months
of desire and toil vibrated in his voice
and reached to the heart -Many men
looked uncomfortable and uncertain,
and even the manager looked none too
cheerful.'
At this critical moment the crowd got
a shock. Billy Breen shuffled out to
the front and, in a voice shaking with
nervousness and emotion, began to
speak, his large, coarse hands wander
ing tremulously about:
“Oi bain’t no bloomin’ temperance
horator, and mayhap Oi hain’t no right
to speak ’ere; but Oi got somethin’ to
saigh, and Oi’m a-goin’ to saigh it
“Parson, ’e says, ‘Is it wisky or no
wisky in this ’ere club?’ If ye hask
me, wlch ye don’t, then no wisky, says
01, and if ye hask why, look at me!
Once 01 could mine more coal than
hany man in the camp; now Oi hain’t
fit to be i a sorter. Once Oi ’ad some
pride nnd humbition; now Oi ’angs
I round n-waitin’ for some one to saigh,
*’Ere, Billy, ’ave summat’ Once t 0i
made good palgh and sent it ’ome reg
ular to my poor old mother. She’s in
the wukus now, she is. Oi hain’t sent
’er hany for a year and a ’alf. Once
Billy wns a good fellow nnd ’ad plenty
o’ friends; now Slavin ’isself kicks uu
hout, ’e does. Why? Why?” His
voice rose to a shriek. “Because when.
Billy 'ad money in ’is pocket he very
man in this bloomin’ camp as meets
on at hevery corner says, * ’Elio, Billy,
wnt’U ye ’live?’ And there’s wisky at
Slnvin’s, and there’s wisky in the
shacks, and hevery ’oliday and hevery
Sunday there’s wisky, and w’en ye
feel bad it’s wisky, and w’en ye feel
good it’s wisky, and heverywhere and
halways it’s wisky, wisky, wisky! And
now ye’re goin’ to stop it, and ’ow?
The manager, ’e says picters and mag
azines. ’E takes ’is wine and ’is beer
like a gentleman, ’e does, and ’e don’t
’ave no use for Billy Breen. Billy,
’e’s a beast, and the manager, ’e kicks
un hout. But supposin' Billy wants
to stop bein’ a beast and starts a-tryin’
to be a man again, and w’en ’e gets
good an*, dry along comes some un
and snys, * ’Elio, Billy, ’ave a smile?’ it
hain’t picters nor magazines ’ud stop
un then. Picters and magazines!
Gawd ’elp the man as hain’t nothink
but picters and magazines to ’elp un
w’en ’e’s got a devil hinside and a dev
il houtside a-shovin’ nnd a-drawin’ of
un down to ’ell. And that’s w’ere Oi’m
a-goin’ straight, and yer bloomin’
league, wisky or no wisky, can’t ’elp
me. But,” nnd he lifted his trembling
hands above his head, “if ye stop the
wisky n-fiowin’ round this camp ye’ll
stop some o’ these lads that’s a-follow-
ini me ’nrd. Yes, yqu, and you, and
you!” And his voice rose to a wild
B.cream as he shook a trembling finger
at one and another.
“Mon, it’s fair grewsome tae hear
him,” said Geordie. “He’s no' canny."
And, reaching out for Billy as he went
stumbling past, he pulled him down to
a seat beside him, snyin: “Sit doon,
lad; sit doon. We’ll male a mon o’ ye
yet” Then he rose and, using many
r’s, said, “Maister Cbairmon, a’ doot
we’il juist hae to gie it up.”
“Give it up?” called out Nixon. “Give
up the league?” |
“Na, na, lad, but juist the wee drap
whusky. It’s nae that guid onyway,
and it’s a terrible price. Mon, gin ye
gang tae Henderson’s ip Buchanan
street in Gleska, ye ken, ye’ll get mair
for three an’ saxpence than ye wull at
Slavin's for $5, an’ it’ll no’ pit ye mad
like yon stuff, but it gangs doon smooth
an’ saft-like. But” regretfully, “ye’ll
no’ can get it here, an’ I’m thinkin’ I’ll
juist sign yon teetotal thing.” And up
he strode to the table and put’ his name
down in the book Craig had ready.
Then to Billy he said: “Come awa, lad!
Pit yer name doon, an’ we’il stan’ by
ye.”
Poor Billy looked around helplessly,
his nerve all gone, and sat still. There
was a swift rustle of garments, and
Mrs. Mavor was beside him and, in a
voice that only Billy and I could hear,
said:
“You’ll sign with me, Billy?”
Billy gazed at her with a hopeless
look in his eyes and shook his little
head. She leaned slightly toward him,
smiling brightly, and, touching his arm
gently, said:
“Come, Billy; there’s no fear,” and in
a 16wer voice, “God Will help you.”
. As.Billy went ud. following Mrs. Ma
vor close, a hush "fell on the men until
he had put his name to the pledge.
Then they came up, man by man, and
signed. But Craig sat with his head
down till I touched his shoulder. He
took my hand and held it fast, saying
over and over, under his breath:
“Thank God! Thank God!”
And so the league was made.
CHAPTER VI.
BLACK ROCK RELIGION.
W jHEN I grow weary with the
I conventions of religion and
sick in my soul from feeding
upon husks that the churches
too often offer me in the shape of elab
orate service and eloquent discourses,
so that in my sickness I doubt and
doubt, then I go back to the commun
ion in Block Rock and the days pre
ceding it, and the fever and the weari
ness leave me, and I grow humble and
Btrong. The simplicity and rugged
grandeur of the faith, the humble grat
itude of the rough men I see about the
table and the calm radiance of one
saintly face rest and recall me.
Not its most enthusiastic apologist
would call Black Rock a religious com
munity, but it possessed in a marked
degree that eminent Christian virtue
of tolerance. All creeds, all shades of
religious opinion, were allowed, and it
was generally conceded that one was
as good as another. It is fair to say,
however, that Black Rock’s catholicity
was negative rather than positive. The
only religion objectionable was that in
sisted upon as a necessity. It never
occurred to any one to consider reli
gion other than as a respectable if not
ornamental addition to life in older
lands.
During the weeks following the mak
ing of the league, however, this nega
tive attitude toward things religious
gave place to one of keen investigation
and criticism. The indifference passed
away and with it in a large measure
the tolerance. Mr. Craig was respon
sible for the former of these changes,
but hardly in fairness could he be held
responsible for the latter. If any one
more than another was to be blamed
for the rise of intolerance in the vil
lage, that man was Geordie Crawford.
He had his “lines” from the Estab
lished Kirk of Scotland, and when Mr.
Craig announced his intention of hav
ing the sacrament of the Lord’s supper
observed Geordie produced his lines
and handed them in. As no other man
in the village was equipped with like
spiritual credentials, Geordie constitut
ed himself a kind of kirk session,
charged with the double duty of guard
ing the entrance to the Lord’s table
and of keeping an eye upon the theo
logical opinions of the community and
more particularly upon such members
of it as gave evidence of possessing
any opinions definite emjvgh for state
ment.
It came to be Mr. Craig’s habit to
drop into, the leagueroom and toward
the close of the evening to have a short
Scripture lesson from the gospels.
Geordie’s opportunity came after the
meeting was over and Mr. Craig had
gone away. The men would hang
about and talk, the lesson over, ex
pressing opinions favorable or unfa
vorable, as appeared to them good.
Then it was that all sorts of views, re
ligious and otherwise, were aired and
examined^ The originality of the' ideas,
the absolute disregard of the authority
of church or creed, the frankness with
which opinions were stated and the
forcefulness of the language in which
they were expressed combined to make
the discussions altogether marvelous.
The passage between Abe Baker, the
stage driver, and Geordie was particu
larly rich. It followed upon a very
telling lesson on the parable of the
Pharisee and the publican.
AO BE CONTINUED.
“The blood is the life.” Science
has never gone beyond that simple
statement of scripture. But it has
illustrated that statement and given
it a meaning ever broadening with
the increasing breadth of knowl
edge. When the blood is “bad” or
impure it is not alone the body
which suffers through disease. The
brain is also clouded, the mind and
judgment are affected, and many an
evil deed or impure thought may be
directly traced to the impurity of
the blood. No one can be well bal
anced in mind and body whose
blood is impure. No one can have
a wholesome and pure life unless the
blood is pure. Foul blood can be
made pure by the use of Dr. Pierce’s
Golden Medical Discovery. When
the blood is pure, body and brain
are alike healthy ahd life becomes a
daily happiness.
Free.—Dr. Pierce’s Common Sense
Medical Adviser, 1008 pages, 700 il
lustrations, is sent free on receipt of
stamps to defray expense of mailing
only. Send 21 one-cent stamps for
paper covers, or 31 stamps for cloth,
to Dr. R. V.-Pierce, 663 Main street,
Buffalo, N. Y.
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