The Use and Need of the Life of Carrie A. Nation [100]
sum. To every citizen, student and philanthropist
the legal citations for reference are worth it. No temperance person
or prohibitionist can afford to be without a copy.--RAY RAND.
WORDS PROPHETIC.
The liquor traffic will never see another hour of peace in this
country. Mrs. Carrie Nation has sounded the alarm. There's a growing
hatred of the saloon. The speaker has sworn hostility to an
institution that feeds on the bodies and souls of men. I will pay my
taxes like an honest man and not saddle by my vote, the burden on the
tempted and weak, who will pay them over the bar and throw his wife
and children on the charity of the public.
What shall the harvest be?
As a people for years we pressed to our hearts the evil of human
slavery. It was profitable, we thought, but every drop of blood let by
the slaver's lash, God made us pay back with blood of our own upon the
altar. Many fortunes were built up by slave labor, but how many of them
were left after the war? "Whatsoever a nation soweth that shall it
also reap." What shall the harvest be from the wild sowing of the
legalized saloon? Our own country is a partner in the business for the
of revenue. I pray God that the liquor traffic may be abolished from
America, without bloodshed, and yet who dares prophesy that it shall
be so. Much blood has been let in these long years by drunken husbands
and fathers. Many fortunes have been built up by the traffic. What
shall the end be?
Right shall prevail--
"For right is right, as God is God;
And right the day will win.
To doubt would be disloyalty,
To falter would be sin."
Listen to the voice of the 20th century prophet as it comes ringing
down the grooves of change: "The saloon is going! Perhaps not by
your political party or mine, your church or mine; but God reigns and
his people will awake. And as it lies dying at last amongst its bags of
gold, and we stand over it, as I pray we may, if it shall look up into
our faces and whisper: "Another million of revenue for a single breath
of life!" You will say, as I will: "NO! Down, down to hell and say
I sent thee thither."
CHAPTER XIX.
DR. MCFARLAND'S PROTEST.--KICKED AND KNOCKED DOWN BY CHAPMAN OF
BANGOR HOUSE.--MEDDLING WITH THE DEVIL.--TIMELY WARNING TO OUR
BOYS AND GIRLS.--BRUBAKER OF PEORIA.--WITCHCRAFT.--LAST TIME IN
JAIL.
The determination of that rum anarchy in Topeka, Kansas, was such
that three consecutive times I was put in jail because I went into these vile
dens. Dr. McFarland, pastor of the First Methodist Episcopal church of
Topeka, came down at my last trial to see what the trouble was. The
police, when put on the witness stand, swore positive falsehoods and
Judge Magaw, the republican police judge, appointed there by the democratic
Mayor, Parker, that these two might unite their force of corruption,
knew that these police were swearing falsehoods but were winking
at the crime. I saw that the Doctor was getting ready to offer his
protest when the time came, and it came when I was sentenced to jail for
contempt of court, because I insisted on asking what kind of business
these dive-keepers were carrying on, which the judge wanted to keep out
of the witnesses mouths. Dr. McFarland arose and said: "I suppose you
want to fine me judge. I say this is an infernal outrage," repeating it
the second time. Judge Magaw said: "Yes I will fine you twenty-five
dollars." "You may make it a hundred." "Well, I will make it a hundred,"
said Judge Magaw. I was taken to jail. Dr. McFarland was
not, but walked out and said it was worth a hundred dollars to tell them
what he thought of such travesty on justice. Dr. McFarland had plenty
of friends who offered to pay the amount but I believe he paid it himself.
Then he began some investigation of the corruption at the police station.
He preached a sermon telling of this. It was published. I was in jail
next door to the room in which the mayor, Parker, and the police gathered
to discuss a suit for slander against Dr.
the legal citations for reference are worth it. No temperance person
or prohibitionist can afford to be without a copy.--RAY RAND.
WORDS PROPHETIC.
The liquor traffic will never see another hour of peace in this
country. Mrs. Carrie Nation has sounded the alarm. There's a growing
hatred of the saloon. The speaker has sworn hostility to an
institution that feeds on the bodies and souls of men. I will pay my
taxes like an honest man and not saddle by my vote, the burden on the
tempted and weak, who will pay them over the bar and throw his wife
and children on the charity of the public.
What shall the harvest be?
As a people for years we pressed to our hearts the evil of human
slavery. It was profitable, we thought, but every drop of blood let by
the slaver's lash, God made us pay back with blood of our own upon the
altar. Many fortunes were built up by slave labor, but how many of them
were left after the war? "Whatsoever a nation soweth that shall it
also reap." What shall the harvest be from the wild sowing of the
legalized saloon? Our own country is a partner in the business for the
of revenue. I pray God that the liquor traffic may be abolished from
America, without bloodshed, and yet who dares prophesy that it shall
be so. Much blood has been let in these long years by drunken husbands
and fathers. Many fortunes have been built up by the traffic. What
shall the end be?
Right shall prevail--
"For right is right, as God is God;
And right the day will win.
To doubt would be disloyalty,
To falter would be sin."
Listen to the voice of the 20th century prophet as it comes ringing
down the grooves of change: "The saloon is going! Perhaps not by
your political party or mine, your church or mine; but God reigns and
his people will awake. And as it lies dying at last amongst its bags of
gold, and we stand over it, as I pray we may, if it shall look up into
our faces and whisper: "Another million of revenue for a single breath
of life!" You will say, as I will: "NO! Down, down to hell and say
I sent thee thither."
CHAPTER XIX.
DR. MCFARLAND'S PROTEST.--KICKED AND KNOCKED DOWN BY CHAPMAN OF
BANGOR HOUSE.--MEDDLING WITH THE DEVIL.--TIMELY WARNING TO OUR
BOYS AND GIRLS.--BRUBAKER OF PEORIA.--WITCHCRAFT.--LAST TIME IN
JAIL.
The determination of that rum anarchy in Topeka, Kansas, was such
that three consecutive times I was put in jail because I went into these vile
dens. Dr. McFarland, pastor of the First Methodist Episcopal church of
Topeka, came down at my last trial to see what the trouble was. The
police, when put on the witness stand, swore positive falsehoods and
Judge Magaw, the republican police judge, appointed there by the democratic
Mayor, Parker, that these two might unite their force of corruption,
knew that these police were swearing falsehoods but were winking
at the crime. I saw that the Doctor was getting ready to offer his
protest when the time came, and it came when I was sentenced to jail for
contempt of court, because I insisted on asking what kind of business
these dive-keepers were carrying on, which the judge wanted to keep out
of the witnesses mouths. Dr. McFarland arose and said: "I suppose you
want to fine me judge. I say this is an infernal outrage," repeating it
the second time. Judge Magaw said: "Yes I will fine you twenty-five
dollars." "You may make it a hundred." "Well, I will make it a hundred,"
said Judge Magaw. I was taken to jail. Dr. McFarland was
not, but walked out and said it was worth a hundred dollars to tell them
what he thought of such travesty on justice. Dr. McFarland had plenty
of friends who offered to pay the amount but I believe he paid it himself.
Then he began some investigation of the corruption at the police station.
He preached a sermon telling of this. It was published. I was in jail
next door to the room in which the mayor, Parker, and the police gathered
to discuss a suit for slander against Dr.