"If you are bound to run a rum-hole, Lem," said the plain-spoken doctor, "don't expect a woman in her condition to help you run it."
Lem thought it hard—and he looked for sympathy among his neighbors.
He got what he was looking for, but of rather doubtful quality.
"I cartainly do wish Marm'd git well—or sumpin'," he said one day in Walky Dexter's hearing. "I don't see how a man's expected to run a ho-tel without a woman to help him. It beats me!"
"It'll be sumpin' that happens ter ye, I reckon," observed Walky, drily. "Sure as yeou air a fut high, Lem. In the Fall. Beware the Ides o' September, as the feller says. Only mebbe I ain't got jest the month right. Haw! haw! haw!"
Town Meeting Day was in September. The call had already been issued, and included in it was the amendment calling for no license in Polktown—the new ordinance, if passed, to take immediate effect.
The campaign for prohibition was continued despite the influx of Summer visitors. Indeed, because of them the battle against liquor selling grew hotter. Not so many "city folks" as the hotel-keeper and his friends expected, desired to see a bar in the old-fashioned community. Especially after the first pay day of the gang working on the branch of the V. C. Road. When the night was made hideous and the main street of Polktown dangerous for quiet people, by drink-inflamed fellows from the railroad construction camp, a strong protest was addressed to the Town Selectmen.
There was a possibility of several well-to-do men building on the heights above the town, another season. Uncle Jason had a chance to sell his sheep-lot at such a price that his cupidity was fully aroused. But the buyer did not care to close the bargain if the town went "wet" in the Fall. Naturally Mr. Day's interest in prohibition increased mightily.
The visiting young people would have liked to hold dances in Lem Parraday's big room at the Inn. But gently bred girls did not care to go where liquor was sold; so the dancing parties of the better class were held in the Odd Fellows Hall.
The recurrent temperance meetings which had at first been held in the
Town House had to seek other quarters early in the campaign. Mr. Cross
Moore "lifted his finger" and the councilmen voted to allow the Town
Hall to be used for no such purpose.
However, warm weather having come, in a week the Campaign Committee obtained a big tent, set it up on the old circus grounds behind Major Price's place, somewhat curtailing the boys' baseball field, and the temperance meetings were held not only once a week, but thrice weekly.