“The children of the kingdom have to earn their daily bread, I reckon; manna don’t fall nowadays like it used to do for the chosen people.”
“Exactly,” said Crupp, “and them that ain’t chosen people don’t pick up their dinners without working for them either, without getting into jail for it. But, say! I didn’t come in here to make fun of you, Father Baguss. If you want some of that mill stock so bad, I’ll sell you some of mine—that is, if you’ll go into temperance with all your might.”
The old man seemed struck dumb for a moment but when he found his tongue, he made that useful member make up for lost time. “Go into temperance!” he shouted. “Did anybody ever hear the like of that? I that’s been a “Son” more’n half my life; that’s spent a hundred dollars—yes, more—in yearly dues; that’s been to every temperance meetin’ that’s ever been held in town, even when I’ve had rheumatiz so bad I could hardly crawl; that kept the pledge even when I was out in the Black Hawk War, where the doctors themselves said that I ort to have drank; that’s plead with drinkers, and been scoffed an’ reviled like my blessed Master for my pains; that’s voted for the Maine Liquor Law; that’s been dead agin lettin’ Miles Dalling into the church because he brews beer for his own family drinkin’, though he’s a good enough man every other way, as fur as I can see; I that went to see every member of our church, an’ begged an’ implored ’em not to sell our old meetin’-house to the feller that’s since turned it into a groggery; I to be told by a feller like you, that’s got the guilt of uncounted drunkards on your soul——”
Crupp, with a very white face, advanced a step or two toward the old man; but the participator in the Black Hawk War was not to be frightened, especially when he was so excited as he was now; so he roared,
“Come on! come on! perhaps you want my blood on your soul, with all the others; but just let me tell you, it isn’t easy to get!”
Crupp recovered himself and replied, “Father Baguss, all that you’ve done is very well in its way, but it wasn’t going into temperance. You’ve been a first-rate talker, I know, but talk isn’t cider. Why, there’s been lots of men in my store after listenin’ to one of your strong temperance speeches, and laughed about what they’ve heard. I’ve told them they ought to be ashamed of themselves—don’t shake your head—I have, and all they’d say would be, ‘Talk don’t cost anything, Crupp.’ But if you’d followed up your tongue with your brains, and most of all your pocket, not one of them chaps would have opened his head about you.”
“Money!” exclaimed the old man; “didn’t I tell you that division dues alone had cost me more’n a hundred dollars; not to speak of subscriptions to public meetin’s?”
“And every cent that didn’t go to pay ‘division’ expenses, that is—for keeping a lodge-room in shape for you to meet in, and such things—went to pay for more talk. Did you Sons of Temperance ever buy a man away from his whisky? It might have been done—done cheap too—in almost any week since I’ve been in Barton, by helping down-hearted men along. Did you ever do it yourself?”
Father Baguss was nonplussed for a moment, noting which a bystander, also a Son of Temperance, came valiantly to the rescue of his order, by exclaiming,