"Quit selling liquor, sir!" exclaimed Sandy, more astonished than ever. "Quit selling liquor just at this time, when you have made such a hit?"
"Yes, Sandy, I'm going to quit it. I'm afraid that we rum-sellers are on the side of hell."
"I never once supposed that we were on the side of heaven," the bar-keeper replied, half smiling.
"Then what side did you suppose we were on?"
"O, as to that, I never gave the matter a thought. Only, it never once entered my head that we could claim much relationship with heaven. Heaven feeds the hungry and clothes the naked. But we take away both food and clothing, and give only drink. There is some little difference in this, now one comes to think about it."
"Then I am right in my notion."
"I'm rather afraid you are, sir. But that's a strange way of thinking."
"Aint it the true way?"
"Perhaps so."
"I am sure so, Sandy! And that's what makes me say that I'm done selling rum."