There is No Harm in Dancing

by W. E. Penn

THEY WILL BE ANSWERED THEN.

How many girls have innocently and ignorantly killed themselves, or have sown the seed of some terrible lingering disease, by checking the course of nature, by bathing or otherwise, in their preparation for the ball room, which they would not have done to attend any other place? How many women, all over the country, are suffering the pangs of death from this cause alone?

One of the handsomest and most accomplished girls I ever knew, at the age of eighteen, ignorantly killed herself in this way. I know through physicians of many others who have wrecked their health in the same way. Let the invalids among the women tell their physicians the truth, and then let the physicians and the graves speak out, and the world would be horror-stricken at the awful report. Whiskey has slain its thousands, but the ball, the hop, the dance, its tens of thousands.

In this connection I wish to give young men some wholesome advice, which, if observed, will keep them out of a great deal of trouble, and save the payment of a great many bills. Whenever you hear that an old clock, an old carriage, an old saw-mill, an old steamboat, or a woman or girl who is passionately fond of dancing is on the market, be certain to remain in bed or get the sheriff, which is much safer, to put you in jail until these articles are disposed of. I respectfully refer to all who have had any of these articles knocked off on them.

When the ball closes, the young men take the girls to their homes. In a little while the girls—darling angels—are in the land of dreams, but they certainly never dream that they have been "sowing the seeds of eternal shame, sowing the seeds of a maddened brain." They never dream that they are responsible for all the sins and crimes that flow from the ball room, BUT THEY CERTAINLY ARE, because if they would not go to these places, there never would be another ball or hop or dance upon the face of all the earth.

MEN WILL NOT DANCE BY THEMSELVES.

If they do, they will not injure any one but themselves, and they will be certain not to keep late hours. While the girls are dreaming, the young men are assembling at some favorite room or corner down in town. If Jim gets there first he waits for Bill, and then they wait for Jack, Bob, Ben, Charlie and the balance of the club. When they are all in, one or two of the older ones propose to go across the way and take a drink at the corner saloon, which is still in blast; yes, running at a full head of steam, or rather mean whiskey. Now here is a very strange thing. I have never heard of but one first-class saloon closing until after the ball closed, and in this case the owner was very sick and the bar-tender had skipped with the cash balance. Some of these boys have been taught by their old-fogy fathers and mothers that such things are not to be found on the straight and narrow road, because there is no room for them along this road, and no use for them either.

I have carefully examined my way-bill to heaven, and it was made out by one who knows every foot of the way, but I find no mention made of drinking saloons, ball rooms, theaters, operas, houses of ill-fame, and such like places as being on or near this road. The same one has furnished me a way-bill to hell, and I find all these places mentioned as being on the line of this road. Whenever you find yourself, dear reader, at one of these places, you may know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you are not in the narrow road; and with equal certainty you may know you are in the broad road. Now these boys are evidently on the broad road, because the devil's sutler-shops are not to be found anywhere else, for the very good reason that he cannot get a permit to put them up on the narrow road. He would put them in the very center of heaven if he possibly could. His impudence and daring is only equaled by his fathomless corruption. The man or woman who will dare to say that these places are found on the road to heaven, certainly has a very poor idea of heaven and its inhabitants. If they are to be found along the straight and narrow way, and the travelers along this way are to enter and participate in the things therein going on, then they are certainly designed of God to aid in the salvation of immortal souls. If this be true, on entering the narrow way the first refreshments we shall get are to be found in one of these places, having this sign over the door; "FIRST CHANCE," and the last thing we pass in this life, just before we enter heaven, will be another one of these houses with this inscription over the door: "LAST CHANCE." Some of these boys don't understand it this way; they have been raised to think that "there is no harm in dancing," but were never told that the dancing shops of all kinds are on the same road with all the drinking saloons and other places of a like character. No, the same parents told their sons that the drinking saloon is next door to hell, and these are the ones we read about in the Bible, who "strain at a gnat and swallow a camel." That is to say, in those days when Christ was on earth, there were some people so peculiarly constituted that they strained at a gnat and swallowed a camel; but we live in an age of improvement, an age in which some people strain at a gnat, and swallow a Jumbo with perfect ease and in the most graceful manner.

I know an advocate of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union, who often dances all night, most gracefully, and in the morning she turneth up her little nose, just as gracefully as the elephant turneth up his snout when Peck's bad boy has thrown him a piece of tobacco, at the awful drinking saloon and saloon keepers. The private parlor dance is the beginning, the first depot on the great air-line route from this world to the city of destruction; here the boys and men are drawn into the coaches by the general passenger agents: the MOTHERS, WIVES, DAUGHTERS, SISTERS and SWEETHEARTS. This line is advertised as the finest and best equipped road beneath the sun. Fine sleepers; all the way through, without change. Special guarantee against accidents. This road is laid with smooth, glass rails, and the wheels are made of India rubber. Drinking saloons, beer gardens, and some other places I'll not mention, are the wood yards and tanks, where fuel and water is procured which gets up the steam that draws the train with increasing velocity down to the great city of destruction. When the train stops for wood and water, all the passengers are expected to take part in the very interesting and social performance. But here are same boys who beg to be excused. "Can't excuse you," cries the brakesman. "Come along, you can take a small stick in the way of a cigar;" and so these boys, not wishing to appear ugly and incur the ill will of the brakesman, walk into a saloon for the first time. They first take a cigar, but soon the brakesman (an old stager) laughs them to scorn and confusion, and not being able to stand the fire, they throw down the cigar and take their first drink in a drinking saloon. After the drinks have been repeated a few times, one of the brakesmen, well under the influence of whiskey or wine, takes a careful look at all present, and if satisfied there is no relative or sweetheart in hearing, he then and there tells an anecdote on one of the nice girls or married ladies with whom they have been dancing, that certainly would bring the blush of shame to the cheeks of the blackest devil that inhabits the world of outer darkness. The drink, and anecdotes of the same character, only worse, if possible, are repeated until interrupted by the appearance of a half-witted looking young man, entering from a back door, who seems to have something of great importance to tell the bartender. He talks low, but sufficiently loud to be heard by the boys, for it is really for their ears. "Have you heard the news?" "No, what news." "Why, about Bill Jones; he went in back here to-night with only five dollars for a stake, and he has just now gone home with five hundred dollars in his pocket." Then the boys slide out, and as soon as out in a dark corner, they begin to enquire to see if a stake can be raised among them, finding none, one or two being confidential clerks, go to the store, bank or other place of business, and borrow fifteen or twenty dollars, having no doubt of their ability to win a few hundred dollars in a little while, and then replace the borrowed money without it ever being known. Soon the borrowed stake is in the hands of the dealer. They repeat the drinks, and then borrow some more in the same way, which goes into the same hands as the first, and thus they continue until the appearance of day-light, and then reeling to and fro under the influence of the mean whiskey they have been drinking, and the ponderous weight of their sins and crimes, they go to their rooms, cursing the day on which they were born.

THEY HAVE LOST ALL SELF-RESPECT.