"HOW much have you taken in to-day, Sandy?" asked a modernrum-seller of his bar-tender, after the doors and windows of hisattractive establishment were closed for the night.
"Only about a dollar, Mr. Graves. I never saw such dull times in mylife."
"Only about a dollar! Too bad! too bad! I shall be ruined at thisrate."
"I really don't know what ails the people now. But 'spose it's theseblamenation temperance folks that's doin' all the mischief."
"We must get up something new, Sandy;--something to draw attentionto our house."
"So I've been a thinkin'. Can't we get George Washington Dixon towalk a plank for us? That would draw crowds, you know; and thenevery feller almost that we got in here would take a drink."
"We can't get him, Sandy. He's secured over at the--. But, anyhow, the people are getting up to that kind of humbuggery; and I'mafraid, that, like the Indian's gun, it would cost in the end morethan it came to."
"Couldn't we get a maremaid?"
"A mermaid?"
"Yes, a maremaid. You know they had one in town t'other day. Itwould be a prime move, if we could only do it. We might fix her uphere, just back of where I stand, so that every feller who called tosee it would have to come up to the bar, front-face. There'd be nobacking out then, you know, without ponying up for a drink. No onewould be mean enough, after seeing a real maremaid for nothing, togo away without shelling out a fip for a glass of liquor."
"Nonsense, Sandy! Where are we to get a mermaid?"
"Where did they get that one from?"
"That was brought from Japan; and was a monkey's head and body sewedon to a fish's tail,--so they say;"
"Well, can't we send to Japan as well as any one? And as to itsbeing a monkey's head on a fish's tail, that's no concern. It wouldonly make a better gull-trap."
"And wait some two years before it arrived? Humph! If that's theonly thing that will save me, I shall go to the dogs in spite ofthe--"
"Don't swear, Mr. Graves. It's a bad habit, though I am guilty of itmyself,"--the bar-tender said, with vulgar familiarity. "But, whyneed we wait two years for a maremaid?"
"Did you ever study geography, Sandy?"
"Jografy?"
"Yes."
"What's that?"
"Why, the maps, at school."
"I warn't never to school."
"Then you don't know how far Japan is from here?"
"Not exactly. But 'spose it's some twenty or thirty miles."
"Twenty or thirty miles! It's t'other side of the world!"
"O, dear! Then we can't get a maremaid, after all. But 'spose we tryand get a live snake."
"That won't do."
"Why not?"
"A live snake is no great curiosity."
"Yes, but you know we could call it some outlandish name; or saythat it was dug up fifty feet below the ground, out of a solid rock,and was now all alive and doin' well."
"It wouldn't do, Sandy."
"Now I think it would, prime."
"It might if these temperance folks were not so confounded thickabout here, interfering with a man and preventing him making anhonest living. If it wasn't for them, I should be clearing five orten dollars a day, as easy as nothing."
"Confound them! I say," was Sandy's hearty response; while heclenched his fist, and ground his teeth together. "If I had a roperound the necks of every mother's son of 'em, wouldn't I serve 'emas old Julus Cesar did the Hottentots? Wouldn't I though! But whatcould they say or do about it, Mr. Graves."
"They'd pretty quick put it on to us in their temperance papersabout the good device we had. They'd talk pretty fast about theserpent that seduced Eve, and all that. No, blast 'em! A snake won'tdo, Sandy."
"How will a monkey do?"
"A monkey might answer, if he was a little cuter than common. But wecan't get one handy."
"Try a band of music."
"That would soon wear out; and then we should have to get upsomething else, and the people would suspect us of trying to gullthem."
"Then what is to be done, Mr. Graves? We can never stand it at thisrate."
"I'm sure I don't know." And the rum-seller leaned upon his bar, andlooked quite sad and dejected.
"I wonder what has become of Bill Riley?" he at length asked, risingup with a sigh. "He hasn't been here for a week."
"Dick Hilton told me to-day that he believed he had joined theteetotallers."
"I feared as much. He was one of my very best customers; worth aclear dollar and a half a week to me, above the cost of the liquors,the year round. And Tom Jones? Where can he be?"
"Gone, too."
"Tom Jones?" in surprise.
"It's a fact. They got him on the same night Bill Riley was caught."
"Foolish fellow, to go and throw himself away in that style! Themtemperance men will get from him every dollar he can earn, to buildTemperance Halls, and get up processions, and buy clothes for lazy,loafing vagabonds, that had a great sight better be sent to thepoorhouse. It is too bad. My very blood boils when I think whatfools men are."
"And there's Harry Peters,--Dick Hilton told me that he'd gone,too."
"Not Harry Peters, surely!"
"Yes. He hasn't been near our house for several days.
"Well, something must be done to get up a new set of customers, orwe are gone. We must invent some new drink."
"What shall it be?"
"O, that's no consequence. The name must be taking."
"Have you thought of one?"
"No, Can't you think of something?"
"Well--Let me see. But I'm sure I don't know what would do."
"What do you think of 'Bank Stock?' That would attract attention."
"I can't say that I like it."
"Or 'Greasers?'"
"Most too vulgar."
"So I think myself. Suppose we call it a 'Mummy?'"
"I'm afraid it wouldn't go. It ought to have 'Imperial,' or'Nectar,' or something like that about it."
"O, yes, I see your notion. But they've all been used up long ago.It must be some entirely new name, which, at the same time, will hita popular idea. As 'Tariff,' or 'Compromise.'"
"I see now. Well, can't you hammer out something?"
"I must try. Let me see. How will 'Sub-Treasury' do?"
"Capital! 'Graves' Sub-Treasury' will be just the thing. You see,the young-fellows will say--'Why, what kind of a new drink is thisthey've been getting up, down at the Harmony House?'
"'I don't know--What is it?'
"'The Sub-Treasury, they call it.'
"'Have you tried it yet?'
"'No.'
"'Well, come, let's give him a call. Novelty, you know, is the orderof the day.'
"That's the way these matters work, Mr. Graves. But how are yougoing to make it?"
"I've not thought of that. But anything will do. Liquor tastes goodto 'em any way you choose to fix it."
"True enough. You can leave that part to me. I'll hatch up somethingthat will tickle as it goes down, and make 'em wish their throatswere a mile long, that they might taste it all the way."
"Have you tried Graves' new drink yet, Joe?" asked one young man ofanother, a day or two after the conversation just noted took place.
"No.--What is it?"
"Sub-Treasury."
"Sub-Treasury? That must be something new. I wonder what it is?"
"I've just been wondering the same thing. Suppose we go down and tryit."
"I was about swearing off from ever tasting another drop of liquor.But, I believe I will try a 'Sub-Treasury' with you, just for thefun of the thing."
"Well, come along then."
And so the two started off for the Harmony House.
"Give us a couple of Sub-Treasuries," said one of them as theyentered; and forthwith a couple of glasses filled with mixedliquors, crushed ice, lemonpeel, and snow-white sugar, wereprepared, and a straw placed in each, through which the young men"imbibed" the new compound.
"Really, this is fine, Nelson!" said the one, called Joe, smackinghis lips.
"It is, indeed. You'll make your fortune out of this, Graves."
"Do you think so?" the pleased liquor-seller responded, with a broadsmile of satisfaction.
"I've not the least doubt of it," Joe, or Joseph Bancroft, said,--"Ihad half resolved to join the temperance society this day. But your'Sub-Treasury' has shaken my resolution. I shall never be able to doit now in this world, nor in the next, either, if I can only get youin the same place with me to make 'Sub-Treasury!' Ha! ha! ha!"
"A Sub-Treasury," said another young man, coming up to the bar.
"Here, landlord, let us have one of your--what do you call 'em? O,Sub-Treasuries!" was the request of another.
"Hallo, Sandy! What new-fangled stuff is this you've got?" broke ina half-drunken creature, staggering up, and holding on to thebar-railing. "Let us have one, will you?"
Both Sandy and Graves were now kept as busy as they could be, mixingliquors and serving customers. The advertisement which had beeninserted in two or three of the morning papers, in the followingwords, had answered fully the rum-sellers' expectations.
"Drop in at the HARMONY HOUSE, and try a 'Sub-Treasury.' 'What is aSub-Treasury?' you ask. Come and see for yourself, and taste foryourself. Old Graves' word for it, you'll never want anything elseto wet your whistle with, as long as you live."
All through the forenoon the run was kept up steadily, dozens of newfaces appearing at the bar, and cheering the heart of thetavern-keeper with the prospect of a fresh set of customers. Abouttwo o'clock, succeeded a pause.
"That works admirably,--don't it, Sandy?" said Mr. Graves, as soonas the bar-room was perfectly clear, for the first time, sincemorning.
"Indeed, it does. They havn't given me time to blow. But aint somefolks easily gulled?"
"Easily enough, Sandy. This Sub-Treasury they think somethingwonderful. But it's only rum after all, by another name, and in alittle different form. A 'cobbler,' or a 'julep' has lost itsattractions; but get up some new name for an old compound, and yougo all before the wind again."
"I think we might tempt some of the new converts to temperance withthis. Bill Riley, for instance."
"No doubt. I'll see if I can't come across Bill; he is too good acustomer to lose."
And so saying, Mr. Graves retired from the bar-room, to get hisdinner, feeling better satisfied with himself than he had been for along time. After eating heartily, and drinking freely, he went intohis handsomely furnished parlour, and reclined himself upon a sofa,thinking still, and with a pleasurable emotion that warmed hisbosom, of the success of his expedient to draw custom. He had beenlying down, it seemed to him, but a few moments, when a tap at thedoor, to which he responded with a loud "come in," was followed bythe entrance of a thin, pale, haggard-looking creature, her clothessoiled, and hanging loosely, and in tatters about her attenuatedbody. By the hand she held a little girl, from whose young face hadfaded every trace of childhood's happy expression. She, too, wasthin and pale, and had a fixed, stony look, of hopeless suffering.They came up to where he still lay upon the sofa, and stood lookingdown upon him in silence.
"Who are you? What do you want?" the rum-seller ejaculated, raisinghimself up with a strange feeling about his heart.
"The wife and child of one of your victims! He is dying, and wishesto see you."
"Who is he? What is his name?" asked the tavern-keeper, while hisface grew pale, and his lips quivered.
"William Riley," was the mournful reply.
"Go home, woman! Go home! I cannot go with you! What good can I doyour husband?"
"You must go! You shall go!" shrieked the wretched being, suddenlygrasping the arm of Mr. Graves, with a tight grip, while her handseemed to burn his arm, as if it were a hand of fire.
A sudden and irresistible impulse to obey the call of the dying mancame over him, and as he arose mechanically, the mother and herchild turned towards the door, and he followed after them. Onemerging into the street, he became conscious of a great and suddenchange in external nature. On retiring from his bar an hour before,the sun was shining in a sky of spotless beauty. Now the heavenswere shrouded in dense masses of black clouds that were whirlinghere and there in immense eddies, or careering across the sky as ifdriven by a fierce and mighty wind. But below, all was hushed andpulseless as the grave; and the stagnant air felt like the hotvapour over an immense furnace. The tavern-keeper would have pausedand returned so soon as he became conscious of this fearful change,portending the approach of a wild storm; but his conductors seemedto know his thoughts; and turning, each fixed upon him a stern andthreatening look, whose strange power he could neither resist norunderstand.
"Come," said the mother in a hollow, husky voice; and then turnedand moved on again, while the tavern-keeper followed impulsively.They had proceeded thus, for only a few paces, when a fierce lightglanced through half the sky, followed by a deafening crash, underthe concussion of which the earth trembled as if shaken to its verycentre. The tavern-keeper again paused in shrinking irresolution,and again the woman's emphatic,
"Come!" caused him to follow his guides mechanically.
Soon the storm burst over their heads, and raged with a wild fury,such as he had never before witnessed. The wind howled through thestreets and alleys of the city, with the roar of thunder; while thedeep reverberations following every broad sheet of lightning thatblazed through the whole circle of the heavens, was as the roar of adissolving universe. Amid all this, the rain fell like a deluge. Butthe rum-seller's guides paused not, and he kept steadily onwardsafter them, shrinking now into the shelter of the houses, and nowbreasting the fierce storm with a momentary desperate resolution.
Through street after street, lined on either side with wretchedtenements that seemed tottering and just ready to fall, and throughalley after alley, where squalid misery had hid itself from the eyeof general observation, did they pass, in what seemed to Mr. Gravesan interminable succession; At last the woman and her child pausedat the door of an old, wretched-looking frame house, that appearedjust ready to sink to the ground with decay.
"This is the place, sir. Come in! Your victim would see you beforehe dies," the woman said in a deep voice that made a chill runthrough every nerve, at the same time that she looked him sternlyand with an expression of malignant triumph in the face.
Unable to resist the impulse that drove him onward, the rum-sellerentered the house.
"See there, sir! Look! Behold the work of your own hands!" exclaimedthe woman with startling emphasis, as he found himself in a room,with a few old rags in one corner of it for a bed, upon which lay,in the last sad agonies of dissolution, his old customer, BillRiley, who, he had been that day informed by his bar-keeper, hadjoined the temperance society.
"There, sir! See there!" she continued, grasping his arm, anddragging him up to where the miserable wretch lay. "Look athim!--Bill--Bill!" she continued, stooping down, while she stillheld tightly the rum-seller's arm, and shaking the dying man."Bill--Bill! Here he is. You said you wanted to see him! Now cursehim, Bill! Curse him with your dying breath!" And the woman's voicerose to a wild shriek.
The wretch, thus rudely and suddenly called back from the brink ofdeath into a painful consciousness of existence, half rose up, andstared wildly around him for a moment or two.
"Here he is, Bill! Here he is!" resumed his wife, again shaking himviolently.
"Who? Who?" inquired the dying man.
"Why, the rum-seller, who robbed you of your hard earnings, that hemight roll in wealth and feast daily on luxuries, while your wifeand children were starving! Here he is. Curse him now, with yourdying breath! Curse him, I say, Bill Riley! Curse him!"
"Who? Who?" eagerly asked the wretched being, a thrill of new lifeseeming to flash through his exhausted frame--"Old Graves? Where ishe?"
"Here he is, Bill! Here he is! Don't you see him?"
"Ah, yes! I see him now!" And Riley fixed his eyes, that seemed, tothe rum-seller, to burn and flash like balls of fire, sending offvivid scintillations, upon him with a long and searching stare.
"Ah, yes," he continued, "this is old Graves, the rum-seller, whohas sent more men to hell, and more widows and orphans to thepoor-house, than any other man living. How do you do, sir?" risingup still more in his bed, and grasping the unwilling hand of thetavern-keeper, which he clenched hard, and shook with superhumanstrength. "How are you, old fellow? I'm glad to see you once more inthis world. We shall have a jolly time in the next, though, shan'twe?"
A smile of malignant triumph flitted for a moment over the lividface of Riley. Then its expression brightened into one ofintelligence.
"Look here," he said, and brought his lips close to the ear ofGraves. Then in a deep whisper, he breathed the words,
"Sub-Treasury!"
The rum-seller started, suddenly, and grew paler than ever.
Instantly a loud, unearthly laugh rang through the room, causing theblood to curdle about his heart.
"Ha! ha! ha! I thought that chord could be touched! Ha! ha! That wasa capital idea, wasn't it, old fellow? But you were too late forBill Riley. You thought the temperance men had him. But that was alittle mistake."
The sweat already stood in large drops on the pale face of thetavern-keeper, and his limbs trembled like the quivering aspen.
"Horrible!" he murmured, closing his eyes, to shut out the scene.
"Not half so horrible as the place where I was, just before you camein, Mr. Graves," said Riley in a calmer voice. "And where do youthink that was?"
"In hell, I suppose," replied the rum-seller, with the energy ofdesperation.
"Exactly," was the calm reply. "And what do you think I heard andsaw there? Let me tell you. I was dead for a little while, and foundmyself in strange quarters, as you will say, when you get there. Ialways thought devils had long tails, and cloven feet, horns, andall that kind of thing. But that's a vulgar error. They are nothingbut wicked men like you, who in this world have taken delight ininjuring others. You will make a first-rate devil! Ha! ha! I heard'em say so, and wishing you were only there to help them work outtheir evil intentions.
"There are a great many little hells there, all grouped into oneimmense hell, like societies here, grouped into one larger societyor nation. And there, as here, every smaller society is engaged indoing some particular thing, and all are in one society who love todo that thing. As for instance, all who, while here, have takendelight in theft, are there associated together, and are all thewhile busy in inventing reasons to put into the heads of thieveshere to justify them in stealing. Murderers, in like manner; and sorum-sellers. They have a hell all filled with rum-sellers there! Iwas let into it for a little while to see what was going on, and whodo you think I saw there. Why, old Adams, that died about a monthago. The old fellow was as lively as a cricket, and as busy as abee.
"'How is that prime old chap, Graves?' he asked of me, as soon as hefound out I was there.
"'I havn't seen him for a week,' I replied. 'I have been sick forthat time.'
"'But he's a rum 'un, though, ain't he?' chuckled Adams. 'Many ascheme he and I have laid to get money out of the grog-drinkers. Buthe was always ahead of me. I used, in my early days, to feel alittle compunction when I saw a clever fellow going to ruin. But itnever affected him in the least. All was fish that came into hisnet. I wish we had him with us. We want just such scheming devils ashe to help us devise ways and means to circumvent these temperancemen. They'll ruin us, if we don't look out. How were they coming onwhen you left?'
"'Carrying everything before them,' I said. 'The rum-sellers arealmost driven to their wit's ends for devices to get customers.'
"'Too bad! Too bad!' ejaculated old Adams. 'I'll turn hell upsidedown, but what I'll beat them out.'
"'You'll have to do your prettiest, then, let me tell you, oldfellow,' I rejoined, 'for the temperance cause is going with aperfect rush. It is a mighty torrent whose course, neither men nordevils can stay. It moves onward with a power and majesty thatastonishes the world,--and onward it will move, until your hell ofrum-makers and rum-sellers will not be able to find a single pointthrough which to flow into the world and tempt men with yourinfernal devices!'
"O, if you had heard the horrid yell of malignancy which arose, andechoed through the black chamber of that region of wickedness andmisery, it would have made you shrink into nothingness with terror.They fairly gnashed on me with their teeth in impotent rage. Atlength old Adams got upon a whiskey-still--they have such things inhell--the pattern was got from there when introduced here, and madea speech to his associates. From what he said, I found that he hadminute information of all that was going on in this region.
"'Old Graves,' he said--'our very best man, has already been soreduced in his business by this accursed temperance movement, thathe has recently thought seriously of giving up. This must not be. Wecannot lose him. No mind receives our suggestions more readily thanhis.--If he gives up, we lose a host. You all know, that ourinfluence on earth is powerless, unless we have men to carry out ourplans. If they will not listen to our suggestion--if they will notbecome our agents, we can do nothing there. As spiritual existences,we cannot affect that which is corporeal, except through thespiritual united with the corporeal--that is, through spiritualbodies in material bodies. In other words, we can act on men'sminds, and they can do our works on earth for us. Now, seeing thatwe can do nothing to stop this temperance movement, except throughthe self-love of the rum-sellers and rum-makers, it will never do tolet old Graves fall. We must help him to some new scheme by which tobring back his diminished custom. Now what shall it be?'
"'Some device that will call attention to his bar-room, is what iswanted,' remarked one.
"Yes, that is plain enough,' replied old Adams, who seemed to be akind of head devil there--'but what shall it be? That's thequestion!'
"'Suppose we put him up to getting a woman to walk a plank,'suggested one.
"'No. That has been tried already; and if it is tried again so soon,these temperance men will cry, humbug!'
"'How would it do for him to get a pretty girl behind his bar.'
"'That might do. But then, his wife is a sort of religious woman,and wouldn't let him do it.'
"Couldn't we induce him to poison her, and so get her out of theway?'
"'No--That's out of the question. He kind of likes the woman toowell for that.'
"'What, then, do you suggest?'
"'Some new drink will be the thing. Something that will tickle theear at the same time that it tickles the palate. It will be a greatthing, if, in this matter, we can kill two birds with one stone.Bring back by some new attraction the wavering ones, and turn thetide of custom in the direction of our very particular friend Mr.Graves.'
"'Have you thought of a name for it?'
"'No.'
"'How would Ambrosia do?' suggested one.
"'Not at all,' replied old Adams. 'It aint the thing to catch gullsnow-a-days. And more than that, it isn't something new.'
"'What do you think of Harlequinade?'
"'That might answer; but it's been used, already.'
"'Fiscal agent?'
"'The same objection.'
"'Mummy?'
"'The same.'
"'Cobbler?'
"'Good, but stale.'
"'Greaser?'
"'No'--And Adams shook his head emphatically.
"'Sam Weller?'
"'Been used already.'
"'Veto?'
"'That too.'
"'Hardware?'
"'Likewise.'
"'What do you think of Elevator?'
"'That might do; but still I can't exactly say that I like it. Itshould be something to strike the popular idea.'
"'Sub-Treasury, then?'
"That's it, exactly! Sub-Treasury--Sub-Treasury. Let it be calledSub-Treasury! And now, as I have more power over Graves than any ofyou, let me have the managing of him.' And so saying, Adams seemedto go away, and remain, for a day or two. When he came back, all thedevils gathered around him full of interest to hear of his success.They greeted him, first, with three wild, infernal cheers, full ofmalignant pleasure, and then asked,
"'What news? What news from earth?'
"'Glorious!' was his response. And then another wild yell of triumphwent up.
"'I found Graves,' he went on, 'just the same pliant fool that hehas ever been. He fell into my suggestions at once, and on the verynext day advertised his 'Sub-Treasury.' It took like a charm. Icould tell you of a dozen young fellows just about being caught bythe teetootallers, who couldn't withstand the new temptation. Therewas one in particular. His name is Joe Bancroft. Only married aboutthree years, and almost at the bottom of the hill already. On theday before 'Sub-Treasury' was announced, he came home sober, for thefirst time in six months. His wife, a beautiful young girl when hemarried her, but now a thin, pale, heart-broken creature, sat near awindow sewing when he entered. But she did not look up. She heardhim come in--but she could not turn her eyes towards him, for herheart always grew sicker whenever she saw the sad changes that drinkhad wrought upon him.
"For a few moments Joe stood gazing at his young wife, with atenderer interest than he had felt for a long time. He saw that shedid not look up, and was conscious of the reason.
"'Sarah,' he at last said, in a voice of affection, coming to herside.
"'What do you want?' she replied, still without looking up.
"'Look up at me, Sarah,' he said, in a voice that slightly trembled.
"Instantly her work dropped from her hands, and she lifted her eyesto the face of her husband, and murmured in a low, sad tone,
"'What is it you wish, Joseph?'
"'You look very pale, and very sorrowful, Sarah,' her husband said,with increasing tenderness of tone and manner.
"It had been so very long since he had spoken to her kindly, orsince he had appeared to take any interest in her, that the firsttenderly uttered word melted down her heart, and she burst intotears, and leaning her head against him, sobbed long andpassionately.
"With many a kind word, and many a solemn promise of reformation didthe husband soothe the stricken heart of his wife, into which a newhope was infused.
"'I will be a changed man, after this, Sarah,' he said--'And then it must go well with us. It seems as if I had been, forthe last year, the victim of insanity. I cannot realize how it ispossible for any one to abandon himself as I have done; to theneglect of all the most sacred ties and duties that can appertain tous. How deeply--O, how deeply you must have suffered!'
"'Deeply, indeed, dear husband!--More than tongue can utter,' theyoung wife replied, in a solemn tone. 'It has seemed, sometimes, asif I must die. Day after day, week after week, and month aftermonth, to see you coming in and going out, as you have done, forever intoxicated. To have no kind word or look. No rationalintercourse with one to whom I had yielded up my heart soconfidingly. O, my husband! you know not how sad a trial you haveimposed upon your wife!'
"'Sad--sad, indeed, I am sure it has been, Sarah! But let us try andforget the past. There is bright sunshine yet for us, and it willsoon, I trust, fall warmly and cheeringly on our pathway.'
"All that day Bancroft remained at home with his wife, renewing hisassurances of reformation, and laying his plans for the future. Isaw all this, and began to fear lest Joe would really get freed fromthe toils we had, through the rum-sellers, thrown around him--toils,that I had felt, sure would soon cause him to fall headlong downamongst us. I, of course, suggested nothing to him then; for itwould have been of little use. Towards night, his wife proposed thathe should sign the pledge. I was at his ear in a moment--
"'That would be too degrading!' I whispered. 'You have not got quiteso low as that yet.'
"'No, Sarah, I do not wish to sign the pledge,' he at once replied.
"'Why not, dear?'
"'Because, I have always despised this way of binding oneself downby a written contract, not to do a thing. It is unmanly. Myresolution is sufficient. If I say that I will never drink anotherdrop, why I won't. But if I were to bind myself by a pledge not totouch liquor again, I should, never feel a moment's peace, until Ihad broken it.'
"These objections I readily infused into his mind, and he at onceadopted them as his own. I had power to do so, because I nowperceived that his love of drink was so strong, that he did not wishto cut off all chance of ever tasting it again. He, therefore,wanted specious reasons for not signing the pledge, and with these Ipromptly furnished him!
"It was in vain that his wife urged him, even with tears and eagerentreaties to take the pledge: I was too much for her, and made himfirm as a rock in his determination not to sign.
"On the next morning, he parted with his wife, strong in hisresolution to be a reformed man. The pleasant thrill of her partingkiss, the first he had received for more than a year, lingered inhis memory and encouraged him to abide by his promise. He passed hisaccustomed places of resort for liquor, on his way to business, butwithout the first desire to enter. I noted all this, and kept myselfbusy about him to detect a moment of weakness. Our friend Gravesadvertised his 'Sub-Treasury' on that morning. I calculated largelyon the novelty of the idea to win him off. But, somehow or other, hedid not see it. Another young man, one of his companions, did,however:
"'Have you tried Graves' new drink, yet?' he asked of him abouteleven o'clock, while he was under the influence of a pretty strongthirst.
"'No, what is it?' he replied, with a feeling of lively interest.
"'Sub-Treasury,' replied his friend.
"'Sub-Treasury! That must be something new! I wonder what it canbe?'
"Into this feeling of interest in knowing what the new drink couldbe, I infused a strong desire to taste it.
"'Suppose we go and try some,' suggested his friend.
"'There'll not be the least danger,' I whispered in his ear. 'Youcan try it, and refrain from drinking to excess. The evil has beenyour drinking too much. There is no harm in moderate drinking. Thisdecided him, and I retired. I knew, if he tasted, that he was gone.'
"Down he went to the Harmony House;--I was there when he came in. Itwould have done your hearts good to have seen with what delight hesipped the new beverage,--and to have heard him say, as I did, toGraves;--'I had half resolved to join the temperance society thisday,--but your Sub-Treasury has entirely shaken my resolution. Ishall never be able to do it now in this world, nor in the nexteither, if I can only get you in the same place with me to makeSub-Treasury.' And then he laughed with great glee. One, of course,did not satisfy him, nor two, nor three. Before dinner-time he wasgloriously drunk, and went staggering home as usual. I could notresist the inclination to see a little of the fun when he presentedhimself to his wife, whose fond hopes were all in the sky again.Like a bird, she had sung about the house during the morning, herheart so elated that she could not prevent an outward expression ofthe delight she felt. As the hour drew near for her husband'sreturn, a slight fear would glance through her mind, quicklydismissed, however;--for she could not entertain the idea for amoment that his newly-formed resolution could possibly be so soonbroken.
"At last the hour for his accustomed return arrived. She heard himopen the door--and sprung to meet him. One look sufficed to breakher heart. Statue-like she stood for a moment or two, and then sunksenseless to the floor.
"Other matters calling me away, I staid only to see this delightfullittle scene, and then hurried back to the Harmony House, to see ifthe run was kept up. Customers came in a steady stream, and crowdedthe bar of our worthy friend, whose heart was as light as a feather.I saw at least half a dozen come in and sip a glass of Sub-Treasury,who I knew had not tasted liquor for months. I marked them; andshall be about their path occasionally. But the best thing of allthat I saw, was a reformer break his pledge. He was, years ago, anoted drunkard, but had been a reformed man for four years. In thattime he had broken up several grog-shops, by reforming all theircustomers, and had got, I suppose, not less than five or six hundredpersons to sign the pledge. I had, of course, a particular grudgeagainst him. It was an exceedingly warm day, and he was uncommonlythirsty. He was reading the paper, and came across the'Sub-Treasury' advertisement.
"'Ha! ha! What is this, I wonder?' he said, laughing; some new trickof the enemy, I suppose.'
"'Look here, what is this Sub-Treasury stuff, that Graves advertisesthis morning?' he said, to a young fellow, a protegeof mine, who was more than a match for him.
"'A kind of temperance beverage.' I put it into the fellow's head tosay.
"'Temperance beverage?'
"'Yes. It's made of lemonpeel, and one stuff or other, mixed up withpounded ice. He's got a tremendous run for it. I know half a dozenteetotallers who get it regularly. I saw three or four there to-day,at one time.'
"'Indeed!'
"'It's a fact. Come, won't you go down and try a glass? It'sdelightful.'
"'Are you in earnest about it?'
"'Certainly I am. It's one of the most delicious drinks that hasbeen got up this season.'
"'I don't like to be seen going into such a place.'
"'O, as to that, there is a fine back entrance leading in fromanother street, that no one suspects, and a private bar into thebargain. We can go in and get a drink, and nobody will ever see us.'
"'Well, I don't care if I do,' said the temperance man, 'for I amvery dry.'
"'You're a gone gozzling, my old chap,' I said, as I saw him movingoff. 'I thought I'd get you before long.' Sure enough, the moment hetook the first draught his doom was sealed. His former desire forliquor came back on him with irresistible power; and beforenightfall, he was so drunk that he went staggering along the street,to the chagrin and consternation of the teetotallers; but to theinfinite delight of your humble servant.
"And so saying, that malignant fiend, who, while he inhabited amaterial body, was called old Billy Adams, stepped down from thestill. Then there arose three loud and long cheers, for Graves, andhis 'Sub-Treasury,' that echoed and re-echoed wildly through thatgloomy prison-house.
"You're much thought of down there, you see," continued Riley, witha cold grin of irony.--"Adams says, that if this temperance movementaint stopped soon, they will have to get you among them, and makeyou head devil in that department. How would you like that, oldchap, say? How would you like to go now?"
As Riley said this, he threw himself forward, and clasped his thin,bony fingers around the neck of the rum-seller, with a strong grip.
"How would you like to go now, ha?" he screamed fiercely in his ear,clenching his hand tighter and still tighter, while his hot breathmelted over the face of Graves in a suffocating vapour. Thestruggles of the rum-seller were vigorous and terrible--but thedying man held on with a superhuman strength. Soon everything aroundgrew confused, and though still distinctly conscious, it was aconsciousness in the mind of the tavern-keeper of the agonies ofdeath. This became so terrible to him that he resolved on one lastand more vigorous effort for life. It was made, and the hands of thedying man broke loose. Instantly starting to his feet, the wretcheddealer in poison for both the bodies and souls of men, found himselfstanding in the centre of his own parlour, with the sweat rollingfrom his face in large drops.
"Merciful Heaven! And is it indeed a dream?" he ejaculated, pantingwith terror and exhaustion.
"A dream--and yet not all a dream," he added, in a few moments, in asad, low tone.--"In league with hell against my fellow-men! Can itindeed be true? But away! away such thoughts!"
Such thoughts, however, could not be driven away. They crowded uponhis mind at every avenue, and pressed inward to the exclusion ofevery other idea.
"But I am not in league with evil spirits to do harm to myfellow-men. I do not wish evil to any one," he argued.
"You are in such evil consociation," whispered a voice within him."There are but two great parties in the world--the evil and thegood. No middle ground exists. You are with one of these--workingfor the good of your fellow-men, or for their injury. One of thesegreat parties acts in concert with heaven, the other with hell. Onthe side of one stand arrayed good spirits--on the side of the otherevil spirits. Can good spirits be on your side? Would they, for thesake of gain, take the food out of the mouths of starving children?Would they put allurements in a brother's way to entice him to ruin?No! Only in such deeds can evil spirits take delight."
"Then I am on the side of hell?"
"There are but two parties. You cannot be on the side of heaven, anddo evil to your neighbour."
"Dreadful thought! In league with infernal spirits to curse thehuman race! Can it be possible Am I really in my senses?"
For nearly half an hour did Graves pace the floor backwards andforwards, his mind in a wild fever of excitement. In vain did hetry, over and over again, to argue the point against the clearestand strongest convictions of reason. Look at it as he would, it allresolved itself into that one bold and startling position, that hewas in league with hell against his fellow-men.
"And now, what shall I do?" was the question that arose in his mind."Give up my establishment?"
At that moment, Sandy, the bar-tender, opened the parlour door, andsaid with a broad smile--
"The Sub-Treasury is working wonders again! I'm overrun, and wanthelp."
"I can't come down, just now, Sandy. I'm not very well. You willhave to get along the best you can," Graves replied.
"I don't know what I shall do then, sir: I can't make 'em half asfast as they are called for."
"Let half of the people go away then," was the cold reply. "I can'thelp you any more to-day."
Sandy thought, as he withdrew, that the "old man" must have suddenlylost his senses. He was confirmed in this idea before the nextmorning.
It was past twelve o'clock when the run of custom was over, andSandy closed up for the night. As soon as this was done, Mr. Gravescame in for the first time since dinner.
"It's been a glorious day for business," Sandy said, rubbing hishands. "I've taken in more, than thirty dollars. Lucifer himselfmust have put the idea into your head."
"No doubt he did," was the grave reply.
Sandy stared at this.
"Didn't you tell me that Bill Riley had joined the temperancesociety?"
"Yes, I did," replied the bar-keeper.
"Are you sure?"
"I am sure, I was told so by one that knew."
"I only wish I was certain of it," was the reply, made halfabstractedly. And then the dealer leaned down upon the bar andremained in deep thought for a very long time, to the still greatersurprise of Sandy, who could not comprehend what had come over hisemployer.
"Aint you well, Mr. Graves," he at length asked, breaking in uponthe rum-seller's painful reverie.
"Well!" he ejaculated, rousing up with a start. "No, I am not well."
"What is the matter, sir?"
"I'm sick," was the evasive response.
"How, sick?" was Sandy's persevering inquiry.
"Sick at heart! O, dear! I wish I'd been dead before I opened agrog-shop!"--And the countenance of Mr. Graves changed its quiet,sad expression, to one of intense agony.
Sandy looked at the tavern-keeper with an air of stupid astonishmentfor some moments, unable to comprehend his meaning. It was evidentto his mind that Mr. Graves had suddenly become crazed aboutsomething. This idea produced a feeling of alarm, and he was aboutretiring for counsel and assistance, when the tavern-keeper rousedhimself and said:
"When did you see Bill Riley, Sandy?"
"I saw him yesterday."
"Are you certain?" in a quick, eager tone.
"O yes. I saw him going along on the other side of the street withtwo or three fellows that didn't look no how at all likerum-bruisers."
"I was afraid he was dead," Mr. Graves responded to this, breathingmore freely.
"Dead! Why should you think that?" inquired Sandy, still more mystified.
"I had reason for thinking so," was the evasive reply. A pause ofsome, moments ensued, when the bar-keeper said--
"I shall have to be stirring bright and early to-morrow morning."
"Why so?"
"We're out of sugar and lemons both. That Sub-Treasury runs on them'ere articles strong."
"Confound the Sub-Treasury!" Mr. Graves ejaculated, with a strongand bitter emphasis. Sandy stood again mute with astonishment,staring into the tavern-keeper's face.
"Sandy," Mr. Graves at length said in a calm, resolute tone, "mymind is made up to quit selling liquor."
"Quit selling liquor, sir!" exclaimed Sandy, more astonished thanever. "Quit selling liquor just at this time, when you have madesuch a hit?"
"Yes, Sandy, I'm going to quit it. I'm afraid that we rum-sellersare on the side of hell."
"I never once supposed that we were on the side of heaven," thebar-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 neveronce entered my head that we could claim much relationship withheaven. Heaven feeds the hungry and clothes the naked. But we takeaway both food and clothing, and give only drink. There is somelittle 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 ofthinking."
"Aint it the true way?"
"Perhaps so."
"I am sure so, Sandy! And that's what makes me say that I'm doneselling rum."
The tavern-keeper did not tell all that was in his mind. He saidnothing of his dream, nor of that horrible idea of going to therum-seller's hell, and becoming a devil, filled with the delight ofrendering mankind wretched by deluging the land with drunkenness.
"What are you going to do then?" asked Sandy.
"Why, the first thing is to quit rum-selling."
"But what then?"
"I'm not decided yet;--but shall enter into some kind of businessthat I can follow with a clear conscience."
"You'll sell out this stands I suppose. The goodwill is worth threeor four hundred dollars."
"No, Sandy, I will not!" was the tavern-keeper's positive, halfindignant reply. "I'll have nothing more to do with the gain ofrum-selling. I have too much of that sin on my conscience already."
"Somebody will come right in, as soon as you move out. And I don'tsee why you should give any one such an advantage for nothing."
"I'm not going to move out, Sandy."
"Then what are you going to do?"
"Why, one thing--I'm going to shut up this devil's man-trap. Andwhile I can keep possession of the property, it shall never beopened as a dram-shop again."
"What are you going to do with your liquors, Mr. Graves? Sell 'em?"
"No."
"What then?"
"Burn 'em. Or let 'em run in the gutter."
"That I should call a piece of folly."
"You may call it what you please. But I'll do it notwithstanding.I've received my last dollar for rum. Not another would I touch forall the world!"
A slight shudder passed through the tavern-keeper's body, as he saidthis, occasioned by the vivid recollection of some fearful passagein his late dream.
"You'd better give the liquors to me, Mr. Graves. It would be adownright sin to throw 'em in the gutter, when a fellow might make agood living out of 'em."
"No, Sandy. Neither you nor anybody else shall ever make a man drunkwith the liquor now in this house. It shall run in the gutter.That's settled!"
When the sun arose next morning, Harmony House was shorn of itsattractions as a drinking establishment. All the signs, with theirdeceptive and alluring devices, were taken down--the shuttersclosed, and everything indicating its late use removed, excepting astrong smell of liquor, great quantities of which had been pouredinto the gutters.
In the course of a few weeks, the house was again re-opened as ahatter-shop, Mr. Graves having resumed his former honest business,which he still follows, well patronized by the temperance men, amongwhom are Joseph Randolph, and William Riley, the former reclaimedthrough his active instrumentality.
THE END.
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