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Updated: June 15, 2025
But nobody in whom she was vitally interested seemed in danger of acquiring the habit of using liquor just because Lem Parraday sold it. The ladies of the sewing society of the Union Church missed "Marm" Parraday's brown face and vigorous tongue. It was said that she strongly disapproved of the change at the Inn, but Lem had overruled her for once.
Cross Moore in a vulnerable part. Had the Summer visitors to Polktown been voters, there would have been little doubt of the Town Meeting voting the hamlet "dry." But there seemed to be a large number of men determined not to have their liberties, so-called, interfered with. Lem Parraday's bar had become a noisy place. Some fights had occurred in the horse sheds, too.
Lots of people in the town see the evil flowing from the bar. Mrs. Thread tells me her brother would never have lost his job with Massey if it hadn't been for Lem Parraday's rum selling." "Do you mean Jack Besmith?" cried Janice, startled. "That's the chap. Mrs. Thread is a decent little woman, and poor Benny is harmless enough. But she is worried to death about her brother."
Still, what can ye expect of the young gals when their mothers are given up to folly and dissipation? "There's Mrs. Marvin Petrie and Mrs. Major Price want to be 'patronesses, I believe they call themselves, of an Assembly Ball, an' want to hold the ball at Lem Parraday's hotel. It's bad enough to have them dances; but to have 'em at a place where liquor is sold, is a sin and a shame!
Save at times when he had to deliver freight or express to the hotel, the village expressman had very little business to take him near Lem Parraday's bar nowadays. However, because of that secret between Janice and himself, Walky approached the Inn one evening with the avowed purpose of speaking to Joe Bodley.
"It certainly is," agreed Frank Bowman. "But whether Hopewell Drugg is finally injured in character by Lem Parraday's bar or not, enough other people are being injured. You said you'd do anything to see it closed." "I would," cried Janice. "At least, anything I could do." "By jove! so would I!" exclaimed Frank Bowman, vigorously. "It was pay night for my men last Saturday night.
Ask her. She will tell you that my violin courted her not Hopewell Drugg." "Oh, it is too, too bad!" cried Janice. "And that fellow down at Lem Parraday's hotel has never succeeded in disposing of the fiddle. I wish he would sell it back to you." "I could not buy it at the price he gave me for it," said Hopewell, sadly shaking his head. "No use to think of it."
At the conclusion of the story, as Marty was pumping a pail of water for the kitchen shelf, Walky said: "Gimme a dipper o' that, boy. My mouth's so dry I can't speak the trewth. That's it thanky!" "Ye oughtn't to be dry, Walky comin' right past Lem Parraday's ho-tel," remarked Mr. Day, with a chuckle. "Wal, naow! that's what I was goin' ter speak abeout," said Walky, with sudden vigor.
See how Walky Dexter was to-night." "Yep." "Everything that's gone wrong lately is the fault of Lem Parraday's bar." "Huh! I wonder?" questioned Marty. "Guess Nelse Haley won't lay his trouble to liquor drinking." "No? I wonder " "Here's the library building, Janice," interrupted the boy. "Want me to go any further with you?" "No, dear," she said, taking the bag from him.
She broke off suddenly and, without looking again at Janice, mounted the steps with her broom and disappeared inside the house. Janice, heartsick and almost in tears, was turning away when a figure appeared from around the corner of the tavern from the direction of the bar-room, in fact. But Frank Bowman's smiling, ruddy face displayed no sign of his having sampled Lem Parraday's bar goods.
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