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Updated: May 18, 2025
"We boarded with a snuff-brown lady named Chica, who kept a rum-shop and a ladies' and gents' restaurant in a street called the calle de los Forty-seven Inconsolable Saints. When our credit played out there, Liverpool, whose stomach overshadowed his sensations of noblesse oblige, married Chica.
At the post-office, the tin-shop and the rum-shop the Deacon's conversion is constantly discussed, and men of all degrees now express a belief in the mighty power of the Spirit from on high. Other moneyed men have been smitten and changed, and the pastor of the Pawkin Centre Church daily thanks the Lord for such a revival as he never heard of before. Good? He was the model boy of Bungfield.
He never looked twice at it when he got ashore. He hasn't seen it since he handed it to me on the dock. The boys might like to look at it, he said. He's forgot he ever won it by now. He let us take it up to a rum-shop and drink out of it the same as if it was a tin-pail the beautiful gold and silver cup engraved.
If you think so, you don't know me yet; for I can tell you it would have been given to them two hours ago, and not saved for one who allows his own flesh and blood to starve, while he spends that which would furnish them with bread for rum in a rum-shop."
Every lady who walks the street has to run the gauntlet of their insolent glances, and not unfrequently to hear their vulgar and offensive criticisms on her personal appearance; and every gentleman whose business calls him into Broadway of a pleasant day, has seen these persons grouped on the corner leisurely surveying the passers-by, or gathered into a little knot before some favorite rum-shop, discussing what is, to them, the absorbing topic of the day—probably the “good strike” Blobbsby made, “fighting the tiger,” the night before; the “heavy run” a favorite billiard-player made on a certain occasion, or the respective chances of success of the two distinguished gentlemen who may chance at that time to be in training with a view of battering each other’s heads until one concedes his claim to the brutal “honors” of the prize ring.
"The few dimes I had in my pocket soon went where so many dollars of my yes, even your humble earnings have gone before in the coffers of the rum-shop. "The liquor I drank seemed to fire my brain as it had never been fired before.
It was a superb tableau: the ice split, and the sun rose and joggled at once to the zenith. The act-drop fell, and male Denver, wrung to its religious deeps, went out to the rum-shop. Of course Mr. McLean and his party did not do this.
I don't know three people in St. John's." "Guess I met one of the three, then." "Where? How? Who was it?" Bijonah Tanner coughed and shifted uneasily in his chair. "Wal," he said, "I was takin' a little turn along the water-front, just a leetle turn, as the wife will tell you, when I dropped into a er that is a rum-shop and heard three men at the table next to mine talking about you."
She continued: "Eben says there was a fellow named Weasel that hid close by, an' heerd all 'twas said, and when he went to the rum-shop an' told the miners, they hooray'd for Jim ez ef they wuz mad. Just like them crazy fellers they hain't no idee when money's wasted." "The Lord waste all the money in the world that way!" devoutly exclaimed the deacon.
I went out and stood under the stars, and thanked God that I was born. Only tramps! It had been dinned into my ears until I said it myself, God forgive me! Aye, that was what we had made of them with our infernal machinery of rum-shop, tenement, dive, and this place. With Christian charity instead, what might they not have been?
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