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"Give us a snack, Jim," he said, setting down the cup. "I'm dead beat, and haven't had a mouthful since morning." "Sure," returned the saloonkeeper. "There are some beans in the pan, and I'll make you a cup of tea." "Where's your game, Bill?" asked one of the men, looking up from his cards. "Out on the hill, where they'll stay for all I care." "Why, I thought you were out hunting." "So I was."
Then I confess I could stand no more, and said, 'You ought to be prosecuted for violating the midnight closing law. At this the saloonkeeper and policemen rushed upon me and put me into the street; and one of the policemen, grasping my arm like a vice, hissed in my ear, 'I'll get you a thirty days' sentence in the workhouse, and then we'll see what you think about suing people. He called a patrol wagon, pushed me in, and drove to jail; and, Judge, you know the rest.
Caraher appeared at the door of his place, his red face, red beard, and flaming cravat standing sharply out from the shadow of the doorway. He called a welcome to Dyke. "Hello, Captain." Dyke looked up, nodding his head listlessly. "Hello, Caraher," he answered. "Well," continued the saloonkeeper, coming forward a step, "what's the news in town?" Dyke told him.
The saloonkeeper gazed at him, with his haggard white face and his blue trembling lips. Then he pushed a big bottle toward him. "Fill her up!" he said. Jurgis could hardly hold the bottle, his hands shook so. "Don't be afraid," said the saloonkeeper, "fill her up!" So Jurgis drank a large glass of whisky, and then turned to the lunch counter, in obedience to the other's suggestion.
Damn you, you don't!" Before the astonished saloonkeeper could recover himself and formulate the angry retort which rose to his lips, Charlie staggered out of the place. It was growing dark. Away in the west a pale stream of light was fading smoothly out, absorbed by the velvet softness of the summer night. There was no moon, but the starlit vault shone dazzlingly upon the shadowed valley.
The situation was not at all new to Miss Farwell. Her profession placed her constantly in touch with such ministries. She remembered a saloonkeeper who had contributed liberally to the funeral expenses of a child who had been killed by its drunken father. The young woman had never before spoken, in such cruel anger. Was she growing bitter? She wondered.
Clear-eyed, from her childhood days with the saloonkeeper Cady and Cady's good-natured but unmoral spouse, she had observed, and, later, generalized much upon sex. She knew the post-nuptial problem of retaining a husband's love, as few wives of any class knew it, just as she knew the pre-nuptial problem of selecting a husband, as few girls of the working class knew it.
Upon receipt of a "grapevine" signal that officers were approaching, the entire stock of liquids would disappear and when the officers arrived the saloonkeeper would be at work in the fields of his farm. The nearest state-line saloon to Pall Mall was seven miles by the road and but little over half the distance by paths on the mountains.
It is a disgraceful fact that the liquor-traffic rules in politics to-day. A saloonkeeper in Richmond, Virginia, overheard some one talking of reform in municipal politics, when he scornfully said: "Any bar-room in Richmond is a bigger man in politics than all the Churches in Richmond put together."
While taking the drink, the old man was lamenting his poverty, which kept him from betting more money, and after we had gone outside, the saloonkeeper came and said to him, in a burst of generous feeling, "Old sport, you're a stranger to me, but I can see at a glance that you're a dead game man.
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