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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Oh, no, sir," Duncan parroted glibly: "don't smoke, drink, swear, and on Sundays I go to church." The bland smile with which he faced Lockwood's keen scrutiny disarmed suspicion. "I'm glad to hear that," Blinky told him. "I'm at the head of the temp'rance movement here, and I hope you'll join us, and set an example to our fast young men." "I feel sure I could do that," said Duncan meekly.
"Go on, Maw, and tell us," said Marty. "What did he say?" and he grinned delightedly at his cousin's rosy face. "Sing her praises, Mrs. Day do," urged Nelson. "We know she deserves to have them sung." "Wal! I should say she did," agreed Aunt 'Mira, proudly. "It's her, the parson says, that's re'lly at the back of this temp'rance movement that's goin' ter be inaugurated right here in Polktown.
Arsk 'im to shut up 'is brewery an' sell no more ale wi' pizon in't to the poor! That'll do more for Temp'rance than the early closin' o' the 'Trusty Man." "Ye're right enough," said Matt Peke, who had refrained from taking any part in the conversation, save by now and then whispering a side comment to Helmsley.
Verily, Backley was going to add one to the roll of modest villages made famous by unusual occurrences. "I 'spose, Mr. Chairman," continued Joe Digg, "that the pint of temp'rance meetin's is to stop drunkenness, an' as I'm about the only fully developed drunkard in town, I'm most likely to know what this meetin's 'mounted to."
I'm a sober man, not a temperance man!" "Ay! We'd a parzon in these 'ere parts as was temp'rance, but 'e took 'is zpirits different like! 'E zkorned 'is glass, but 'e loved 'is gel! Har ar ar! Ivir 'eerd o' Parzon Arbroath as woz put out o' the Church for 'avin' a fav'rite?" "I saw something about it in the papers," said Helmsley. "Ay, 'twoz in the papers. Har ar ar! 'E woz a temp'rance man.
"Yes niece by marriage." "The one he used to talk so much about? What was her name Patience Temp'rance " "Thankful that's my name. I presume likely Uncle Abner did use to talk about me. He always declared he thought as much of me as if I was his own child." There was an interval of silence. Mr. Cobb replaced his spectacles and stared through them at his visitor.
An' they bribes their poor silly voters wi' their drink till they'se like a flock o' sheep runnin' into wotever field o' politics their shepherds drives 'em. The best way to make the temp'rance cause pop'lar is to stop big brewin'. Let every ale'ouse 'ave its own pertikler brew, an' m'appen we'll git some o' the old-fashioned malt an' 'ops agin.
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