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Temperance in the Home

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jan 16, 1908

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 85, No. 3.

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Temperance in the Home

By Augusta C. Bainbridge

AUGUSTA C. BAINBRIDGE
“Pass the zwieback, Nellie, please,” said Mama Gray.
“Why do you eat so much zwieback, mama?”
“There, now, I suppose I must ‘fess,” as you used to say. Being careless, and often hurried, I have formed the bad habit of eating too fast, and now I want to reform and establish the good habit of eating slowly. Zwieback really must be chewed, even if it does make a noise; and it helps me to remember.”
“But it is so dry,” said Nellie.
“See here, sis,” said Joe, as he lifted his glass of water, and took a full swallow, “that takes care of it all.”
“But water is cold, and takes all the nice taste of my dinner out of my mouth,” said Nellie.
“Well, take a little wine or beer. Many people do, and claim it is for their health, that it even aids digestion,” said papa.
“I wonder if it does. Pass the beer, mama,” said the irrepressible Joe. That brought a laugh all around, which certainly helped digestion, even if the beer was lacking.
“You have been studying physiology at school, Joe. What are the organs of digestion?”
“Stomach, liver, pancreas, and intestines,” said Joe.
“Salivary glands, first of all,” said mama.
“Yes, sure,” smiled Joe, as he chewed hard on the zwieback, while the family wondered if it would be wise to adopt this food as a part of the daily menu in view of such a noise as it would create.
“Then the first part of digestion is mastication, and insalivation. You could grind up your food and mix a little water with it, and swallow it quite easily. But that would not prepare it for the next step; for water is not saliva. To be ready for the stomach, the food must be well mixed with saliva. Anything that would hinder the flow of saliva would hinder the first step in digestion. Now Joe, here is where your beer and wine do their first damage. They paralyze the nerves that control this flow, and the mouth feels dry. More liquid is wanted because the natural supply is cut off, and more beer or wine or water is used.”
“Then the more you use, the more you hinder the very thing you ought to help,” said Joe.
“Exactly so,” said papa. “Nellie, run up stairs and get your new hat, I shall want it in a moment,” he added.
“Now, Joe, where next does the food go?” said mama.
“Into the stomach.”
“Yes,” said papa. “Hold it up, Nellie, I want all of you to see that pink velvet ribbon,” as Nellie came in with the dainty piece of millinery in her hand. “That is a very good representation of the lining of a healthy stomach. It is a pink, velvety membrane, and when food is introduced, white, pearly spots like pin-heads appear in the nap of the velvet. That is the gastric juice; and it continues the work of digestion.”
“What harm does alcohol do here?” said Nellie.
“Taken when there is no food in the stomach, it inflames the pretty, velvety lining, causing red spots and lines to appear on its surface. It looks something as your eye does when you get a grain of sand in it.”
“Bloodshot,” supplied Joe.
“Yes, that is it, and if that condition is continued, intense inflammation and ulceration follow. If food is taken, it sours and decays, instead of digesting.”
“Well, I think I’d rather chew,” said mama.
“Yes, indeed,” said Nellie, “even if it was zwieback I was chewing. I’d rather be in danger of arrest for disturbing the peace than to have such an interior department as that.”
“Wherever alcohol comes in contact with any of the glands that secrete digestive juices, it paralyzes them, wholly or in part. It is not digested, but passes on through the alimentary canal doing its deadly work.”
“How does it affect the liver, papa?”
“The liver, you know, is a sort of filter. It strains the impurities from the blood. Next to the stomach, it suffers most from the use of alcohol, which not only disturbs its action, but produces in it a fatty degeneration that seriously interferes with its functions.”
“Then I should think that people who drink liquor either moderately or in excess, would weaken their vital organs?” said Joe, looking serious, and quite interested.
“Indeed they do. What were you reading about that a few evenings ago, mama?” said Mr. Gray.
“In all countries and climates, it has been proved that total abstainers live longer, and are less affected by epidemics and other diseases than drinkers, either moderate or excessive.”
“All right! What do you say, sis? ‘Away, away the bowl’? I will, will you?”
“To be sure, I will; no alcoholics for me.”
San Francisco, Cal.