p. 270 | Not Poverty but Beer

Pacific Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Oakland, California · Sep 4, 1879

Not Poverty but Beer.

"It's no use to say any more about it. There are four children younger than I am, and father says I've had my share of schooling. We're all boys, and we wear out clothes awful fast; mother's always mending, but father complains because she calls for new things so often. It seemed to me I couldn't and wouldn't go into that horrid old mill; but I've made up my mind to it, and the sooner I begin the better. I wish father wasn't so poor."

"I heard somebody say your father earned first-rate wages," responded Milton Holmes, to whom the above explanations and complaints were made.

"I know he does," was replied. "He earns more than any other man in the shop, but he says it takes every cent of his money to pay the bills. I've thought it over and over a good many times, and I can't understand it."

At that moment a scrap of printed paper drifted to the speaker's feet, and, without purpose in what he was doing, he took it from the ground and smoothed it listlessly until these words arrested his attention: "It is not poverty but beer which robs our children of knowledge." He read it again and again, while a new light dawned upon his mind. At length he gave the paper to his companion, who asked quickly:—

"Does your father drink beer?"

"Yes; lots of it," answered Nathan Wilson.

"Does he chew tobacco?"

"Lots of it. I heard mother tell him this morning that she could support the family on the money he spends for what does him more hurt than good. I couldn't think what she meant, but I guess I know now."

"I guess you do. Beer and tobacco cost more than bread. I've heard a good many say that, and I've promised my mother never to taste such stuff."

"Nobody ever asked me to promise. Wasn't it strange, though, that that paper should happen along here just now? I wonder how it escaped the rag-pickers."

"So do I. What wretched work theirs is! I should rather do anything else than grub around the streets as they do. See that old woman. There's a heap of rubbish waiting for her. Let us watch and see what she finds. We can sit down on that pile of bricks, and she won't know we're thinking anything about her."

So saying, Milton Holmes walked toward the place indicated, while his schoolmate walked by his side thoughtfully, sadly, and it must be confessed with something like anger in the heart which beat so tumultuously.

"Don't take it so hard," he said kindly, when they were fairly seated. "Mother says there's 'most always a way out of trouble, if you only go to work at it patiently and with a good will."

"Your mother has not seen so much trouble as I have. If she had, she would know better than to say that. There's trouble in the world that patience and hard work don't touch."

These words startled the boys, who had forgotten that the old rag-picker was so near as to hear any remarks they might make.

"Have you had a good deal of trouble?" asked Nathan, springing to his feet.

"Yes, I have, though it is not often I say anything about it. There were four in my family, and three of them were drunkards. Don't you think that would make trouble enough for the fourth one?"

"Yes, ma'am, I know it would. Was that what makes you so poor?"

"Yes, just that and nothing else, and it's what makes other folks poor. I had two boys, and when they were no larger than you be I thought they were the smartest boys anywhere round; but they're gone."

"Where?"

"I don't know; I wish I did, though likely it is not best I should. Do you ever drink any kind of liquor?"

"Not a drop," answered Milton Holmes.

"Do you?" she continued, turning to Nathan Wilson.

"Is beer liquor?" he asked in response.

"Yes, it is, and that's what begins the trouble. My boys begun with it, and finished with—but I don't know as they've finished yet."

"Sit down and rest a minute," said Nathan, pitying the woman. "You must be dreadful tired."

"I don't know as I am. My body's got so it keeps going without being tired, but it hurts in here," and she pressed her hand to her heart with a quick, convulsive motion, while her face grew deathly pale.

Thus she was forced to drop the implements of her trade and accept the proffered seat, where she rested for a few minutes.

"Have you got any home?" asked Milton, as she reached down for her sack and hook.

"I've got a place where I stay," she replied. "It's better than some have, but it isn't home. I've been cold and hungry a good many times, and I expect to be a good many times more, but thank God I hadn't any little children to starve with me. Don't taste of beer, boys. Don't, for your souls' sakes. Don't begin on the wrong track. I didn't expect to come to this. Don't you suppose I hate the dirt and garbage? There couldn't anybody hate it worse. But there were three drunkards in my family, and they dragged down the fourth one. Don't forget what I've told you."

A moment more, and this woman seemed intent only upon the rubbish before her, and with lingering gaze the boys bade her a silent farewell.

Half an hour later Nathan Wilson entered the room where his mother was at work, holding in his hand a scrap of paper, while his flushed face and tightly compressed lips betrayed the excitement he did not care to conceal.

"I've found out all about it, and it's a shame for father to spend his money as he does. He needn't tell me I must go to work, so to give the other children a chance. If I go into that greasy old mill, it will be because father cares more for beer and tobacco than he does for me. He earns enough to keep us all."

"Why, Nathan, what is the matter with you? I never heard you talk so before."

"I didn't know enough to. Now my eyes are opened, and they won't shut again very soon. Hear this, mother." And the boy read aloud the words which had so deeply impressed him, "that's the truth, and the whole truth," he added emphatically. "I'm going to print it in large German text, and hang it opposite my bed, where I can see it every day of my life; and another thing, I never'll taste a drop of beer, nor let either of my brothers, if I can help it. I won't use tobacco, either, and when I can have my own wages I'll save a part of every dollar I earn, you see if I don't."

"I hope you will," answered Mrs. Wilson in a husky voice, as she brushed a tear from her eye.

For the remainder of the day Nathan occupied himself with printing, finishing the last letter just as the waning light warned him that night was at hand. In his haste he had omitted some ornamental lines, but this did not matter to himself or to those who watched every movement of his pen.

That evening he did not speak to his father. Indeed, the household was strangely quiet, and as Mr. Wilson looked around upon his boys he wondered at their unusual silence. He had engaged work for Nathan, but he hesitated to speak of it. Something in his son's face troubled him; obliged to tell of the arrangements he had made. Even then no word was spoken in reply, although some significant glances greatly annoyed him. Before the day closed, a remonstrance from Nathan's teacher increased his annoyance; but all this did not change his purpose or his manner of living. His habits were firmly established. His course was steadily downward, while his children, one after another, were taken from school to earn a scanty pittance, because he had squandered a fortune upon the gratification of his depraved appetites.

He taught his boys no lessons of temperance or frugality. Yet as they grew to manhood people marveled at their integrity and thrift. A scrap of paper drifting through the city streets had done more and better for them than he who was responsible for their existence in the world where the destinies of children are largely dependent upon their parents.

Soiled and discolored grew the talismanic words, yet they retained their conspicuous position until transferred to a new home where life is ordered after higher standards.

In any city or large manufacturing town where men find constant employment, if you will take the trouble to trace to their homes the children who attend school only the limited time prescribed by law, you will find in nearly every instance where the father is living that he spends for tobacco and beer, or stronger liquors, a large proportion of his own earnings.

The children of our country have a right to happy homes and the advantages of education, and every plea for total abstinence from all which can intoxicate is a plea for these rights, sacred and inalienable as is the liberty of which we boast.—M. D. C., in National Temperance Advocate.