Come on, cut out the booze, boys. Get on the water wagon; get on for the sake of your wife and babies, and hit the booze a blow. Come on, ready, forward, march! Right, left, halt! We are in front of a dry goods store. "What do you want?" "Calico." "What do you want?" "Calico." "What do you want?" "Calico." "Calico; all right, come on." The stores are stripped. Marshall Field, Carson, Pirie, Scott & Co., J. V. Farrell, send down calico. The whole bunch has voted out the saloons and we have such a demand for calico we don't know what to do. And the big stores telegraph to Fall River to ship calico, and the factories telegraph to buy cotton, and they tell their salesmen to buy cotton, and the cotton plantation man sees cotton jump up to $150 a bale. What is the matter? Your children are going naked and the whisky gang has got your money. That's what's the matter with you. Don't listen to those old whisky-soaked politicians who say "stand pat on the saloon." Come with me. Now, remember, we have the whole bunch of booze fighters on the water wagon, and I'm going home now. Over there I was John, the drunken bum. The whisky gang got my dollar and I got the quart. Over here I am John on the water wagon. The merchant got my dollar and I have his meat, flour and calico, and I'm going home now. "Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home without booze." Wife comes out and says, "Hello, John, what have you got?" "Two porterhouse steaks, Sally." "What's that bundle, Pa?" "Clothes to make you a new dress, Sis. Your mother has fixed your old one so often, it looks like a crazy quilt." "And what have you there?" "That's a pair of shoes for you, Tom; and here is some cloth to make you a pair of pants. Your mother has patched the old ones so often, they look like the map of United States." What's the matter with the country? We have been dumping into the whisky hole the money that ought to have been spent for flour, beef and calico, and we haven't the hole filled up yet. A man comes along and says: "Are you a drunkard?" "Yes, I'm a drunkard." "Where are you going?" "I am going to hell." "Why?" "Because the Good Book says: 'No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God,' so I am going to hell." Another man comes along and I say: "Are you a church member?" "Yes, I am a church member." "Where are you going?" "I am going to heaven." "Did you vote for the saloon?" "Yes." "Then you shall go to hell."