“And now some of you blue-star guys is probably hittin’ a question that sooner or later knocks at the nuts of most of us chaps that’s trying to make good all over again. That’s families. Say, ain’t families the deuce? You may run like a hare, or climb like a squirrel, or light away like a skeeter—and your family’ll be at your heels. It’s somethin’ fierce. You can never get away from them; they’ll never let you get away from them. Because”—his voice fell to a tone of solemnity—“because no matter how fast you sprint, or how high you climb, or how graceful you can dodge—you carries your family with you. You can no more turn your back on it than you can on your own stummick. You may refuse to pervide for it, you may treat it cruel, you may leave it to look out for itself; but you can never git away from knowin’ in your heart that if you’re a bum husband or father or son you’re considerable more bum as a man. That’s why the family is after us. Can’t shake ’em off! Got ’em where they won’t be shook off. God A’mighty Hisself put ’em there, and, oh, boys, listen to me and I’ll tell you why.” He made dabs at his wrists as though to turn up his sleeves, like a man warming to his work. Taking a step or two forward he braced his left hand on his barrel-shaped hip, while his gigantic forefinger was pointed dramatically toward his audience. “Say, did any of you married guys ever wish to God you was single again? Sure you did! Was any of you chaps with two or three little kids to feed ever sorry for the day when he heard the first of his young ones cry? Surest thing you know! Did any of us with a father and a mother, with brothers and sisters, too, very likely, ever kick because we hadn’t been born an orphan and an only child? You bet your sweet life we did! The drinkin’ man don’t want no hangers-on. He wants to be free. Life ain’t worth a burnt match to him when he’s got other people to think of, and a home to keep up, and can’t spend every penny on hisself. Some of us here to-night has cursed our wives; some of us has beat our children; some of us has cut out father and mother as if they’d never done nothin’ for us, and we could cast off from ’em with no more conscience than a tug’ll cast off from a liner.