“The organizations, political, commercial, religious, that seek to shape public opinion all use propaganda. We all know what that means because we have all had such a surfeit of it. During the War we were flooded with it and everyone learned what it was and how to use it. It is put out by speakers, on the movie screens and in print wherever possible. Organization secured Prohibition, but organization is not public opinion and may for a time override it. Organization works on the run with noise and big headlines and meetings and even with threats. Public opinion slowly takes form in the minds of individuals. There comes in Lincoln’s saying about the impossibility of fooling all the people all the time. Propaganda may overwhelm private judgment for a time, but private judgment keeps on working after propaganda ceases. It digests what has been offered to it. The common facts of life continue to appeal to it and impress it. It views what propaganda has accomplished and slowly and deliberately considers whether it is good, and if it concludes that it is not good it ceases to back it and then there has to be something different, something that looks like improvement....” CHAPTER XIII HOW CANADA HAS SOLVED THE LIQUOR PROBLEM Sing a Song of Montreal, A barrel full of rye; Four-and-twenty Yankees Feeling rather dry; When the barrel was opened They all began to sing, “Oh, to hell with Mr. Volstead-- And God save the King!” The Dominion of Canada has solved its liquor problem, for the most part. It is interesting to note that in those Provinces which are technically dry, a wretched state of things exists, as in the United States; and those Provinces which have government control are well ordered. For instance, Nova Scotia has absolute Prohibition. I went there in May and June, 1922, and, as in the States, I never lacked for a drink when I desired one. Practically every chemist is a bootlegger. To show you how badly the system works, let me tell of a personal experience. I found myself one week-end in a little village which shall be nameless. I inquired of the inn-keeper if it would be possible to obtain a bottle of whiskey. “Certainly,” he said. “Simply go to the drug-store, tell him you are a guest of mine, and I think you will have no difficulty in getting a good brand.” I was surprised, to say the least. It chanced to be a Sunday morning. The church bells were ringing, and as I got to the door of the shop, the druggist was just leaving it--he lived above it, I believe--for morning service. I told him my errand; and immediately, without the slightest hesitation, he opened the door, took me in, and sold me what I wished. He hadn’t the slightest idea who I was; yet perhaps it was evident that I was an American traveler. No questions were asked, and openly I carried my bottle through the streets back to the inn.