Crime -- England -- London -- History -- 19th century; London (England) -- Moral conditions; London (England) -- Social conditions
If such contemptible twaddle enters very largely into the educational
nourishment provided for the young abstainer, we may tremble for the next
generation of our beer-imbibing species. It appears, moreover, that
those doughty juveniles, when they are well trained, will fearlessly
tackle the enemy, alcohol, even when he is found fortified within an
adult being; and very often with an amount of success that seems _almost_
incredible. However, the veracious little book of temperance anecdotes
vouches for it, and no more can be said. Here following is an affecting
instance of how, “once upon a time,” a band of small teetotal female
infants were the means of converting from the error of his ways a
full-blown drunkard:
“We used to furnish little boys and girls with pledge-books and
pencils, and thus equipped, they got us numerous signatures. A man
was leaning, much intoxicated, against a tree. Some little girls
coming from school saw him there, and at once said to each other,
‘What shall we do for him?’ Presently one said, ‘O, I’ll tell you:
let’s sing him a temperance song.’ And so they did. They collected
round him, and struck up, ‘Away, away with the bowl!’ And so on, in
beautiful tones. The poor drunkard liked it, and so would you.
‘Sing again, my little girls,’ said he. ‘We will,’ said they, ‘if
you will sign the temperance pledge.’ ‘No, no,’ said he, ‘we are not
at a temperance meeting; besides, you’ve no pledges with you.’ ‘Yes,
we have, and pencils too;’ and they held them up to him. ‘No, no, I
won’t sign now; but do sing to me!’ So they sang again, ‘The drink
that’s in the drunkard’s bowl is not the drink for me.’ ‘O, do sing
again!’ he said. But they were firm this time, and declared they
would go away if he did not sign. ‘But,’ said the poor fellow,
striving to find an excuse, ‘you’ve no table. How can I write
without a table?’ At this one quiet, modest, pretty little creature
came up timidly, with one finger on her lips, and said, ‘You can
write upon your hat, while we hold it for you.’ The man signed; and
he narrated these facts before 1,500 children, saying, ‘Thank God for
those children!—they came to me as messengers of mercy.’”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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