Here is the motive: The drink murders our sons, and do not allow them to grow to be healthy, brave, strong men. The greatest enemy of woman and her offspring and her virtue is the licensed hellholes or saloons. 13. "That our garners may be full of all manner of store." Our grain is used to poison; our bread-stuff is turned to the venom of asps and the bread winner is burdened with disease of drunkeness, where health should be the result, of raising that which, when rotted and made into alcohol, perpetrates ruin and death; Our garners or grain houses are spoiled or robbed. 14. "That there be no breaking in or going out; that there be no complaining in our street." What is it causing the breaking into jails, prisons, asylums, penitentiaries, alms-houses? The going out of the homes, of hearts; going out into the cold; going into drunkard's graves and a drunkard's hell? "Complaining in our streets." Oh! the cold and hungry little children! Oh! the weeping wives and mothers! Oh! the misery and desolation of the drunkards! All from this drink of sorrow and death. 15. "Happy is that people that is in such a case; yea, happy is that people whose God is the Lord." "People whose God is the Lord," will not allow this evil. They will smash it out in one way or another. This blessed word was a "light to my feet and a lamp to my pathway." I rejoiced for the comfort it gave me; for the Lord truly talked to my soul while I read and reread this. I must say that "Little Dodds," the turnkey as I called him, was often kind to me, but he was completely the servant of Simmons and his wife. Once Mr. Dodds asked me if I would leave the jail; that Sam Amidon would bring a hack to the back door of the jail and he, Mr. Dodds, and his wife, would go with me to Kansas City. John, the Dutch trusty, said to me one day: "There is something in the wind; people are coming and going and talking to Dodds." Mr. Dodds was supposed to be quarantined in the jail, but he went in and out of the office and he would also go to his home; the prisoners saw him from the window time and time again. It was agony to hear the ravings night and day of the poor old maniac. He would frequently fall on his iron bed and floor. He was a large man of about sixty years of age or over. He was helpless; but had no one to take care of him, but John, the trusty, who for the sake of mercy, would give him some attention. The sanitary condition of his cell must have been something horrible, from the smell that came into my room. One night the poor lunatic fell so hard on the floor, or bed that he lay as one dead, for some time. The jailer and others were aroused and before they dare have a physician come in, they had to scrub and clean the cell. Then Dr. Jordan came, and the old man was finally brought to life. This doctor was in the conspiracy to have me adjudged insane; A woman fifty-five years old, who never broke a statute of Kansas.