saloon is next door to hell, and these are the ones we read about in the Bible, who "strain at a gnat and swallow a camel." That is to say, in those days when Christ was on earth, there were some people so peculiarly constituted that they strained at a gnat and swallowed a camel; but we live in an age of improvement, an age in which some people strain at a gnat, and swallow a Jumbo with perfect ease and in the most graceful manner. I know an advocate of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union, who often dances all night, most _gracefully_, and in the morning she turneth up her little nose, just as _gracefully_ as the elephant turneth up his snout when Peck's bad boy has thrown him a piece of tobacco, _at the awful drinking saloon and saloon keepers_. The private parlor dance is the beginning, the first depot on the great air-line route from this world to the city of destruction; here the boys and men are drawn into the coaches by the general passenger agents: the MOTHERS, WIVES, DAUGHTERS, SISTERS and SWEETHEARTS. This line is advertised as the finest and best equipped road beneath the sun. Fine sleepers; all the way through, without change. Special guarantee against accidents. This road is laid with smooth, glass rails, and the wheels are made of India rubber. Drinking saloons, beer gardens, and some other places I'll not mention, are the wood yards and tanks, where fuel and water is procured which gets up the steam that draws the train with increasing velocity down to the great city of destruction. When the train stops for wood and water, all the passengers are expected to take part in the very interesting and social performance. But here are same boys who beg to be excused. "Can't excuse you," cries the brakesman. "Come along, you can take a small _stick_ in the way of a cigar;" and so these boys, not wishing to appear ugly and incur the ill will of the brakesman, walk into a saloon for the first time. They first take a cigar, but soon the brakesman (an old stager) laughs them to scorn and confusion, and not being able to stand the fire, they throw down the cigar and take their _first drink in a drinking saloon_. After the drinks have been repeated a few times, one of the brakesmen, well under the influence of whiskey or wine, takes a careful look at all present, and if satisfied there is no relative or sweetheart in hearing, he then and there tells an _anecdote_ on one of the nice girls or married ladies with whom they have been dancing, that certainly would bring the blush of shame to the cheeks of the blackest devil that inhabits the world of outer darkness. The drink, and anecdotes of the same character, _only worse, if possible_, are repeated until interrupted by the appearance of a half-witted looking young man, entering from a back door, who seems to have something of great importance to tell the bartender. He talks low, but sufficiently loud to be heard by the boys, for it is really for their ears.