Part 18 (1/2)
”Not a bit of it. Some of the preliminaries, such as the prayers and hymns, will be over, but you'll be in time fer the fun; they'll be in no hurry.”
”Good. I'll go. Take care of my gear, will you, till I come back.”
With this Pritchen left the saloon and made his way over to the Indian village.
CHAPTER XIV
THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
The debate was well advanced when Pritchen entered the building. The rough benches were all filled, so he stood with his back to the door among several who were in a similar situation. The chairman of the meeting, Caribou Sol, was sitting at the farther end of the room before a small table. At his left sat Keith, by the side of the mission harmonium, which had been brought over from the church for this special occasion. A portion of the room behind the chairman was hidden by a bright coloured curtain. This was a source of wonder to the audience, and aroused in their minds various conjectures.
”That's where they keep the goat,” said one talkative fellow. ”Don't you see his horns?”
”No, but I hear him blat outside,” replied another, at which a general laugh ensued.
”But really,” continued the other, undisturbed by the merriment at his expense, ”there _is_ something behind that curtain. Joe, the kid, knows all about it, but he's as tight as a clam. He said the parson put it up at the last moment like greased lightning.”
”Maybe he keeps his thunder there,” laughed another. ”I understand he's dead set against whiskey, and has some hot bolts to hand out to-night. But say, here he comes, looking mighty pleased about something.”
At first the debate was conducted in a formal and orderly manner. The leaders in carefully prepared speeches opened up the subject, and received hearty applause. Gradually the men thawed out, the speaking became general, and in some cases regular harangues ensued, punctured by witty remarks from the listeners.
One of these had the floor when Pritchen arrived. He had been talking for some time about the evils of whiskey and the misery it caused to so many people.
”Think of the homes it has ruined,” he was saying; ”the young lives it has blighted; the prisons it is filling; the----”
”What about the snakes, Mickie?” came a voice from the audience.
”Sure, you're right there. I don't intind to leave the snakes out.
And say, Dave Groggan, did yer grandfather ever tell ye where the sarpents wint to whin Saint Patrick drove thim out of ould Ireland?”
”Into the sea, of course.”
”Ay, ay; into the sea, sure enough, the sea of Irish and all ither kinds of whiskey.”
”Did ye ever see them, Mickey?”
”See thim? Haven't I seen thim, and if you drink enough of the stuff ye'll see thim too.”
The laugh which followed this remark was silenced by the chairman rising to his feet. He rose slowly, and stood for a time with his hands upon the table. He was a man to be noticed in any company, with his tall, gigantic figure, thin gray hair, and long white beard. His faded eyes looked calmly over the heads of the men before him while waiting for the noise to subside.
”B'ys,” he began, ”I ain't used to makin' speeches, but I must say a few words to-night. Ye've talked about the miseries of war an'
whiskey. Ye've brought forth facts an' figures a-plenty, but ye don't seem to be in earnest.”
”What are ye giving us, Sol?” spoke up one.
”Ye may think what ye like, but if you'd been through the furnace as I have ye'd not make so many jokes about whiskey. Ye'd speak from yer hearts, an' then ye'd be in earnest, never fear. Look at me, b'ys, the oldest man here, an' when I heered one young chap boast that to drink moderately was no harm, I trembled fer 'im. I thought so too once, an'
I said so to Annie, my wife, G.o.d bless her. I can't make a long speech in eloquent words, but I jist want to show yez a page from an old man's life.”