thread-bare clothes, and looking as hard as if he had not seen a sober
day for a month, came in with a little package in his hand. Tremblingly
he unwrapped it, and handed the articles to the pawnbroker, saying,
'Give me ten cents.' And, boys, what do you suppose that package was?
A pair of baby's shoes; little things with the buttons only a trifle soiled,
as if they had been worn once or twice. 'Where did you get them?'
asked the pawnbroker. 'Got 'em at home,' replied the man, who had
an intelligent face and the manner of a gentleman, despite his sad
condition. 'My wife bought 'em for our baby. Give me ten cents for
'em. I want a drink.' 'You had better take those back to your wife; the
baby will need them,' said the pawnbroker. 'No, she won't..She's
lying at home now; she died last night.' As he said this the poor
fellow broke down, bowed his head on the showcase, and cried
like a child. 'Boys,' said the drummer, 'you can laugh if you want
to, but I have a baby of my own at home, and by the help of God
I'll never drink another drop.'" The man went into another car, the
bottle had disappeared, and the boys pretended to read some papers
that lay scattered about the car. Ah, this is only one out of hundreds
of such scenes that are being enacted every day in our saloon-cursed
cities.

We should study the drink evil to see how it makes people poor and
keeps them poor. A story is told of a drinking man who related to
his family a dream that he had had the night before. He dreamed
that he saw three cats, a fat one, a lean one, and a blind one; and he
was anxious to know what it meant that he should have such a
strange dream. Quickly his little boy answered, "I can tell what it
means. The fat cat is the saloon-keeper who sells you drink, the
lean cat is mother and me, and the blind cat is yourself." "In one
of our large cities," one day, "a laboring man, leaving a saloon,