self-sacrifice.


CHAPTER V

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE


Thursday morning found Craig anxious, even gloomy, but with fight
in every line of his face. I tried to cheer him in my clumsy way by
chaffing him about his League. But he did not blaze up as he often did.
It was a thing too near his heart for that. He only shrank a little from
my stupid chaff and said--

'Don't, old chap; this is a good deal to me. I've tried for two years to
get this, and if it falls through now, I shall find it hard to bear.'

Then I repented my light words and said, 'Why! the thing will go sure
enough: after that scene in the church they won't go back.'

'Poor fellows!' he said as if to himself; 'whisky is about the only
excitement they have, and they find it pretty tough to give it up; and
a lot of the men are against the total abstinence idea. It seems rot to
them.'

'It is pretty steep,' I said. 'Can't you do without it?'

'No; I fear not. There is nothing else for it. Some of them talk of
compromise. They want to quit the saloon and drink quietly in their
shacks. The moderate drinker may have his place in other countries,