some kind Christian, pump a stroke or two, just to wet my whistle. Thank
you, sir! My dear hearers, when the world shall have been regenerated by
my instrumentality, you will collect your useless vats and liquor-casks
into one great pile, and make a bonfire, in honor of the Town Pump. And,
when I shall have decayed, like my predecessors, then, if you revere my
memory, let a marble fountain, richly sculptured, take my place upon this
spot. Such monuments should be erected everywhere, and inscribed with
the names of the distinguished champions of my cause. Now listen; for
something very important is to come next.

There are two or three honest friends of mine--and true friends, I know,
they are--who, nevertheless, by their fiery pugnacity in my behalf, do
put me in fearful hazard of a broken nose or even a total overthrow upon
the pavement, and the loss of the treasure which I guard. I pray you,
gentlemen, let this fault be amended. Is it decent, think you, to get
tipsy with zeal for temperance, and take up the honorable cause of the
Town Pump in the style of a toper, fighting for his brandy-bottle? Or,
can the excellent qualities of cold water be not otherwise exemplified,
than by plunging slapdash into hot water, and wofully scalding yourselves
and other people? Trust me, they may. In the moral warfare, which you
are to wage,--and, indeed, in the whole conduct of your lives,--you
cannot choose a better example than myself, who have never permitted the
dust and sultry atmosphere, the turbulence and manifold disquietudes of
the world around me, to reach that deep, calm well of purity, which may
be called my soul. And whenever I pour out that soul, it is to cool
earth's fever, or cleanse its stains.

One o'clock! Nay, then, if the dinner-bell begins to speak, I may as
well hold my peace. Here comes a pretty young girl of my acquaintance,
with a large stone pitcher for me to fill. May she draw a husband, while