Samuel went home walking upon air. He had found a place for himself and a place for Sophie. And he had got the reforming of Bertie Lockman under way! Truly, the church was a great institution—the solution of all the puzzles and problems of life. And fortunate was Samuel to be so close to the inner life of things!
Then suddenly, on a street corner, he stopped short. A sign had caught his eye—“John Callahan, Wines and Liquors—Bernheimer Beer.” “Do you know what that place is?” he said to Sophie.
“That's where my friend Finnegan works.”
“Who's Finnegan?” asked the child.
“He's the barkeeper who gave me something to eat when I first came to town. He's a good man, even if he is a barkeeper.”
Samuel had often found himself thinking of Finnegan; for it had been altogether against his idea of things that a man so obviously well meaning should be selling liquor. And now suddenly a brilliant idea flashed across his mind. Why should he continue selling liquor? And instantly Samuel saw a new duty before him. He must help Finnegan.
And forgetting that it was time for his dinner, he bade good-by to Sophie and went into the saloon.
“Well, young feller!” exclaimed the Irishman, his face lighting up with pleasure; and then, seeing the boy's new collar and tie, “Gee, you're moving up in the world!”
“I've got a job,” said Samuel proudly. “I'm the assistant sexton at St. Matthew's Church.”
“You don't say! Gone up with the sky pilots, hey!”
Samuel did not notice this irreverent remark. He looked around the place and saw that they were alone. Then he said, very earnestly, “Mr. Finnegan, may I have a few minutes' talk with you?”
“Sure,” said Finnegan perplexed. “What is it?”
“It's something I've been thinking about very often,” said Samuel. “You were so kind to me, and I saw that you were a good-hearted man. And so it has always seemed to me too bad that you should be selling drink.”
The other stared at him. “Gee!” he said, “are you going to take me up in your airship?”
“Mr. Finnegan,” said the boy, “I wish you wouldn't make fun of me. For I'm talking to you out of the bottom of my heart.”
And Samuel gazed with so much yearning in his eyes that the man was touched, in spite of the absurdity of it. “Go on,” he said. “I'll listen.”
“It's just this,” said Samuel. “It's wrong to sell liquor! Think what drink does to men? I saw a man drunk the other night and it led to what was almost murder. Drink makes men cruel and selfish. It takes away their self-control. It makes them unfit for their work. It leads to vice and wickedness. It enslaves them and degrades them. Don't you know that is true, Mr. Finnegan?”
“Yes,” admitted Finnegan, “I reckon it is. I never touch the stuff myself.”
“And still you sell it to others?”
“Well, my boy, I don't do it because I hate them.”
“But then, why DO you do it?”
“I do it,” said Finnegan, “because I have to live. It's my trade—it's all I know.”
“It seems such a terrible trade!” exclaimed the boy.
“Maybe,” said the other. “But take notice, it ain't a princely one. I'm on the job all day and a good part of the night, and standing up all the time. And I don't get no holidays either—and I only get twelve a week. And I've a wife and a new baby. So what's a man to do?”
Now, strange as it may seem, this unfolded a new view to Samuel. He had always supposed that bartenders and saloonkeepers were such from innate depravity. Could it really be that they were driven to the trade?
The bare idea was enough to set his zeal in a blaze. “Listen,” he said. “Suppose I were to find you some kind of honest work, so that you could earn a living. Would you promise to reform?”
“Do you mean would I quit Callahan's? Why, sure I would.”
“Ah!” exclaimed the boy in delight.
“But it'd have to be a steady job,” put in the other. “I can take no chances with the baby.”
“That's all right,” said Samuel. “I'll get you what you want.”
“Gee, young feller!” exclaimed Finnegan. “Do you carry 'em round in your pockets?”
“No,” said Samuel, “but Dr. Vince asked me to help him; and I'm going to tell him about you.”
And so, forthwith, he made his way to the doctor's house, and was ushered into the presence of the unhappy clergyman. He stated his case; and the other threw up his hands in despair.
“Really,” he exclaimed, “this is too much, Samuel! I can't find employment for everyone in Lockmanville.”
“But, doctor!” protested Samuel, “I don't think you understand. This man wants to lead a decent life, and he can't because there's no way for him to earn a living.”
“I understand all that Samuel.”
“But, doctor, what's the use of trying to reform men if they're chained in that way?”
Th............