Part 6 (1/2)

He had been drinking until he was almost crazy. He left in about half an hour, saying he ”was going to h.e.l.l,” but I told him, no; to have faith in G.o.d and He would save him.

This was the last I saw of him, but I heard afterwards that he had a small store in Wichita and was living in the rear of it with his family.

The person that told me of him, said that he asked Mr. Grogan if he sold liquor. His answer was: ”No, I got enough of that in Medicine Lodge.”

This Mr. Smith became a wreck for a time, and lost his business in Sharon.

After I came out of jail in Wichita the third time, I met a man on the street and he made himself known as the Smith of Sharon. He looked quite well and said he had quit drinking entirely and was a real estate dealer in Wichita.

I soon heard of its being told around in Medicine Lodge that I drank beer in a dive. So I went to Hank O'Bryan's restaurant and said: ”Some of these jointists are telling that I drank in a dive. Now if it comes to the ears of the public, I will have to go on the witness stand and tell where I drank beer.” Hank turned pale, looked comical and I never heard any more of that.

There was a saloon keeper in Kiowa, named ”Billy” Morris and living with him as his wife was a girl whose name was Cora Bennett. This poor girl had been living an irregular life, but was true to this man, who had promised her time after time to marry her, but was only deceiving her. She entered his bar room one day and told him he must fulfill his promise to her now, or she would kill him. He tried to laugh at her. She fired a shot and killed him on the spot; then the poor girl fell on his dead body screaming in a distracted manner. She was arrested and brought to jail at Medicine Lodge; and was there six months. Being Jail Evangelist I went to see her, sometimes twice a week. When I first saw her she was reticent, and did not seem glad to see me. She was so nice, that I fell in love with her and I asked the ladies of the W. C. T. U. to visit her, but they thought her a hopeless case. She bought a Bible and we would read and pray together and talked about the need of Christ in our lives. She was a woman of great sympathy. I asked her once: ”Did you ever love anyone.” She wept bitterly and said: ”Yes, the man I killed.”

Toward the last she seemed perfectly delighted when I came to her cell. She, consented to go to a home where she would have friends who would keep her, to make a change in her life. The morning she left I went to the jail and rode with her in the hack to the depot and then to a town about twenty miles east of Medicine Lodge, called Attica. On the train from Medicine Lodge to Attica, the deputy sheriff had some man to give this girl a letter from him, telling her to meet him at Wellington.

The girl's father lived at Attica, and an older sister of her's met us. I could see the sister was not a good woman, and she took Cora to a room and exchanged the modest hat and dress for a showy hat and elaborate silk dress; and when I saw her it almost broke my heart. I said to her: ”Oh, Cora, all my work to save you is in vain.” I had rather have seen her drop dead, and I grieved all the way home. From Attica she went to Wellington, instead of Olathe, Kansas, where she was to enter this home.

James Dobson was sheriff of Barber County and his brother kept a saloon in Kiowa, the first saloon I ever smashed.

I heard no good news of Cora for some years; she led a bad life.

Five years later, through a W. C. T. U. lecturer, I heard that she was married and living in Colorado; and she was an efficient worker as a W.

C. T. U. woman; among fallen women. She told of her past life and of a Mrs. Nation visiting her. This woman said it was so incredible to believe that Cora could have been so bad, and had taken a human life, that she was anxious to see the place in Kiowa and to see Cora's prison cell and myself. I was then in Oklahoma, and I certainly rejoiced over this news from her I had learned to love. I saw in this wayward girl certain qualities that would be a power for good, if once G.o.d could have His way with her life.

There are diamonds in the slush and filth of this world. Happy is he who picks them up and helps to wash the dirt away, that they may s.h.i.+ne for G.o.d. I am very much drawn to my fallen sisters. Oh! the cruelty and oppression they meet with! If the first stone was cast by those who were guiltless, those who were to be stoned would rarely get a blow.

O. L. DAY'S DRUG STORE.

There was a druggist, O. L. Day, in Medicine Lodge who was unlawfully selling intoxicating liquor. He himself was drinking; also his clerk.

I got a knowledge of a deposit of this contraband goods. I put a little boy on my buggy horse and sent a letter to our dear Sister Cain, who was president of our local union. She called several of the women together at our W. C. T. V. room and made known to them what I knew of O. L. Day receiving these intoxicants. There was a great deal of discussion, but at last it was decided that we should investigate. At that time I was regarded as a fanatic, and many of these were afraid for me to plan for them, so I kept very quiet. It was finally agreed that Mrs. A. L.

n.o.ble and Mrs. Runyan should go first and see how matters were. Sister Runyan finally said before we got there: ”Let Mrs. Nation go in my place.” I said: ”Thank G.o.d!” Oh, I was so glad, for I felt that I could handle this case.

{ill.u.s.t. caption = THIS IS A PICTURE OF A SOCIETY I ORGANIZED IN DEWEY COUNTY, OKLA., WHEN WE LIVED IN DOUGOUTS. WE WOULD GO FROM HOUSE TO HOUSE, WASH, SEW, CLEAN HOUSE, AND OTHERWISE HELP THE HELPLESS.}

O. L. Day was a real gentleman by nature. He was the man with one fault, and that was alcoholism. Mrs. n.o.ble said: ”You do the talking.”

While we were in the W. C. T. U. room discussing, Sister Runyan said: ”I will not have anything to do with this if Mrs. Nation does.” I kept still, praying for the raid to go through, even if I was not in it; and when it came to the point, I had just what I wanted. I felt entirely equal to the occasion. Sister Runyan did not understand me then, for we are the best of friends and she has been true to me in my efforts to defend the homes of Kansas. I told Mr. Day, we, as a W. C. T. U. thought he had not been dealing fairly, and I looked at his little back room suspiciously, as much as to say: ”I would like to see what you have in there.” He said: ”Ladies would you like to go in the room?” I said: ”Yes.” I knew I could discover the secret. I saw behind the prescription case a ten gallon keg. I said to myself: ”That is a find.” About this time the rest of the women, accompanied by Sister Cain, came in the front door.

Mr. Day was as white as death all the time. As soon as he went to the front I smelled the keg bung. I turned it on one side and rolled it to the front saying; ”Women, this is the whiskey!” Mr. Day's clerk caught the end of the keg to turn it out of my hands and on the other side of it was Jim Gano, the marshal, who I think hauled all the divekeepers' goods to them. He was a Republican and in with the whiskey ring and a ”rummy” himself. I then placed a foot on each side of the keg and held it firm with both feet and hands. Jim Gano sprang in front of me and with his chest against my head, I thought certainly he would break my neck. I called to the women to help me. Mrs. n.o.ble caught him by one side of the collar and some one the other side and held him back against the counter until I could roll the keg out into the street. All this time Sister Cain, like a general, was saying: ”Don't any one touch these women. They are right. They are christian women, trying to save the boys of our state.” I called for a hatchet from the hardware store of Mr.

Case. He was very angry and said: ”No!” He also, was drinking too much. I called to Mrs. n.o.ble to get a sledge hammer from the blacksmith shop across the street. She did and handed it to me. I struck with all my might. The whiskey flew high in the air. The ladies came near to pour it out, but I said: ”Save some.” So Sister Runyan got a bottle and filled it. Then we poured it out and set it afire. I fell on my knees in the middle of the street and thanked G.o.d for this victory. Dr. Gould, a man ”fit for treason, stratagem and spoils,” was the one to help Day dispose of these drinks, as many doctors do. This doctor gave out that this was ”California Brandy”, costing seventy-five dollars, that he had advised Day to get it for medical purposes.

Mr. Day was at this time getting a permit to sell it for medical purposes.

He appeared in court to prove he was a graduated pharmacist, never drank, and never had a clerk that did. The W. C. T. U. were there in a body. We contested his right to have the permit. Poor man. I pitied him. He was very much under the influence of intoxicants. When asked; ”What that was in the keg the ladies rolled out of his drug store on the 16th of February?” he said: ”It was California brandy.” When asked: ”If he knew the taste of whiskey and brandy,” he said: ”Yes.”

We handed him a bottle of this that he said was brandy. He p.r.o.nounced it ”a poor quality of sour mash whiskey.” Sister Runyan was then put on the stand and said: ”It came from the keg that was smashed.”

This man was so humbled that he sold out in a month and left Medicine Lodge.

There are parties in that town who are more responsible than O. L. Day. They did every thing in their power to have him do that which was his ruin. In retaliation for this the republican rum element one night made an attack on Sister Cain's and my house, broke windows and threw rocks, and broke my buggy. They also sent a negro to my house, named Haskel, a noted bootlegger. He asked for an interview.

He had quite a tale to tell me about hearing some men say that if the women appeared against Day that my house would go. I am so well acquainted with the colored race I could read him from the first and knew that these ”Rummies” had put this negro up to intimidate me. I listened as if I believed. Then I said: ”Haskel you ought to know by this time that such men as these will not prevent me from doing my duty, besides should my home be burned, it would be a lecture in favor of my cause that would be worth more to me than the home. Now Haskel you get in the company of these men and you tell them what I have told you.” This negro pretended to me that he came to me as a friend. When I told him what I did, his expression was amusing to see.

CHAPTER VII.

SPIRITUAL LEADINGS.--JESUS A CONSCIOUS PRESENCE THREE DAYS.--LOSS OF LIBERTY BY COMPROMISING.--THE PRICE PAID TO BE REINSTATED.--DISGRACE TO BE A MILLIONAIRE

I had once while in Medicine Lodge, a heavenly rapture for three days. My Savior was my constant companion. I saw no form, heard no word. But His dear face was just behind and looking over my right shoulder.

He was a conscious presence and the deep peace was beyond any experience I ever had. I shunned the society of persons. I would talk to Him, would sing and play the accompaniment on the organ. I was particular about my home work. While I saw no face, or form, I realized that His was a sweet, smiling, gratified expression, and it told me I was pleasing Him. I did not seem then to think this anything wonderful, and have often reproached myself for not setting more store by this at the time.

There was a period of from six months to a year that I was terribly haunted by a feeling as if hung over a precipice. I was hanging only by a rope above my head held by a hand out of a cloud. At night or in the day, it was the same uneasy dread of falling. The precipice below was black and horrible. There were banks on each side. At last I swung over, landing on the right side. Oh! the relief!