gling, dying woman. Oliver Cromwell said:
"It is relative misgovernment that lashes nations into fury." The long
suffering in silence by the womanhood of this country from the
misgovernment that has heaped upon woman the woes of strong drink by
the licensed saloon, whether a tribute to the patience of woman or
not, is to the eternal shame of man, whose inhumanity to woman through
the liquor traffic is making "countless millions mourn."

To this misgovernment is due the unrest among women and the impetus
behind the equal suffrage movement today. There needs to be a saving
influence brought into our political life, and I have faith to believe
that woman's ballot will provide that influence. Having proved her
dignity in every new field of activity she has entered, I believe the
same flowers of refinement will adorn the ballot box when she holds in
her hand the sacred trust of franchise. Her life-long habit of
house-cleaning will be carried to the dirty pool of politics, where
the saloon is entrenched, and the demagogue and demijohn will be
carted away to the garbage pile of discarded rubbish.

Now and then I am asked: "What will become of the men who are engaged
in the liquor business if the country goes dry? What will become of
their families?" I answer by asking: What becomes of the men the
saloons put out of business? What becomes of their families? When
prohibition puts a man out of business, it leaves him his brain,
blood, bone, muscle, nerves and whatever manhood he has left in store,
while his long rest from active toil has given him a reserve force for
active, useful business. When the saloon puts a man out of business,
he goes out with shattered nerves, weak will, poisoned blood and so
unfitted for service no place is open for him to earn a living.
Recently a man put out of business by prohibition said to me: "This
town went dry seven years ago, and going out of the saloon business
has been such a benefit to me and to my family, I shall work and vote
to put all other saloon-keepers in this state out of business for
their own good."

On the other hand, I have in mind a man who once chained the Congress
of the United States by his eloquence. Clients clamored for his
service, and prosperity crowned his practice in the courts. In
drinking saloons he lost his clientage and in penniless poverty he
died--unwept, unhonored, unsung. The ex-saloon-keeper to whom I
referred is city marshall and very popular, while the man