The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 45
Little Sins
Little Sins.
A Little hole in a ship sinks it; a small breach in a sea-bank carries all away before it; a little stab in the heart kills a man; and a little sin, as it is often improperly called, tends to his final destruction. Whatever sin the heart is prone to, that the devil will help forward. A little drop has been many a man's rum—every drunkard began with a single glass.
Procrastination is the Thief of Time. Consult G. R. Mott,
The Permissive Bill.—My bill proposes that the people shall be permitted to express their will to the magistrates, just as now the magistrates dictate their will to the people. It is provided in the bill that if any locality desires (by a majority of two-thirds of the ratepayers) that there shall be no licenses issued, then for three years that state or things shall exist in that locality. After the Licensing system has been tried for Three Hundred years, it is only fair that the Permissive system shall be tried for Three years. And if, after three years' trial, it should be found that the population was getting poorer and more miserable—that drunkenness, crime, pauperism, and lunacy increased because there were no public-houses—and if the ratepayers should be miserable and wretched, and wish to return to the old happy and glorious state of things—they could by a bare majority of One enable the magistrates to go to work again and set down as many public-houses as they liked. That is the Permissive Bill.—Sir Wilfred Lawson.
page 16A Lighthouse.—"Everything has its use," said a philosophical professor to his class. "Of what use is a drunkard's fiery red nose?" asked one of the pupils. "It's a lighthouse," answered the professor, "to warn us of the little water that passes underneath it, and reminds us of the shoals of appetite on which we might otherwise be wrecked."
An Unintentional Reproof.—A gentleman one day saw his daughter dipping her little doll-baby's dress into a tin cup, and inquired, "What are you doing my daughter?" "I'm colouring my doll's dress red." "With what?" "With beer." "What put that foolish notion into your head, child? You can't colour red with beer." "Yes I can, papa, because mamma said it was beer that made your nose red." And the man had business that required him down town immediately.
A Smart Answer.—Walking to the club with a friend from the theatre, some intoxicated young fellows reeled up to the dramatist and said, "Can you tell us the way to the 'Judge and Jury'?" Keep on as you are, young gentlemen," was the reply; "you re sure to overtake them."
page 17The Marriage of Cana.—Dwellers in great cities were sometimes disposed to think very contemptuously of the rustic intellect; but let the following speak for itself. A poor man in the country was pressed, as doubtless very many have been pressed, very strongly with the marriage of Cana. This was brought before him to try to show that our Lord himself was pleased to t urn the water into wine, that the guests might drink of it. The poor man replied thus: "I always desire to follow my blessed Lord in all things, and I find Him saying, 'Fid the water-pots with water;' therefore I will fill my glass with water, and if he is pleased to work a miracle and turn it into wine, then I won't refuse to drink. Till that has been done I will stick to my water."
A Sad Case.—"i think I've seen you before, sir. Are you not Owen Smith?" "Oh, yes, I'm owin' Smith, and owin' Jones, and owin' Brown, and owin' everybody.'