7/7/2023 0 Comments John barleycorn alcoholHe is the august companion with whom one walks with the gods. I am never less his friend than when he is with me and when I seem most his friend. It is the wives, and sisters, and mothers, and they only, who will drive the nails into the coffin of John Barleycorn-īut I thought you were a friend to John Barleycorn, Charmian interpolated. When the women get the ballot, they will vote for prohibition, I said. I'd like to see any drunken man ride her.)Īnd yet-how shall I say?-I was lighted up, I was feeling good, I was pleasantly jingled. The horse I had ridden was well named The Outlaw. The more I answered, the more indignant I became. Now just why did you vote for it? Charmian asked. In my later and more tolerant years I had been unenthusiastic in my acceptance of it as an inevitable social phenomenon. For, be it known, in my younger days, despite my ardent democracy, I had been opposed to woman suffrage. How did you vote on the suffrage amendment? Charmian asked. Then I had ridden up through the vine-clad hills and rolling pastures of the ranch, and arrived at the farm-house in time for another drink and supper. Because of the warmth of the day I had had several drinks before casting my ballot, and divers drinks after casting it. It was on a warm California afternoon, and I had ridden down into the Valley of the Moon from the ranch to the little village to vote Yes and No to a host of proposed amendments to the Constitution of the State of California.
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