Democratic Sentinel, Volume 9, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 January 1885 — The Lime-Kiln Club. [ARTICLE]

The Lime-Kiln Club.

As the meeting opened there was * strong smell of burning meat in the hall, and the echoes of the triangle had scarcely died away when Elder Toots made a break for the door in a way to upset half a dozen different members, and bring down another large piece of plaster from the ceiling. He had gone to sleep with his foot on the hot stove to thaw ont the chilblains. They had thawed, and the heat had worked down through five years’ layers of cement and got at the real flesh. When the excitement had been allayed, and the keeper of the outer door had reported that the Elder was down in the alley with both feet in a barrel of ice-water. Brother Gardner said:

“When I find a sober, industrious workingman who am out o’ work I am gwine to reason dat it am de nateral consequence of de gineral depreshun in bizness. When'l find dat same pusson in want o’ bread I am gwine to ax him sartin queshuns. I want to know what he did wid his wages. If he libed as became a man aimin’ $2 per day, I want to know why he hasn’t sunthin’ laid up. If he earned $2 per day and jibed at de rate of $25 per week, I lias no furder use fur him.

“Each winter we li’ar dis cry of charity. Each winter de man who lias managed to save up a leetle am told dat it am his solemn dooty to hand a part of it ober to charity. We am not to ax men and women whether they worked or idled de summer away; whether deir airnin’s went for luxuries or necessities; whether they spent wid a free hand or denied demselves a single thing. If de sales of beer an’ tobacco depended on de rich an’ moderately well-off de bizness would decrease twothirds. If our summer excursion boats depended on de same classes dev couldn’t run. If our street-cars had no other patrons dey would stop deir trips. Our circuses an’ theaters are supported by de workin’ classes. Our toy stores an’ bazars make few sales to de rich.

Nineteen out of twenty of our work-ing-men use ebery dollar of deir wages from week to week, an’ not one laborer in fifty am satisfied to lib on his airnin’s. De rich practice economy; de poor waste an’ destroy. In my humble cabin we practice economy. We remake an’ remodle. We color over old clothes, an’ peel de ’taters hlose. If I airn seben dollars a week we stop when we hev spent six. When de fall eands an’ winter comes we has sunthin’ laid up. Does dat sunthin’ belong to us, who have pinched an’ planned an’ saved, or to charity—which means de man who has idled half his time away, an’ had his tobacco and beer regularly—which means de woman who has dressed in cashmere when she orter hev dressed in ealiker—which means de fam’ly who has had oysters on Sundays when I had co’n beef. I ax no man to close his heart or purse agin honest people who hev met wid bad luck, but de socalled eharity of to-day am a premium 011 idleness and extravagance—an aid in maintainin’ a class of leeches who have neither shame industry nor gratitudie.”—Free Press.