'Charge It': Keeping Up With Harry
XVI
WHICH PRESENTS AN INCIDENT IN OUR CAMPAIGN AGAINST NEW NEW ENGLAND
"We had some adventures in new New England which ought to be set down.Here's one of them.
"The old village of Trent lies back in the hills, a little journeyfrom Pointview, on the shores of a pleasant river. To the unknowingtraveler, who approaches from either hilltop, it has a peaceful andinviting look. But the rutted, rocky road begins at once to excitesuspicion. A bad road is an indication and a producer of degeneracy inman and beast. It tends to profanity, and if it went far wouldprobably lead to hell. Trent itself is one of the little modern hellsof New England. There are the venerable and neatly fashioned houses ofthe old-time Yankee--the peaked roofs and gables, the columns, thecozy verandas, the garden spaces. But the old-time Yankees are gone.The well-kept gardens are no more. Many of the houses are going toruin. One is an Italian tenement. The others are inhabited bycoachmen, chauffeurs, gardeners, mill-hands, and degenerate Yankees.The inn is a mere barroom. Sounds of revelry and the odor of stalebeer come out of it. In front are teams of burden, abandoned, for atime, by their drivers, and sundry human signs of decay loafing in theshadow of the old lindens. Among them are the seedy remnants of a oncenoble race. They are fettered by 'rheumatiz' and the disordered liver.They move like boats dragging their anchors. To make life tolerabletheir imaginations need assistance. They are like the Flub Dubs oflost Atlantis. Each imagines himself the greatest man in the village.They talk in loud words. They quarrel and fight over the crown. So ithas been a brawling, besotted community.
"Trent's leading citizen is a Yankee politician who owns most of itsreal estate and derives a profit from its lawless traffic. Trent hasbeen his enterprise.
"Knowles went over there one day to conduct a funeral, which wasinterrupted by a dog-fight under the coffin and nearly broken up by arow over two dollars which had been found in a pocket of the deadman.
"We opened a club-house next to the hotel, and began a campaign forthe regeneration of Trent. Soon we discovered that its one officer wasunwilling to arrest offenders against law and order. We had himremoved and a new man put in his place. This man was set upon andseverely beaten, and lost interest in the good work. Then Harryapplied for the job and got it. He took with him a force of huskyyoung men--mostly college boys. The first day on duty he arrested inthe street a drunken man who carried in his hands a small sack ofpotatoes. The latter whistled for help, and the enemies of law andorder swarmed out of their haunts. Harry had become an expert ballpitcher, noted for speed and accuracy. He floored his man and tookpossession of the potatoes, with which he proceeded to defend himself.Only two balls were pitched, but they held the enemy in check untilHarry's deputies had rushed out of the club-house. A flying wedgescattered the crowd. No further violence was needed. The ruffians sawthat he meant business and had the nerve and muscle to carry itthrough, and nothing more was necessary--just then.
"They took the drunken man to the lock-up, and came back and got abartender, and led him in the same path. Harry has the situation wellin hand, and is the most popular man in our community. Every day wehave items to put to his credit, and nothing to charge against hisreputation. There's something going on at the club every evening, andthe rooms are crowded. Those men who had sat day by day brawling underthe lindens now spend most of their leisure in the reading and cardrooms. Peace reigns in Trent. Such is the power of united benevolenceworking with the strong hand and the courageous spirit."