THE WORKER AND LIQUOR.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume XX, Issue 1121, 5 October 1911, Page 22

THE WORKER AND LIQUOR.

RATHER AMUSING MEETING. ”, Post Office Square was the scene of a rather amusing meeting at Wellington, reports a local journal. The Queen’s Statue having been removed some time ago, a new orator’s vantage had to be arranged for. This was forthcoming in the form of a cart from the nearest stand, and from the deck of the vehicle the speakers held forth.

A lady, whose speech made it unmistakable that she was a wee bit Scotch, was introduced as Mrs Barton, who had 'been for some time a parish councillor of Glasgow. A fairsized crowd of working men had assembled to hear Mrs Barton. After some introductory remarks Mrs Barton said before her she saw the working men, and all round were the results of their labours —these streets, these edifices, etc. And what had the liquor traffic done A voice: “What has prohibition done?” Mrs Barton: What has the liquor traffic done? We have never had prohibition; we are only going to get it now!” She thought that the country which legalised the liquor traffic ought to have some pity for its victims. The “moderate man who could drink off his bot f le of champagne” cared little about the working-man victim of drink who helped to make the brewer rich. “If you want a titled aristocracy in this country, we will let you have some of them. We will send them out as immigrants. They are not wanted there.” (Laughter.) There were here some interruptions, and Mrs Barton invited one of those who were making them to get up on the cart with her. He did so, and subsequently another worker mounted the vehicle.

“As long as I am a working man, and as 'ong as I have a shilling in my pocket,” the latter declared, “if there is a drop of drink in the country I will have it. If I want a bottle of ale I am not going to Mrs Barton to say I want ” Mrs Barton: “You wouldna’ get it!” (Laughter.) The worker: “If I wanted a plate of porridge ” (Hear, hear.) Mrs Barton: “Ah, now; you would get that.” As time was petering out, the working man was retired, and Mrs Barton continued her address. In conclusion, she said: “I am going back Home soon, and I want to go Home with three ringing cheers from the workers of New Zealand.” The town clock: “Do —re —me. Bang!” Workers’ voices: “One o’clock! Time to start work!” Mrs Barton (fluttering a small white handkerchief): “Now, friends, three cheers.” The “cheers” were rather faint.