Valparaiso High School - Valenian Yearbook (Valparaiso, IN)

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HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL 17 wish to win a suit, you do not employ a drunken lawyer; neither do you wish to send your children to drunken teachers; nor do you trust your life in the care of a drunken engineer. These are the things you ought to think of. You do not know but that you are sacrificing the happiness of your own home, the honor of your child, and perhaps your own soul by approving High License. On the other hand, what will be the effects of High License upon the liquor business as a business? We know that High License means money. ' Phis then will diminish the saloons, but make of them regular centers of perversion, completely protected by the law. You will find in them all that a refined man loathes, all that a good man hates, all that a patriotic citizen fears. They will be handled with care because they furnish so large an amount of public revenue. They will become places that the police will be inclined not to notice; so you see High License will simply serve to consolidate and strengthen the saloons. Are we then inconsistent in refusing to accept High License which is within our reach, and grasping for Prohibition, which many think beyond us? State and national prohibition is what our conscience demands. High License will not do, for that which is wrong in principle can not be good policy, and no question should ever be settled until it is settled right.

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16 HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL We are to-day living in a wonderful age of big undertakings. At every hand is to be seen advancement, improvement and progress. Nothing stands still. But who are the workers? They are the calm, honest, thoughtful men who make this condition of growth possible. But, if High License becomes the highest expression of the moral law of our country, are we still going to continue our progress? Will not High License be a Backward Step? Forty-five years ago, our country stood in dreadful peril because of slavery. It was then that the noble work of Garrison, Sumner and Harriet Beecher Stowe was completing itself. While they were sacrificing their very lives in this great work, others were ridiculing and mocking them. But soon their fondest desires were fulfilled when the immortal Lincoln freed from the bonds of slavery millions of colored men. Look with me upon the present. Around us we see other Garrisons, other Sumners and many Harriet Beecher Stowes, sacrificing their lives in an even greater work for humanity — the Cause of Temperance. Some one has said that “looking forward into the not distant future, we shall see some second Lincoln striking the bonds of slavery from millions of drink-cursed men.” But grant for a moment that the saloons are diminished by High License. What practical difference does that make? Twenty horses can drink no more from twenty troughs than from ten, and if there is water enough and room enough, they can drink all they want at one trough. It is a question of supply and demand. Diminish the saloons if you wish, but that settles nothing so long as there is enough liquor for all. License, either high or low, is a fraud and a sham as a temperance measure and we can easily see that nearly all the tax of high license is shifted upon the laboring man. and what is more, not only him but upon those dependant upon him. In our Declaration of Independence, we are told that all men are created free and equal, and that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, and that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. Have we then the right to license that which takes life, which forfeits liberty and which destroys happiness? Our government does nothing to protect the wives and children who suffer from extreme want, but instead the weight of the whole nation seems to be uniting to crush them. You say indifferently, “It can’t he helped.” Have you tried to lessen this crime? No. You propose to license the very evil which causes all the misery and in reality what right have you to license saloons? The saloon-keepers will say, “Well, it is not our fault,” and they will show you their license and say, “We are agents of the government.” The government will not license a thief and how much more right have they to license saloons? This evil not only affects the laboring man, but draws all other classes into its net. If you are sick, you do not call in a drunken physician ; if you

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18 HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL Class Prophecy. IPON one of those rare days in April, which occur so frequently, when the wind pulls your hair and the soil comfortably deposits itself in your eyes, I sauntered up to the High School with languid steps. 1 entered that spacious temple of learning and located myself before one of the windows. Listlessly I gazed out upon that most inspiring scene which presents itself before the aforesaid windows, when suddenly I fell into a mysterious trance. Of all the rapturously philo- sophical, psychological, reverential moments I ever spent, those were the greatest. A peculiar, superhuman, prophetic power held me in its clutches and I realized at once that I was destined to be the hated rival of Calchas, the soothsayer, and of Jeremiah, that wise seer of yore. To me in those moments appeared the brilliant future of the class of ’08. If you will kindly extend your ears or your glassy orbs, it matters not which, I will impart to you what I beheld in those prophetic moments. A series of visions floated past my mental optic, and in each I recognized some valiant comrade of the Senior Class. A tall, lean man first greeted me. lie was endeavoring, by means of a happy combination of fish-poles and garden-hoes, to determine the shortest distance between Flint Lake and the equator. Glen was still delving in mathematics. An automobile next sped through the thoroughfare of my vision, and in it were seated Lee, and the fair damsel, at whose facsimile he had so often gazed in English. A public platform floated before my eyes. On it was perched Mabel. With her eyes blazing and her arms widely gesticulating, she was eloquently adressing the world upon the subject of “Woman’s Rights.” I next heard the sweet strains of “Love Me and the World Is Mine,” and saw Mary deftly fingering the keys of her piano. A moment more and I heard Ralph’s manly voice softly singing those well-known words. Mary was his sole audience. I readily realized that the world was his. A business office then appeared. In a large and comfortable chair I recognized “the boss,” a corpulent, rosy-cheeked man. He was reading an article on Basket Ball, and above him hung an artistic sign, which read: “Schenck, Attorney at Law Office Hours 7 :15 to 7 :20 Every evening except Sunday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday.” And it was our boy, Ben.