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"Great is the fall thereof." And to the music of tinkling glass, takes place the last act of the happiest tragedy ever told, the "Passing of John Barleycorn." The amendment by which prohibition shall be written into the Constitution, has been ratified at last by the necessary number of states. Well may the tragic minority echo the prophetic words attributed to Nat Goodwin when, blindfolded, he was given water to taste. "I don't know what it is but it will never be popular."
John Barleycorn had a long life and served his purpose well,--after his fashion. On cold nights he made us warm; on hot days he made us cool. When we were melancholy, he made us gay; when we were gay, he made us melancholy--the next morning.
But in spite of his many good qualities, we must acknowledge that his death is one of the greatest blessings ever bestowed upon this country. He was dangerous, not to be trifled with. To his door can be attributed the cause of more sorrow, misery and disease than any other single factor in American life. The war only too clearly showed there is no place for him in a serious nation. By cutting out the heart of the cancer, only can the cancer be cured. The necessary operation has been performed.
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