268 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



It is a much more difficult matter to com- 

 ment, without loss of temper, upon the thirteen 

 letters received concerning rum. Here again, 

 as in the use of tobacco, it seems to me that the 

 writers of these letters had better have spent 

 their energies among people nearer their own 

 homes, and let me, an unoffending stranger, 

 alone. Certainly my opinion on the subject of 

 the use of wine is absolutely of no importance. 

 Because I have wandered by the brookside 

 watching little fishes or listening to little birds 

 in the bushes above the water, is apparently no 

 reason why strangers should be curious as to 

 what appears upon my table. These same 

 people do not question their butcher and baker, 

 but swallow their wares without comment, but 

 hesitate to swallow mine until assured there is 

 no alcohol in my drink. I will not say of all 

 this that it matters nothing, for it does. It shows 

 that fanaticism can, like ambition, overleap itself. 

 The author of a book is not, more than another, 

 his brother's keeper, and the would-be reader 

 who wishes to know in advance whether or not 

 I use wine is a reader not worth having. I 

 have never felt it a duty to devote a page or 



