Jasmine's Place Issue No. 16 - August 2015 | Page 8

FAITH FIELDS
I straightened my bonnet and
shoulders as I pulled the churchyard
gate shut behind us, and we set off
towards the village. Another meeting
of the Society of Soldierettes for
Sensibility and Sobriety was over,
equipping us well with an arsenal of
admonitions certain to persuade
even the most truculent imbiber.
“Isn’t it exciting?” Cora twittered.
I nodded. Spirits were the ruination
of many, and our mission was to
convince every man in the village to
sign the pledge for temperance and
close the tavern. We’d spent many
hours preparing, listening to
Commander Mavis. As if hearing my
thoughts, Cora launched into a
strutting imitation of our leader.
“‘This is war! It is our Christian duty
to banish every bottle and barrel in
the country.’ Here we are, Jennie.”
The mill whistle had sounded, and
men were already flocking up the
road toward the tavern. “Ready?”
I patted my leaflet-stuffed satchel.
My heart was beating like rapidly
firing artillery. Cora boldly stepped
up to a man pushing through the
tavern door.
“You, foolish man, spending your pay
packet on liquor, then staggering
home at all hours to your shivering
wife and starving children. For
shame!”
“Who you calling foolish, silly chit?”
The man guffawed rudely.
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JASMINE'S PLACE
He went into the tavern, wa ving
away Cora’s leaflet. With wide eyes, I
watched as Cora, unfazed, swooped
down on another man approaching
the tavern.
“Sir, don’t you know the evils of hard
spirits? Why, your heart will swell as
big as a milk pail, and your
grandchildren will be simpleminded.
Cease, and sign the pledge!”
The man guffawed rudely.
“Hmmph. Jennie, it’s your turn.”
A whiskered man approached.
“Sir,” I whispered, holding out a
leaflet. “Please, surrender yourself to
sobriety.”
“Out of my way.” The door
slammed.
“Be forceful, Jennie. Commander
Mavis was right. This is indeed a
battle, and I am exhausted,” Cora
moaned. “I need a cuppa. You?”
“Well, all right, but we still have an
awful lot of leaflets.”
“They’ll wait. Even soldiers must
take refreshment.”
A pot of tea and four scones with jam
later, Cora declared us fortified,
ready to re-enter the fray, but day
was fading. We went home, and the