The Massachusetts Spy, And Worcester County Advertiser

There is much truth as well as humor in the following article, which we copy from the Salem Observer.

TREATING.
Alas, for the days of 'treating'! Temperance Societies and cold water, have broken up and almost extinguished the venerable old custom of treating—general, and upon all occasions.
Once upon entering a friend's house, no sooner was the salutatory shake over, than the social cup was presented; and upon parting, he, who refused to proffer, was guilty of the violation of hospitality, and he, who refused to partake in the valedictory rite, left behind him the reputation of being unsocial and ill bred. Now one meets with a cold reception, and a dry parting. The custom, to be sure, muddled the ideas a little, but what was wanting in clearness was made up in warmth
Did old acquaintances meet after a long separation,—perhaps in the street; what was to be done?—why, to be sure, repair to the first bar-room, and there awaken dormant reminiscences of 'old lang syne' by the talismanic bowl,—'drawn out' sleeping recollections, as hunters are wont to unburrow wood-chucks, by pouring in plentifully some liquid element into their hiding places.
Did fortune turn up good luck to any one, he was forthwith expected to pour out a libation at this altar of custom, and call his neighbors around to rejoice with him. We once lived in a manufacturing village, at the age when 'treating' was the order of the day, and many a merry meeting it made. Did a man's birth day come round, the anniversary must be marked by a general treating—the blue flame must be burnt at the shrine of Bacchus. Perhaps he was in the line of military promotion ;—upon a new election, the commission must be "wet down,"—the uniform sponged, or it would be liable to be spotted; and woe to him that was niggard on such occasions.
Did a new comer, "a wee bit of thing," come into the village, the tidings were no sooner announced, than he, in whose house the little sojourner had happened to take up his abode, must array the decanters, lemons, and sugar, to have the event duly christened. A husking, a raising, no matter what the occasion, glad or gloomy, the treat was indispensable. The custom, to be sure, was often attended with accidents, sometimes with quarreling, and trained up, at least, one half of the population in the way of drunkenness, but it was custom and sanctioned by all.
Alas, for the days of treating! business the other day led us to the same neighborhood;— the old race had passed away, and with them the convivial custom—some to death, and some to poverty and the poor-house. Upon inquiry, we found that treating had become obsolete, and drinking out of fashion—labor was now pursued, and friendly sociability sustained without the exhilarating treat. We thought, but it may have been imaginary, that the people wore a neater and more healthy appearance, that the village looked brighter and more flourishing. The images, however, of merry makings, were before us, flushed faces, and uproariousness, when ourself with a dozen other urchins were suffered to linger round the scene, and perhaps invited to partake a little by the way of invitation;—and we thought of the days of "treating."