Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1842-12-30
BY VIM. Il. RY THEIR.
TIE DRUNKARD's DEATH.

with grapnlC skill anu great aoilly thc slON
but constant process Of cruelty by which "A
drunken clergyman had murdered his wife
while the son, young man, was at school.
In the Nov. number it is concluded. The
clergyman persuades his daughter to bring
home her brother to attend the funeral, SOL
EMMY promising to abstain from all harsh or
her brother, finds that he, too has become
the victim of the wine-cup, and returns to
her home. The sad tale then proceeds"
The morning for my mothers funeral ar
rived My pen faters, and refuses to trace
the narrative which it sickens me to recall.
And yet it must be told. | have brought you
to the climax of human wretchedness. Read
and believe. tell you that the strange tale
is true--horrible it may be, it is-and yet
have survived it. Who doubts lis authenti-
city? Let him carry it to the drunkard's
habitation, and call around him first the mis-
cradle wife, and then the sobbing children,
and let him astound their ears with the his
tory that is their own. Oh, think not for an
instant that exaggeration deiorms the un-
slightly picture. The uglness surpasses not
the truth. Would that both could strike the
conscience of one domestic murderer with
effectual sorrow and remorse. The morning
of the funeral had come. Ten o'clock had
struck, and my brother had not yet appear
ed. He had arrived from school late on the
preceding evening, and had retired immedi-
atcly to rest | had received him, for my
father had gone to his bed some hours be-
fore. / told him that our breakfast hour
was nine o'clock, and he promised to meet
his father at the breakiast-table. l did not
sleep that night How could /! walked
restlessly about my room, longing for the
morning to come, dreading its approach, and
growing more and more anxious and alarm
ed as the clock warned me at intervals of its
advance At six o'clock | rose. Another
sleeper in the house had been disturbed be-
fore me, and was already moving. This was
my father found him in his library. He
looked pale and weried, and his usual ,re-
NOR unhnged his whole frame. When | o.
pcned the door of the apartment, he started
from his seat, and was frightened
"Ah-yes," said he, recovering himself,
at is you be seated, Emma He has
come, Of course?"
ale has" answered.
"W ell-and he is well-disposed, is tran
quill, as he should be on the sad occasion z"
ale has said little" replied. ale has
not yet risen. 1t was late last night when
he reached home"
"Well, | shall see him soon. Does he re-
turn tomorrow
at is his intention"
"Good. He will be soon provided for. /
Al G. :. T.
da Tell him So 1t is better that he should
pass the little time that he will remain in
England away from home. 1t may save a
breach / cannot brook contradictions |
do not wish to gall and irritate him. He is
over-hasty, | have heard Blu, he seems
peaceabe, and disposed to keep so, l think
you said ?"
Early as it was, the wine bottle was al
ready on the table.
Father" said |, pointing to it, "what is
that?"
mot another drop" he exclaimed impress
sively; "not sup" as | am living man.
| should have shaken TO pieces had not APP
peased the nerves with one draught. But
have swallowed it, and am quiet l shall
taste no more; take it away" At the very
moment that he made this request, and as
approached the table to comply with it, he
raised the decanter mechanically, and pour
ed from its contents another glass FULL
Without a word or a sign, and as if uncon-
scious Of the act, he drank it off, To such
an extent was he the slave of habit, that am
satisfied he was ignorant of having transgress-
ed the rule which he had laid down for him
self the very second before.
Father" said |, for Heavens sake be
cautious Who shall answer for the effects
of a single dram? Cease to be master of
Yourself and | foresee the consequences.
As sure as | am speaking, there will be mis-
chief that never can be forgotten or repaired.
Be warned in time, and avoid tonight the
furious nsensibiity, from which you will
wake tomorrow to imprecate yourself, and
loathe the very light in which you walk For
your own sake be advised, and flee, for this
one day at least, from the horrible tempta-
ton"
"Oh, trust me!'' answered my father, made
uneasy by the terms in which had ventured
10 address him, "trust mel will be wise
Here-take the key of the cellar. Let one
bottle of wine remain for dinner. Produce
no more. If | ask for more, refuse it. You
have me in your keeping. 1t is for you to
prevent the mischief that you dread"
secured the key with eagerness, and la
king him at his word, placed beyond his
reach every means of gratifying the nsatia-
BILE lust. Breakfast was announced, and
Frederick still was absent. l could not eat.
Food had never been acceptable to my ia
Their so early in the day. We sat in silence,
and the cloth was removed untouched by Ell