The Kalida venture. [volume] (Kalida, Ohio) 1841-1865, 1845-04-25


He stood leaning upon broken gate in
front of his miserable dwelling. His tattered
hat was in his hand, and the cool breeze
lifted the matted locks which covered his
once noble brow. His countenance was
bloated and dsfgured; but in his eye there
was an unwonied look--a mingled express
sion of sadness and regre'. Perhaps hc
was listening to the low, melancholy voice
of his patient wife, as she soothcd the sick
babe on her bosom, or perchnnce he was
gazing upon the sweet face Of his eldest
daughter, as at the open window she piled
her needle to obtain for her mother aud the
poor children scanty snstcnancc. Poor
Mary! for herself she cared not: Young as
she was, her spirit was already crushed by
poverty, nkindness, and neglect. AS the
ncbriate thus stood his eyes wandered over
the miserable habitaton before him. The
windows were broken, and the doors hinge
less scarce a vostige of comfort remained;
yet memory bore him back 10 the days Of
his youth, when it was the abode Of peace
and happiness. IN fancy he saw again the
old arm chair where sat his father, with the
Bible upon his knee; and he seemed TO
hear again the sweet tones Of his mother, as
she laid her hand upon the head Of her dar,
ling boy, and prayed that God would bless
him and preserve him from evil. Long gears
had passed away, yet tears came into the
eyes of the drunkard at the recollection Of
his mothers love.
"Poor mother!" he muttored it is well
that thou art sleeping in thy grave; it would
break thy boart to know that thy son is 4
wrotchod and degraded bcing--a miserable
outcast from society"
He turned slowly away. Deep within an
adjoining forest was dell whore the beams
of the sun scarce ever penetrated. Tall
trees grew on either side, whose branches.
meeting above, formed canopy Of leaves,
where the birds built their ncsis, and poured
forth their happy songs. Thither the drunk.
ard bent his steps. 1t had been his favori'c
haunt in the days of his childhood, and as he
threw himself upon the soft green sward
the recollectons Of past scenes came crowd
ing over his mind. lie covered his face
with his hands, and the prayer of the prodi
gal burst from his lips" o God, receive ;
returning wandercrr' Suddenly a soft arm
was thrown around his neck. and swce
voice murmured, "He will forgive you
father" Starting to his feet, the incbriat
saw standing before him his syoungest daugh
ter, child Of six years.
"Why are you here, Anne?" he said
, ashamed that the innocent child should hav
witnessed his grief
" Il came TO gather the lilies which groN
upon the banks" she replied; "see, hav
got my basket full, and now | am going
, sell them"
: "And what do you do with the money?
r asked the father, as he turned his eyes
c the basket, where among their broad gree
d leaves the sweet lilies of the valley wer
! peepng forth.
d The child hesitated: she thought she ha
It said too much; perhaps her father wouI
: demand the money and spend it in the wa
!, in which all his earnings went.
"You are afraid to tell me, Anne" sa
o her father, kindly. dwell, I do not blar
C you; have no right to my children's con
10 dence."
lie The gentleness of his tone touched Il
G. heart of the ahectionate child. She thre
Us her arms around his neck. cxclaminG,
10 "Yes, father, I will tell you. Mother bu
= medicines for poor little Willie. We ha
I'd no other way to get it. Mother and Ma
I'd work all the time they can get 10 buy bread
Ie A pang shot through the inebriate's hea
to I" have robbed them Of the comforts Of life
,el he exclaimed; from this moment the liqu
e.. fire passes my lips no more"
Anne stood gazing at him in astonishmel
il She could scarcely comprehend her fatho
~ words; but she saw that some change h
to taken place. She threw back her gold
II, ringlets, and raised her large blue eyes wi
IL an earnest look, to his face.
I'd "WilI you never drink any more rum
y she whispered, tmidlv.
m "Ncrcr! Anne" her father replied,
ST lcmnly.
Joy danced in her eyes. "Then We W
Y all be so happy" she cried, "and moth
le won't weep any more: oh father, what
lis happy home ours will bem Years pass
away. The words of little Anne, the drum
ards daughter, had proved true. The hor
an of the reformed man, her father, was indc
ld happy one. Plenty crowned his boat
ie and health and Joy beamcd from the face
&c his wife and childrcn-where once squa
misery alone conld be traced. The Pied
had raised him from his degradation, a
he restored him once more to peace and hap
of uess.--Norwich Spec.
Id RAISING THE wIND.-A loafer, housel
Va and ragged, applied TO a magistrate, in b
N. tirnnrn for admissinn into The aims hoM