The organ of the temperance reform. (Cincinnati, O. [Ohio]) 1852-1853, 1852-09-10
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''Helsn's wild sobs had ceased, and calmly
though sadly, she listened to her fathers earn
estaPpeal. A moment pause, and she answer
edin low, sweet tones:
"Never, father. Never, while the breath O.
life remains in my husband will | forsakt
him. Personal ill-treatment will not abatC
my affection, for it is not he, but the demon
who has for the time obtained possession Of
him, who would strike. But my child, my
sweet boy if this dreadful crises arrives, he
| shall be yours. His wretched mother will
leave him to the kind friends who would glad
| ly protect him; and oh, if possible, conceal
from him the MISERY and disgrace Of his
parents.
Much affected, Mr.. Meredith turned away,
and returned to acquaint the mother of Helen
with the result Of his mission.
Weeks, months, and even years passed on,
| and Henry Graham had not paused in his fear
ful course. As Mr.. Meredith had foretold
poverty and degradation had come upon him.
but still his gentle wife remained true to her
purpose; and to the continued entreaties of her
parents that she would come to them, or at
least permit them to take her innocent boy
from his miserable home, she answered with o
quiet smile:
"The time has not come yet, father. Henry
has never treated us with personal unkindness
Even III his widest moments, word from Inc
will often quiet him, and have seen tears on
his cheek when little Arthur kneels to repeat
his evening prayer. There is yet hope. His
heart is not utterly hardened. Surely you
| would not have me leave him to destruction
The shadow which has fallen upon us will pass
away, and we shall again be united in pur-
flied and exalted love-"
10 such appeals the father could only shake
his head mournfully, as if these were to him
vain anticipations.
Little could be done for Hclen's comfort,
| excepting to protect her from actual want; for
nothing which could be turad into money
was safe from the selfish gras 5f her husband
Even her own personal property, articles Of
| Jewelry, which she valued as Femembrancers
from those she loved, had, one by one, disap-
peared.
1t was near the close of q sultry summers
afternoon. Helen sat in her scantily furnish.
ed apartment with little Arthur, now lovely
hey Of fOnr years. by her side. The husband
and father was absent, and there was little
reason to expect him home until late hour oi
the night for midnight carOusing had now be.
come an habitual custom. Still there was
chance that he might return to the evening
meal; and Helen now laid aside her work, anG
rose to prepare the tempting mOrsel which sht
knew would suit his appetite, and also the
more simple refreshment for herself and hel
boy. 1t was her own choice to perform thii
task herself, for she shrunk from the thought
OF another witness to the constant degradation
of her husband. The oppressive state of tht
air increased the usual depressed state Of heI
spirits, and she signed so frequently and
heavily that little Arthur stole to her side, and
slipping his hand into hers, said softly:
Are you tired, mamma? will help yoI
set the table"
"Thank you, dearest" was the reply. 81
do not feel very well this evening. / shall bt
glad Of your help"
"You are not sick like poor father con.
tinued the little boy, as he carefully placed
the plates on the table. "Ie has been sick {
long time. How soon will he get well, man.
map
II do not know, dear. We will pray to
our Heavenly father for him.
''Yes, mamma, do always pray that the
Lord will make him better, and one day |
thought the Lord had heard my prayer, for
father patted my head and gave me some sugar
plums; and when | put my arms round his
neck aud kissed him, he cried Just as you do
sometimes, mamma; but he soon grew sick
again, and now he does not speak to me at
all.
Tears'rolled down the mother cheeks as she
listened to the artless prattle Of her pure
minded boy; but she endeavored to control
her feelings and bade the child still to pray
for his father, for, the Lord would always
hear his prayer and in His own good time
would make him well.
The beauty of the summers afternoon was
gone. The sky was completely overcast, and
one huge cloud Of frightful blackness was ra-
| - bn Nvfn ad
among the trees, and low peals of distant thun-
der were occasionally heard. There was every
prospect Of violent tempest and Helen has
tened her preparations for supper, in the hope
that her husband would seek refuge in his own
home. In this she was not disappointed. The
street door slammed heavily, and his we'll
known step was head in the entry. He came
in without apparent notice Of his wife or child,
and walked hurriedly to and fro in their
small apartment. Helen saw at once that he
had been drinking-not enough to appease
his unquenchable thirst, but sufficient to pro-
duce Irritation and partial arrangement Of
the senses.
At her well known sign, little Arthur seat
ed himself quietly in his chair, and with n
picture book in his hand, remained almost
inotionless. Half an hour passed, and the
| hurried walk was still continued. Helen s
|
ed, excepting by Tn inpatient gesture.
The storm had increased, and was now ra G.
ing fearfully..
Suddenly Henry paused, and turning to
Helen, demanded Il she had not in her posses
sion a golden lOcket containing his miniature
and hair.
Helen trembled. It was the last trinke,
she possessed, and it had been carefully pre-.
served that her boy might see what his father
had once been. She could not part with 4
even if she incurred his displeasure by a re.
fusal. Mildly she replied;
eyes, Henry, have the lOcket, am keep.
ing it for Arthur"
"Give it to me. II is no longer Of any
value to you or him, +" said her husband.
"In deed, Henry, it is Of inestimable yalu,
to me, and cannot think Of parting Will
lit"
The miserable man uttered an exclamation
| Of impatience. 'HA
"Have you any money thenl'' he continued
"S0methiRg l must have"
81 have no money, Henry. But come ant