Glasgow weekly times. (Glasgow, Mo.) 1848-1861, 1852-08-19
From Arthur'S Home Gazette.
THE DOOR IN THE HEART.


"She was stern, hard woman! But far away
up great many pairs of winding STAIRS in her heart
was a door, easily passed by and on the door was
W itten-W -WoMAN."-[ Boz.
"And so it is with the drunkard. Far away up
great many pair Of winding stairs in his heart is
door, and that door is written man, and we must
knock at that door once, twice. seven times; yea
seventy times seven, that it may open unto u.s.
John B. Cough.
He was an old man. Not so old either
for the wrinkles that marred his cadever-
Gus visage were not the autograph that
Times fingers had laid there; and the hand
that placed upon the low table the we'll
drained glass, did not trcmble SO with the
weakness that age induces; yet very old
and very wretched looked the sole occupant
of that narrow room. with its red curtains
and floor stained with tobacco juice, and an
atmosphere abundantly seasoned by the bar
room into which it opened. A hat Git must
have been intended for one) half concealed
the owners lmcombcd locks, and unmstak-
able evidence of a familiar acquaintance
with '.brickbats and the gutter" did the
same hat produce. Then there was a coat
out of whose sleeves peeped a pair of ell
bows in rejoicing consciousness that they
"could afford to be out" Add to these a
shabby pair of faded pants, and.you have,
reader, a tout ensemble of the wretched being
who had Just commenced his daily potations
in the only grog shop he was allowed TO fire.
quent And yet the wretched, friendless
creature that sat there half stupiiied with
the effects of his morning dram, had heart,
and far up a great many pairs of winding
stairs in that heart was door, easily passed
bv, and OH that door, covered with cobwebs
and dust, of Time and Sin, was written
"MAY!" But nobody dreamed Of this, and
when the Temperance men, had gone to
him with the pledge. and promised him en-
ployment and responsibility if he would sign
it and others (well meaning men too) had
rated him soundly for his evil ways, and he
had turned deaf ear TO all these things. and
gone back with blind pcrtinacity TO his cups
again, every body said old Billy Strong
case was a hopeless one.
All. none of these had patiently groped
their way up the hearts winding stairs and
read the inscription on the hidden door
there. But while the unhappy man sat by the
pine table that morning, the bar-keeper
suddenly entered followed by lady with a
pale, high brow, mild hazel eyes, and a
strangely, winning expression on her pen
sive face. The old man looked up with a
vacant stare of astonishment, as the bar
keeper offered the lady chair, and pointed
TO the occupant of the other, saying:
"That's Billy Strong, ma am" and with
lingering glance of curiosity, left that gen.
tie woman alone with the astonished and
now thoroughly sobered man.
The soft eyes of the lady wandered with a
sad, pitying expression, over old Bills tea-
lures, and then in a low sweet voice, she
asked:
cam rightly informed? Do l address
Mr.. William Strong?"
All! with those words the lady had got
further up the winding stairs, nearer the
hidden door than all who had gone before
| her.
Yes, that is my name, ma am" said old
Bill, and he glanced down at his shabby
attire, and actually tried to hide the elbow
which was peeping out fartheSt, for it was a
long time since he had been addressed by
that name, and somehow it sounded very
pleasant to him.
Il am very glad to meet you Mr.. Strong,
said the lady. 81 have heard my father
speak of YOU so often, and of the days when
you ard he were boys together, that | al
! | hope YOU surely cannot have forgotten
Charles Morrison?"
"No! no! Charlie and used to be old
cronies," said old Bill, with sudden ami
nation, and a light in his eye, such as had
not been there for many day, except when
ran, lent it fitful briliancy.
All. the lady did not know, as perhaps
the angels did, that she had mounted tho
stairs, and was softly feeling for that un,
seen door, so she went on:
IL almost feel as if | could see the old spot
upon which your homestead stood, Mr.
Strong, | have heard my father describe il
so often. The hill, with its crown of ole
oaks at the back of your house, and the field
of golden harvest grain that waved in front
Then there was the green grass plat before
the front door, and the huge old apple tree
that threw lis shadows across it, and thC
spring that went shining and singing through
> the bed of mint at the side of the house"
Old Bill moved uneasily in his chair anC
, the muscles around his mouth twichcd oc
casionally; but unmindful of this, in thr
same low melting tones, the lady kept on:
"Many and many We're the hours st
father would say, "Willc and used #
pass under the shadow of the old apple tree
playing at hide-anG-seek, or lolling on tn
; grass, telling each other the wonders w
would achieve when we become men; AM
when the sunset laid its crown of gold ol
the top of The oaks on the hill, l can see vii
lies mother standing in the front door
; with her white cap and check apron, an,
the pleasant smile that always lay aroun
her lips, and hear her cheerful voice callin
come boys, come to supper"
Oneafter another, the big, warm, blesse
tears came rolling down old Bills pal
cheeks. All! the lady had found the doc
then.
II was always at home, at Willie's,
father would say, "and used to have m
: bowl of fresh milk, and bread too, and whe