Indiana American. [volume] (Brookville, Ind.) 1833-1861, 1853-11-11
T emperance:
The eRumsseiier ana his vitim i'm N
village grave yard. nt0u
ScESE-A Graveyard.
PERsoNAE-A Rumseller.
-rr drunL,rd,, xxy;.l,~x,


village grave yard. naau
ScEsE-A Graveyard.
s DRAMATrs PERsoxAE-A Rumseller.
n ~ l A drunkard's Widow.
(Fnter Rumseller, approaching the
gate Of the graveyard.) "Why here is
the graveyard, I've walked smart to get
out so far as this. Guess I'll go in and
look round little on the new tombs.--
Rather gloomy, :. though! I. don't fancy
graveyard 1t always makes me feel
qualmish TO get among dead people
I'll Just go and look at Esquire Hobson's
new tomb: they say it's very fine."-
(Goes ip.) 80 dearl This Is dull. My
spirits always sink down TO zero in
grveyard wish men didn't die
What's that! thought saw something
glide behind that stone! Wonder lift
was a ghostl Pshaw! l don't believe
in ghosts. But here is a new grve. AS
sure as life this Is poor Tom Crobbe's
gravel Poor Tom. wllnt Jolly feilw he
wasl How his fat sides used 10 shake
when he spun of those dry yarns in my
bar-room. He was the life OF the party
in those days. But 1t is good while
since Tom was fat. Yes, Tom Crabbs
was fool; he drank too much. But then
I've got his farm, and no mistake, Still
| wish poor Tom hadn't died on my door
step never felt so queer in all my life
as did when saw that horrible corpsel
What could have brought him TO my door
step to diel How his great dead eyes
did stare at me! No matter where |
stood in the room, they followed me.
What's that! (Hc starts and looks
round.) 81 thought Il heard something
cry murder in my earl Pooh, I'm fool!
IL was only the wind moaning among
the leaves Of that willow wish they
wouldn't plant trees in graveyards.
believe IN getting nervous! What's
that! NO, not nervous, but guilty.
Where did that thought come 'front.'
That's horrid word! Guilty! Bu. what
fits truei Didn't II use to tempt Tom
Crabbel Yes, and Ned Boxer, and Har-
ry Smollett, and score more. Where
are they now! Here they lie all around
me. / wish men would not die drunk
ards. Confound II, if there's hell. II
thei e is! Won't il be terriblel How
can / meet those poor fellows there.--
o, there's blood on my conscience! I'll
drop the business. My poor wife has
almost cried her eyes out because
wouldn't. I'll do IL. What did | sayl
Drop the businessl All, then the money
won't come! What's the usel | must
have money; beside, IL don't sell others
will. I'll sell on, and risk IL. SO here s
get clear of these graveyard blues
Who's that comingl It's woman
What poor creaturel She has seen
trouble, l know. All, it's poor Tom
Crabbe's widow. can't face her. o,
how feel! Ten thousand furies are In
my heart. wish men wouldn't drink
themselves to death! wish there was
no conscience! no death! no hellp'-
(Exeunt Rumseller by side path)
(Enter the drunkard's Widow She so.
liloquizes. 40 my heart! my heart!--
How dreadfully are my spirits oppressed!
Whould that life's path were all tray.
elled, and lay beside my poor ruinet
husband! What Is life to me nowl-
Thomas Is dead My dear little Charlie
is gone, and my sweet Alice Is in hel
grve tool And am the drunkard'l
widow None care for me now. Will
wasted health, and bitter poverty, am
lonely, forsaken aud desplsedl D m,
heartl How IL swells! o how heavy Il
the weight which rests upon III IL was
not always thus. MOI No! When
stood up in my fathers house as III,
bride Of Thomas Crabbe, was praised
loved and admired. Now! who piiIel
mel All, my Thomas they ruined the,
with wine! But for tempters, all ha,
been we'll now How they change,
thee Kind as love Itself, they mad,
thee fercier than lion. They are /,
blame. That soulless man az the tayerl
did IL. All! that is hel Surely Il ls.-
He dures to stand at my murdered hus
bands grave, Let me confront him.
(She approaches tho gave az the Rum
seller rtlres. With clasped hands, .sk
leans against a tomb, her eyes fixed OF
her husbands grave, and again soliloqui
zesD ,....... +.
"He win not face mel No, hc dare
not. But Is Il possible that my poo
husband and babies lie herci Alasl q
Il Thomas had only died a ChrstIanl-
This Is the drunkard's grave, and my ow
, noble husband llls IL. Would IL woul
!, all prove a bitter dream Those blows
! that gradual ruin, my dear children
death, that morning scene at the taver
, where they ioundhlm dead, these rags !
: IL not all a droaml Aasl no--no--nS
, This burning brain, this bursting hear
these falling limbs prove all to be roalIt,
Ahl ahl | an tho drunkarks widowl {
Q I shall 70 madl Yes, madl But b
calm, my hoart Tho shrugged Is noarl
over. am dying fast. Igrow weake
? every day, and In Heaven there Is rest,
9 (IIote food Of tears relieved tho widow
y She goes home to her garrot awhile at
= then 10 div.) .fuf Batst tiIt na
: Query whsso 10 the preferable 10
Q that OF the Runseller or hIs yetml
a ~