Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1856-10-29
CHAPTER VIII.

Time rolled on, and Horace Laverne still
continued to drink Without employment
and without income, his scanty means were
soon exhausted. With neither money nor
credit, absolute want was staring him in the
face. Home was unpleasant to him, for
he there saw the wretchednesss of his wife
and child and, strange infatuation he
fed for relief to the intoxicating cup, as
though pouring the fiery liquid down his
throat would put food into their mouths
Thought was miserable to aim, and he drank |.
to drown it. STEPPED in drunkenness, he
neither thought nor felt; and when suGi-
ciently sober to comprehend the situation
of his family, its contemplation again drove
him to bury it in the forgetfulness of in
toxication
Mrs. Laverns was driven to taking in
sewing and other wo:k in order to obtain
scanty livelihood. Their cottage and fur.
niture were sold, theiy servants taken from
them, and they now reside in a weather.
beaten, uncomfortable hut, with barely
enough furniture TO supply the most urgent
wants. 0ftentimes when one meal was ca
ten, they knew not where the next vas to
come from. Abject poverty, with all its
inconvenience, and even its terrors, was
weighing upon them. Former friends, or
those who pretended to be such, forsook
them. Those, who in prosperity had COW
eted them and fawned upon them, now
s ood aloof and disdained to enter tn cir
humble dwelling. The clouds of adversely
had driven them all away, although moth
ing could be said against Mrs. Laverne.-
The shadow of her husbands degradation
rested upon her, and she was doomed,
though pare and innocent, to suffer from
the consequences. For herself she could
, endure all, but for the sake of her child i,
: Oh how bitterly she mourned. For that
child she lived and desired to live; but it
was only link that bound her to life,
and 1t was deeply notifying to think that
her little Marion, her pride and hope, must
t assume position in society lower than the
/ highest.
5 So goes the world wealth is respecta-
q bility; poverty disgrace Clothe villainy
e in broadeloath and give it full purse, and
it will pass current; but dress worth and
n virtue in rags and none will acknowled dge
it. Such is society
Vain were the entreaties of the wife and
: the gentle pleadings Of the child, whom
r sorrow had prematurely matNred. Had
e Horace laverne been a man of less refined
h feelings, less acute sensibilities, he might
= have acted otherwise but without friends
y without resources, nationality was tormen
d he c6ald not endure, and he plunged into
IS the vertex of spirit. madness to escape the
{, pangs of reason.
> 1t was bitter cold day about year af
Sc ter the opening of our story that Mrs. La
r verne and her daughter were sitting shiv
cYing over few embers, when her husband
r whom she had not seen for two days, en-
IN tered He was cool and rational, and th
er shade upon his brow told how deeply h
ID felt He seated himself near his wife ant
nc sat with dropping head, and in silence. Th
tears swelled into Mrs. Lavernes eyes, an,
er little Marion, seeing her mother weep, wep
to also
1t 20 God 7 groancd the wretched man
wv what shall do?'
it Mrs Laverne clasped her arms aTonn
be him, and falling on her knees before hin
20 my husband let me implore you
to drink no more. You know not how lone
he y and miserable am. For my sake you
at own sake, aud for the sake of our darlin
en- child, break loose from the habit of drink
'ff ing.
he What can do2' groaned the husband
iv- : can get no employ mcnt by which TO ear
os- a support, [ have not friend on cart
save you; and it is only to escape the fa
er, of the maniac that resort to Temporal
las insanity
ser Drink 20 more plead tho wife, ar
res happiness will soon be restored to US. Yc
ON have talents that can be turned to mob
es. uses. / will cheerfully labor, even dav al
to night, and will feel proud to do it, if c;
only have your society, add to your comic
for and bring back the old-time love and co
for 6dence. Peace and plenty will soon ST
ind round us, and smiles of contentment W
the again wreath our lips. Do you not !
ed. . member, love, the happy nights when
old sat by our own ireside and read and ia
yes ed 2
BOT 80 torture me not with their memor
em, cried he; 'it is like heaping burning co