The Cass County Republican. [volume] (Dowagiac, Mich.) 18??-1880, 1859-09-29

ter tea. 1 found John and his wife
alone. They had both been weeping,
though / could see At . glsaee that Ell
lens face was beaming with hope and !.
love. But, Oh! she was changed
sadly painfully so. They we're glad to
see me, and my hand was shaken
warmly. q raisse s a6f
"Dsar O., don't say . word of
the past, John urged, shaking my.hand
second time. 81 know you spoke
the truth FIVE years ago. 1 was going
down hill. But 1 hsve gone a. far as
I csn-here I stop at the foot. Every
thing is gone but my wife. / have
sworn and my oath shall be kept-El7
len and l are going to be happy now"
The poor fellow burst into tears;
Ellen followed suit-and I kept them
company. ] could not help crying.
like child. Ny God, what . sightf
The once noble, true man, 50 fallen
become . mere broken glsss-the last
fragment only rejecting the image it
once bore; poor supplicant at the,
foot of hopes, begging grain of
warmth for the hearts of himself and
wife. rs LEA
And how l have honored and loved
that man, and how love him still |
OIL how I hoped-aye, more than
hoped-I believed that he wonld be
saved. And, Is I gazed upon that
wife-so trusting, SO loving, SO true,
and SO hopeful, even in the midst Of
living desth-I prayed more fsrventlys
than l ever prayed before, that God
would hold him up-lead him back to
the top of the hill. "a as
In the morning / saw the children
grown to two intelligent boys and
though they looked pale and wan, yet
they smiled and seemed happy when
their father kissed them. When /
went away, John took me by the hard,
and the last words he said were: -
"Trust me. Believe me, now; I
will be man henceforth while life
lasts 70 sa t
A little over two years had passed,
when l read in newspaper the death
of Ellen Anderson. / started for the
town where they lived, as soon es pos
sible, thinking I might help-some one!
A fearful pressntiment possessed my
mind. -
"Where is John Anderson ?" ven-
tured to ask. @
"Don't know I'm sure. He's been
gone these three months. His wife
died in the mad house last week 70 gds
"And the children ?" ssl
cob they both died before she did,"
/ staggered back and hurried from
the place. / hardly knew which way /
went, bu: instinct led me to the church.
yard. l found four graves which had
been made in three years. The moth
er, wife, and children, slept in them. =
"Ah what has done this Pr l asked
myself. And voice answered from
the low sleeping place:
"The demon of the wine table !" +
But this was not all the work. No.
no. The next / saw-oh God !-was
far more terrible 1 saw it in the city
court room. But that was not the last |.
mot the last. re -
/ saw my legal friend on the day
following. He said John Anderson
was in prison. ! hastened to see him.
The turnkey conducted me to his cell
the key turned in the large lock;
the ponderous door with sharp crack
swung upon its hinges, and 1 saw .
dead body suspended by the neck
from a grated window! / looked at
the horrible face; ] could see nothing
of John Anderson there, but the face
l had seen in the court room was suf1i-
cient to connect the two and knew
that this was all that remained of him
whom had loved SO well. sE 9;5w
And that was the last of the de-
mons work; the last act in the terri
bic drama. All from the first sparkle
of the red wine it had been down,
down, down until the foot of the hill
had been finally reachedl
When l turned from the cell, and
once more walked amid the flashing
saloons and revel halls, / wished that
my voice had power to thunder tho
life story of which / had been wit
ness, in the ears of all living men.