The Evansville daily journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ia. [i.e. Ind.]) 1848-1862, 1859-03-21
Little Willie.

!
l On looking lad pass by with gallon oil can
in his hand His tattered garments were
/ well calculated to excite observation and
Il pity. It was but too evident that the vessel
I which he carried had been diverted from its
\ legitimate use, and that It was now used
\ not as an oil can but as a whisky Jug
Having seen him pass twice in one day with
Il his ever present can we had the curiosity to
aecost him, and did so by inquiring hisres-
/ Z" live," said he, g FIVE miles from the
city, on the 49, road y e9z.5sssf ~ =.
@ You have been to the city once before
to-day, have YOU not r.
Yes, sir, | came down in the morning.
| but couldn't get what | was sent for, and
4 ] had to come again: a3
q What was you sent for my lad 1t
must be something very important, to make
IL necessary for you to walk twenty miles in
this storm" szs
3 Why, sir, it was whisky | was sent
for. Father had no money, and he sent me
10 Mr.----s, to get trusted; but he wouldn't
trust any more, SO had to come home
| without the whisky, but father sent me back
] again"
4 s5 How do you expect to get it now, when
/ YOU couldn't get it in the morning p r
/ q Why, sir, have brough a pair of shoes,
/ which sister sent to mother. Mr.. - will
give whisky for them. He has got two or
three pairs of mothers shoes now"
/ | Do you like to carry whisky home, my
boy % 5..s ISL
!" o, no. sir, for it makes all so unhappy !;
but | can't help it,
We took the responsibility of advising
4 e.Rc 4. =
home with him. The family we found con-
sisted of husband, wife and four children;
the oldest (tke boy) was not more than ten
years of age, whilst the youngest was an
infant of few months. II was a cold
clustering day. The north wind blew
harshly, and came roughly and unbidden
| through the numberless erevices of the poor
mans hoyel. A few black embers occupied
/ the fire place, around which were huddled
| the half naked children, and the woe
/ stricken mother and wife. Her face was
haggard, her eyes sanken, her hair dishesel-
led, her clothes tattered and unclean.
q She was seated upon an old broken chair,
a.nd was mechanically swinging to and fro,
/ as if endeavoring TO quiet her infant, which
rnoaned pitifully in its mothers arms. 1t
! had been sick from its birth, and was now
seemingly struggling TO free itself from the
harsh world into which it had, but few
months previous been ushered. There was
no tear in the eye of the mother as she gaz-
ed on her expiring babe. The fountain had
long since been dried up by the internal
fires which alcohol had kindled and fed
She was the picture of despair; and we
could not but fancy, es she sat thus, that her
mind was wandering back to the happy
past-the days of her infancy and girlhood,
and her early home. Poor thing She had
given her affections and her Land to man
! who had taken the first steps in intemper-
ance. She had left her home full of buoy
ant hopes-never to be realized-to spend
alife of misery with a sot. Broken hearted,
cast out from the society of her former
triends-frowned upon by the " good So
ciety humane--spoken of as the miserable
/ wife of a miserable drunkard-with no
other hand to help, no other heart to pity
she very soon became tippler and drunk
ard herself.
4 By the side of this woe-smitten mother
kneeled little girl of FIVE years, down
whose sallew cheeks tears were coursing,
and who ever and anon exclaimed, "Poor
little Willie, must you diel - and then kiss
ing the clammy sweat from "little Willie's :"
apron, and wept.
In the opposite corner of the chimney,
4 and among the ashes which covered the
hearth, sat boy of about seven years,
dragging from the half-dead embers po-
tato which he broke open with the remark,
" Mother, give this to little Willie; may be
he's hungry. I'm hungry, too, and so is
sister; but Willie is sick Give him this
potato, mother"
"No, poor boy" said the mother, /" il
lie will never be hungry again. He uiH soon
be dedd
This remark drew all the children around
her and the dying child. The father was
sitting upon what was intended for bed
stead, without his shoes or coat, with his
hands thrust into his pockets, apparently
indifferent to all that was passing around
him. His head was resting upon bis breast
and his eyes were fastened upon the floor
as ii he was afraid to look up ut the sorrow,
ing group who were watching the scounte
, nance of the dying infant.
There was moment of silence Not :
sound was heard. Even the sobs of the lit
tie girl had ceased. Death was crossing th,
/ novels threshold The very respiration Q
. the household seemed suspended, when
!. slight shivering of the limos of the infant
: and shrek from the half-conscious meth
) er, told all that the vital spark had fed.
For the first time the father moved
Slowly advancing to where his wife wa
seated, with euivering lips he whispered
+" Is Willie dead?''
; Yes, james, the poor babe is dead
was the choking reply of the mother, VIII,
still sat, as AT trst, gazing upon the face G
her little one.
Without uttcrlng another word, the lon
brutalized father lett the house, mutterin
as he went, My Coz, now ioeg?
AT this nloibent II kihd-heartrdla lady cam
in who had heard but a few moments be
fore, of the dangerous illness of tie child
ohs had brought with her some medicine
but ier an, o. visit was too late. The gen
tie spirit Of the babe was fled, and there re
ma nj d for her but 10 comfort the living
This she did, while we followed the father
We related To him the circumstances whic
led us to his house, and briefly spoke of tn
misery which inevitably foIlowsin the wax
OF intemperance-
al know il, sir, said he; have lon
known it, have not always been wha
you see me- Alcohol and my appetite hav