The Cass County Republican. [volume] (Dowagiac, Mich.) 18??-1880, 1860-11-29

while his mother shook her head and
said:
"He'll SOW these wild oats soon.''
My darling can never be a bad man.
"God grant it! l thought to my
self; and | knew the same prayer was
trembling upon Ellen's lips.
1t was late when we retired, and we
might not have done so then, had not
John fallen asleep in his chair.
On the following morning walked
out with my friend. told him / was
sorry to see him as / saw him the night
before.
"Oh p said he with light laugh,
"oh that was nothing. Only little
wine party. We had glorious time.
| wish you had been there"
AT first / thought | would say no
more but was it not my duty? | knew
his nature better than he knew it him
self. His appetite and pleasure bound
ed his own visions. / knew how kind
and generous he was-alas too kind,
too generous.
"John, could you have seen Ellen's
face last evening, you would have trem-
bled. Can you make her unhappy"
He stopped me with
"Don't be fool. Why should she
be unhappy 2"
Because she fears you are going
doyn hiu." | told him.
Did she say so ?" he asked with a
flushing face.
"No; | read it in her looks" said.
Perhaps reflection OF your own
thoughts" he suggested.
"Surely, thought SO when you came
home," | replied.
Never can | forget the look he gave
me then-so full of reproof, OF surprise
and pain.
&C, l forgive you, for ! know
you to be my friend but never speak
to me like that. | going down hill !?
You. know better. That never can be.
/ know my own power, and | know my
wants. My mother knows me better
than Ellen does.'
Ah-had that mother been as wise
as she was loving, she would easily have
seen that the " wild oats" he was sow
ing would grow up and ripen to furn-
ish only seed for re-sowing. But she
loved him-loved him almost blindly.
But | could say no more | only
prayed that God would guard him, and
then we conversed on other subjects.
/ could spend but day with him, but
we promised to correspond often.
Three years more passed, during
which John Anderson wrote to me at
least once month, and oftener some
times; but at the end of that time his
letters ceased coming, and received
no more for two years, when again
found myself in his native town. It
was early in the afternoon when | ar
rived, and | took dinner at the hotel.
| had finished my meal and was
lounging in front of the hotel, when |
saw a funeral procession winding into
a distant church yard. / asked the
landlord whose funeral it was.
Mrs. Anderson's," he said /; and as
he spoke | noticed slight dropping
of the bead, as if it cut him to say SO.
What! John Anderson's wife," |
ventured.
"No," he said, "it is his MOTHER"
and as he told me this he turned away
But a gentleman near by, who had
heard our conversation, at once took up
the subject again.
"Our host don't seem much inclined
to converse upon that subject" he re
marked with shrug, inquiring, "did
you know John Anderson ?"
s'lIe was my schoolmate in boyhood
and my bosom friend i'll youth," l told
him.
He led me one side, and spoke as
follows:
"Poor John! He was the pride of
the town six years ago. This man
opened his hotel at that time aud
sought custom by giving wine suppers.
John was present at many of them
the gayest of the gay, and the most
generous of the party. In fact he paid
for nearly all of them. Then he began
to go down hill, and has been going
ever since. At times, true friends
have prevailed on him to stop, but his
stops were of short duration. A short
season of sunshine would gleam npon
his home, and then the night came,
more dark and dreary than before.
''He said he never would get drunk
again-but still he would take glass
OF wine with a friend! That glass of
wine was but the gate that led in the
flood. Six years ago he was worth
sixty thousand dollars. Yesterday he
borrowed the sum of fifty dollars to
pay his mothers funeral expenses!
That poor mother bore up as loug as
she could. She saw her son-her
darling boy,'' as she always called
him, brought home drunk many times.
And, she even bore blows from him!
But now she is at rest. Her darling
wore her life away, and brought her
gray hairs in sorrow to the grave! Oh!
/ hope this may reform him -
''But his wife ?" | asked.
sHer heavenly love has held her up
this far, but she is only shadow of the
wife she was six years ago."
My informant was deeply affected,
and so was l consequently asked no
more.