Cedar Falls gazette. [volume] (Cedar Falls, Iowa) 1860-1895, 1860-03-30

| Never can forget the look he gave m
then, SO full o! reproof, of surprise, Of pain
Cd, forgive you, far know you t
be my friend but never speak to me lik,
that. going down hill! You know better
That can never be. know my own power
and know my wants. Ny mother know!
me better than Ellen does"
Ah had that mother been as wise as sht
was loving; she would have seen that thC
wild oats" which her son was sowing woult
grow up and ripen to furnish seed only fol
resolving! But she loved him--loved hin
almost too well, or should say too blindly
But could say no more-I only prayed
that God would guard him, and then we con
ycrscd on other subjects. | could spend bu,
day with him, but we promised to cores
pond often.
Three years more passed, during which John
Anderson wrote to me Mt least cnce a month
and ottener 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. 1t was early in
the afternoon when / arrived, and took din
ner at the hotel.
had finished my meal and was loungire
in front of the hotel, when | saw funeral
procession winding into distant churchyard.
| asked the landlord whose funeral it was.
"Mrs. Anderson's," he said. AS he spoke
noticed a slight dropping of the head, as il
it cut him to say so.
"Whet, John Anderson S wife 2" Iventured
"No," he said, !" it is his mother" and as
he told me this he turned away; but a gen.
tleman near by who overheard our conversa-
ton at once took up the theme
"Our host don't seem inclined to converse
on that subject" he remarked with shrug,
inquiring, Did you know John Anderson 2"
He was my schoolmate in boyhood, and
my bosom friend in youth" told him.
Poor John! He was the pride of the town
six years ago. This man opened the hotel at
that time, and 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 60 down hill
Since, at times, true friends have prevailed on
him to stop, but his stops were Of short du-
ration. A short season of sunshine would
gleam upon his home, and then the night
came more dark and dreary than before. He
said he would never get drunk again, but still
he would take glass Of wine with friend
That glass of wine was but the gate that let
in the food. Six years ago he was worth
sixty thousand dollars. Yesterday he bor-
rowed the sum of fifty dollars to pay his
mothers funeral expenses. That poor moth
er bore up as long as she could. She saw
her son-her darling boy as she always
called hinl-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 sor-
rnvy fo tho oh 7 ho,,a ,,,axy M
| form him."
But his wife9" asked.
Her heavenly love has held her up thus
| far, but she is only the Shadow Of the wife
she was six years ago." he returned.
| My informant was deeply affected, and so
was I consequently asked no more.
During the remainder of the afternoon l
debated with myself whether to call upon
John at all. But finally resolved to go,
though waited till after tea found John
and his wife alone. They had both been
weeping, though could see at single glance
that Ellen's face was bcaming with hope and
love. But oh! she was changed sadly,
painfully SO. They were glad to see me. and
my hand was shakr warmly.
-'" Dear C., don't say word of the
past" John urged, shaking my hard second
time. 4 know you spoke the truth i've
years ago. l aeas going down hill. But |
have gone as far as I can-hcre stop at the
foot. Everything is gone but my wife,
have sworn, and my oath shall be kept-El-
len and l are going to be happy now"
The poor fellow burst into tears, Ellen fol-
icwed suit, and I kept their company. |
could not .h...In crying like child My God,
what sight! The once noble, true man so
fallen-becomc msre broken glass the last
fragment only rejecting tic image it once
bore; suppliant at the foot of hopa; begging
grain Of warmth for the hearts of himself
and wife! And how had honored and loved
that man! And Eow j loved him still! Oh
hoped--ay, more than hopcd--I believed
that be would be saved. And as gazed
upon that wife--so trusting, SO loving, so
true, and SO hopeful, even in the Eaidst OF
| living deatli-I prayed more fcryently than
| ever prayed before, that God would hold
him up-and lead him back to the top of the
hill.
In the morning saw the children-srown
to two intelligent boys; and though they
looked nale and wan, yet they smiled and
seemed happy when their father kissed them.
When | went away John took me by the
| il~iiu dllu tiiC NtSI WOIuS III Sltlu were
Trust me; believe me now. will be a
man henceforth while life lasts.n
A little over two years had passed, when |
read in a newspaper the death OF Ellen An
derson. 1 started for the town where they
had lived as soon as possible, thinking might
help some one! A fearful prcscntment pos
sessed my mind.
Where is John Anderson - was my first
question.
Don't know. He's been gone these last
three months. His wife died in the mad.
house last week"
"And the children"
"Oh they both died before she did,"
/ staggered back and hurried from the
place. hardly knew which way went
but instinct led me - the churchyard.
found four graves which had been made in
three years. The mother, wife, and two
children slept in them.
i And what has done this ~ asked my.
SELF And voice answered from the lowly
resting places: s
/ The demon Of the wine-table,w
But this was not al the work. No! no.
The next saw-oh, God, was far more ter
rible! saw it in the city courtroom. Bu,
that was the last.
I ~~.. ~. .~s...