Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1861-12-19
"But his wife " r asked.

"But his wife," I asked.
"Ier heavenly love has held her up this
far, but she is only the shadow of the wife
she was six years ago." he returned.
My informant was deeply affected, and 50
was consequently [ asked no more
During the remainder of the afternoon l
debated with myself whether to call on John
at all. But finally resolved to 60, though
I waited till after tea. found John and
his wife alone They had both been weep
ing, though [ could see at glance that
Ellen was beaming with hope and love-
But, oh they were changed, sadly, pain
fully so. They were glad to see me, and
my hand was taken warmly. 'Dear G,
don't say a word of the past" John urged,
shaking my hand the second time. Il
know you spoke the truth five years ago. |
was going deyn hill But have gone as
far as 1 can-here I stop at the foot. l
have sworn to be happy now"
The poor fellow burst into tears; Ellen
followed suit, and kept the company. [
could not help crying like child. My
God, what sight! The once noble, true
man, $50 fallen-become a mere broken
glass-the last fragment brightly rejecting
the image it bore ); poor suppliant at the
foot of hope, begging a grain of warmth for
the hearts of himself and wife |! How I
honored and loved that man, and how l
loved him still! Oh how I hoped-aye,
more than hoped, I believed-he would be
saved. And as gazed upon his wife-so
trusting, so loving, SO true, and hopeful,
even in the midst of living death-I prayed
more fervently than ever did before that
God would hold him up and lead him back
to the top of the hill.
In the morning I saw the children-grown
up to be intelligent boys; and, though they
looked pale and wan, yet they smiled and
seemed happy when their father kissed them.
When [ went from there John took me by
the hand, and the last words he said were
''Trust me- Believe me, now. [ will be
man henceforth, while life lasts"
A little over two years had passed when
I read in a newspaper the death of Ellen
Anderson. [ started for the town where
they had lived as soon as possible, thinking
[ might help some one. A fearful PRESENT.
ment possessed my mind.
"Where is John Anderson Z" [ asked
Don't know, I'm sure. He's been gone
these three months. His wife died 10 tbs
Imadhonse last. week 8,
81 'sAnd the children 2"
"Oh, they died before she did,"
staggered back and hurried from the
place, hardly knowing which way I went
but instinct led me to the church yard,
found four graves, which had been made in
| %o,r
children slept in them.
"Aud what has done this ?" [ asked my
self. And a voice answered from the lowly
sleeping places:
"The demon Of the wine-t table,"
But this was not all the work. No, no
The next | saw-oh, God-was far more
terrible. [ saw it in the courtroom. Bu
that was not the last-not the last.
[ saw my legal friend on the day follow.
ing the trial. He said John Anderson was
in prison. | fastened to sec him. The
turnkey conducted me to his cell the key
turned ia the large lock on the ponderous
door, with sharp creak, swung upon its
hinges, and L saw dead body suspended
by the neck from grating in the window
[ looked at the horrible face; I could SEE
nothing of John Anderson there; but the
face l had seen in the court room was suffi
cient to connect the two, and [ knew tha
this was all that remained of him I loved Sc
well.
And this was the last of the demons work
and the last act of the terrible drama All
from the first sparkle of the red wine it hac
been down, down, down, until the foot O
the hill had been finally reached.
When [ turned away from the cell anc
once more walked amid the flashing saloons
and revel halls, wished that my voice hac
power to thunder the life story of which
had been a witness into the ears of all liy
ing men,