Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1863-08-22
THE DOOR THE HEART.


stairs in her heart, was door easily pass
ell by, and on that door was written,
WoMAN.-(Charies Dickens.
And so it is with the drunkard. Far
up great many pairs of winding stairs
in his heart, is door, and on that door
is written, Man; and we must knock at
il once, twice, seven times-yea, seventy
times seven-that it may be opened un-
to us.-(John b. Cough.
He was an old man-not so oil eth
or, for the years of his life could not
have wrinkled his forehead and whitened
his hair, and the hands locked together
an the low pine table, did not trelnble so
with the weakness of age; yet very Old
and miserable looked the solitary occu-
pant of that narrow room or entry, with
is faded red curtains, ani its atmosphere
rendered almost intoIerable 10y the bar
room into which it opened. A hat,
bearing unnistakablo evidences ct long
intimacy with briclbas and cutters.
maintained n safe position on one side OF
tb5 owners head; and pair Of elbows
thrust til, mselves through his coat sleeves
in projecting conspicuousnes9 that they
a = 81 L -s--ia Vi'i-,
reader, pair of-pants. whose original
color would have been a matter of time
an, study TO determine, and you Lave
The tout ensemble of the wreiched being
w'.o occupied the back Of the only grog
shop he was allowed to frequent in the
town of Greenfield.
And that miserable, solitary, friend
less creature, sitting there half Supplied
with the effects of last nights revel, and
utterly unconscious that outside the Nay
morBing had been born of God, with its
glorious birlhrieht of sunshine and dews
aud bird songs, has a heart, and "far
away, up great many pars of stair in
his heart, is a d0or," covered with cob
webs an dust, aud on that door is a
word written, which time and sin have
never BEEN able TO efface-and that word
is Man.
But nobody ever dreamed Of this AMI
people shook their heads, ard said Billy
Strong's case was hopeless one. Had
not many kind hearted people reasoned
with him earnestly ON the folly Of his
why's? Had not the temperance men"
gone TO HIM with the pledge, and prom
ised hirI employment if he would sign
it? And all had been in vain.
All, none of them had groped their
way up the winding stars, AMI read
the name on the hidden door there.
But while the unhappy man sat by the
pine table that morning, the bar-keepcr
suddenly entered followed by lady with
soft, hazel eyes. and face that child
would have gone to in any tiublo.
The old man lookel up with n vacant
gaze Of wonder, as the bar keeper offer
ed the lady chair, and pointed to the
occupant of the other, saying:
''That's Bill Strong, madam, and with
lingering stare of surprise and curiosi-
ty, left the gentle lady alone with the as
tonished aud now thoroughly sobeIed
man.
The soft eyes Of the lady wandered
with a sad plying expression over Bills
features, and then in low, sweet voice
she asked:
Am | rightly informed! Do l al
dress Mr.. WIN. Strong!'
All, with these words the lady hal
gotten further up the winding stairs near
er the hidden door than any tina: had
gone before her.
"Yes, that is my name, ma'am," said
Old Bill, as he glanced down at his shah
by attire, and actually tried to hide the
elbow which was peering out fartherest.
for II was long time since he had been
addressed by that nam, and it seemed
pleasant to him.
Il nm very glat to meet you, Mr..
Strong" said the lady. Il have often
heard my father sperk of YOU, and of The
days when you and he were boys togeth-
err, and / almost fcel MS if We We're old
acquaintance. You surely have not for
gotten Charles Morrison 2"
mo, no; Charles and use to be old
cronios." said Old Bill, with sudden
animation and light in his eyes such
as hal not been there for many day,
except whea rum lent il fereful bril-
iisncy.
u. the lal. did rot know, MS pr
iaPs he arg,es ii, that she had mount
cd the winding stair. and was SOILS feel
ing for the unseen door. So she went
Ga:
IL almost fea, as though I coulI sec
the spot on which your homesIead stood.
Mr. Strong, | have heard father describe
J. SO ofien. The bill, with its crown Of
oil oaks at the back of your house, and
the fell Of golden harvest grain .bat
waved in front. Then there was n green
plot before lie front door, and tie huge
old apple tree that threw is shadow
across Il. ard the great old -fassioped por
tee, anl the grapevine that csept around
he pillars. AMI the roso-bu4h that looked
in at The bedroom window. and the
spring that went flashing and singing
through the bed Of mint at the side of
the house."
Old Bill moved uneasiy in his chair.
and the muscles around his mouth twich-
ed occasionally, but unmindful of This.
in the same low, sweet tones, the lady
went on:
Many and many were the hours