The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1865-12-12
Tuesday Morning, Dec. 1S, 1865.
The Drunkard's Wife.

The Drunkard's Wife. sl
aHarry: if this is the way you continue to
come home night after night, / cannot bear it
much longer-I will not bear it." -
Then the man addressed lifted UP his heavy
eyes, as The asked with curse and silly
smile ~ sa3 rs.-.5f.
"Well, what are you going to do about it ?"
SPm going to do something Henry, and that
before long, I've tried to be a faithful and
loving wife to you--I have striyen to keep
your house in order, and to welcome you
here-but my spirit is breaking down. shall
have to give up soon." !,
"Pho! don't you know you're going to re-
form me? Isn't 1t the duty of "a wife to stay
by her husband through good and evils"
eyes where the evil does not come through
yielding to vice, debauching soul and body
If God sent you sickness, or if through your
own nliscalculation or heedlessness, you be-
came suffering and poor, would go with you
hand in hand were the path ever so ruggad.
But as it is you are defling what1 loved, and
yourself destroying every spark of affection
that ever possessed / am too proud to
perform menial offices for drunkard, freely
confess. Were you poor wandering beggar,
sick, and staggering weakly to my door could
wash your very feet, and willingly do what lay
in my power to save you-but l cannot and
will not bear your staggering drIinkenly to
your bed, sitting up till morning dawns, half
crazed with apprehensions-seeingy you in this
or that danger, and to do offices that are too
revolving to be thought Of Twas educated to
habits OF neatness; apd when married you, /
thought | should go with one who would aid
me in being pure-who would keep me from
coming in contact with anything gross or de-
moralizing. Instead of that / married but a
boy of mans statue" she added bitterly
''with weaker than a child-mnd-led by the
nod of drunkard and the dramseller, and re-
specting his wife SO little that he dares to
come reeling into her presence with words
that no wife shoule hear" r1--sI
"You are sick of me then, chi" murmWed
the drunken man drowsily. 30 9 q ads
81 am sick of your ways, Henry, and have
been for years. My better nature re-
volts against your blood-shot eyes, bloated
face and fetid breath. 90 Henry"-she cried
passionately-"we have been married ten
years, and as / view that relation, we should
be ten times happier and love each other ten
times more than when we first promised that
which united our destinies. Instead of that,
find myself wishing had never seen you"
"You do, eh?" ~ ~
"Yes, DO. never said this before, but I
am desperate have tried all means my wo-
mans ingenuity could invent to reform you
For years never met you but With smiles
no matter what your condition. thought,
surely my gentleness will feproye him, and in
time reform him. When / demonstrated it
was cot with anger-you can testify to that,
and, o! Henry, how often you promised to re-
form. l even forgave you what woman sell
dom forgives, a blow, because you were not
conscious, through drink, what you did.
was patient after some of my furniture had
been destroyed By your hand. 1 was patient
after laid two of my darlings under the sod,
because their blood being poisoned by your
vile habits, they had not the strength to rally
when disease came. And even, when your
occasional sprees, as you call them, became
weekly, nightly, was patient-but that was
the patience of despair. Now / have decided.
will no longer sit by drunkards hearth
stone-and declare to you that it would be a
happy hour to me to feel that you have gone
over that door-sill for the last time" "a -
The woman's face was pale-pale as that of
corpse. 1t was evident that a passion
deep, whitehead passion, had mastered her
better mood. 1t glowed and famed in her
sunken eyes-it trembled in her fingers, con-
yulsively working; it swelIed in her veins that
stood out on her broad forehead, and in cord
ed masses sprang from her delicate wrists.
The man all this time was looking down.
He was very handsome, but his flesh was pal
lid, his eyes as he raised them, lusterless, his
lips without color. Sometimes he seemed to
writhe as his wife spoke; he was not SO much
under the influence of drink as she supposed !;
it, that blanched her own still more. r.
"So-it would give you pleasure, would it,
to see the last of meW
The candle-light fiickered-it was burning
down to the frame that supported it, and at
every expiring effort, a lurid redness flashed
over the small room-over those two white
faces-over the innocent beauty of a little girl
lyingin profound slumber near by. .i
"Henry, wish if had pleased God to let me
follow you to the graveyard, rather than to see
YOU the wreck of what you once were. Bet
ter the death ofthe body than the ruin of the
"a soul.' sa31 .s 1as III
SWell my lady, if that's been your wish,
you needn't have been SO long telling it. I've
been willing any time within the last five
years, to leave, and glad of the chance. No
wife shall say to me that when went over
her threshold for the last time it would be a
happy hour for her. Iwish you every possible
Joy OF yonr release, madam; am now going
out of your door for the last time" -
AS he spoke he sprang from the room. The
cold wind streamedi in for brief second, and
put the candle-light out-the chamber was
buried in darkness. at
Not sound came from the woman's lips,
as she sat there, for long time. Then. when
thought had racked her soul beyond the pow
er of silent endurance, she moaned and sob
bed and wept as if her very heart should
bresl. l.-- IA. IA
Mamma" cried little voice in the dark
ness-.are you here, mamma? is that you
crying?" -
"Hush, my darling-hush-an sleep; it is
very late.' - N aa
"Has papa come yet? want to kiss him.
Oh! how that innocent question snote her
heart! She had driven one whom her little
child could still love, still caress with infan-
tine tenderness, from his home. For mo-
nent her pulse almost stopped with horror. as
she remembered the calm, steady way in which
he took leave of her. She hurried to strike
light. 1t shone directly upon the portrait of
her husband, as he was on his marriage day !:
and clasping her hands, she stood breathless,
scanning those almost faultleSs lineaments-
Then fearful thought took possession of her,
HOl was too hasty," she cried. Il have
said too much, and may have his death to an
swer for" lI 80
Springino to the entrance, she flew down
the stairs. unlatched the door, and standing ON
the stone step, called the name of her hus-
band repeatedly. asa ~
.Oh! which way could he have gone" she
walled, striving to look through the thick dark
ness, and feeling the sharp drops OF fine rain
striking against her face. ~ -Fi
out she sped in the stormy night; ran
breathlessly, first to one corner, then to an
olher OUT not sound, save the distant bay
ing OF watcn dogs, could she hear. Almost
Hantic' she new up the street, peering into the
dark porches of the houses. 1t was nearly
midnight, and she met no one on the way
Recalled to herself at last, by the wet clineing
OF the garments around her limbs. and the
emil tremors tnat shot through her Frame she
sopDliigiy took her way homeward and entered
to find her little Mary grieving and callino for
father and mother.
"But why didn't you bring papa? want
70 kiss papa" cried the chll