The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1870-07-29

persons couch have fled In horror and
alright, less they should be scared to
madness by what they heard and saw;
and many wretch has died alone, raw
ing of deeds the very name Of which has
driven the boldest man away.
But no such rawlings were to be heard
at the bedside by which tho children
knelt Their half.stifed sobs and moan
ings alone broke the silence of the lonely
chamber. And when at last the mothers
grasp relaxed, and, turning one look
from tue children to their father, she
vainly strovo to speak, and fell backward
on the pillow, oil was SO calm and tran
quill, that she seemed to sink to sleep.
They leaned over over her; they called upon
her name, softly at first, and then in the
loud and piercing tones of desperation.
But there was no reply. They listened
for her breath, but no sound came.
They felt for the palpitation OF The heart,
but no faint throb responded to the
touch. That heart was broken, and she
was dead!
The husband sunk into chair by the
bedside, and clasped his hands upon his
burning forehead. He gazed from child
to child, but when weeping eye met
his, he quailed beneath its look. No
word of comfort was whispered in his
ear, no look of kindness lighted on his
face. All sbrunk from and avoided him;
and when at last he staggered from the
room, no one sought to follow or console
the widower.
The time had been when many q friend
would have crowded round him in his
atiiction, and many q heartfelt condo
lence would have met him in his grief.
Where were they nowP One by one,
friends, relations, the commonest ac-
quaintance even, had fallen off and de-
serted the drunkard. His wife alone
had clung to him in good and evil, in
sickness and poverty, and how had he
rewarded her? He had reeled from the
tavern to her bedside, in time to see her
die.
He rushed from the house, aud walked
swiftly through the streets. Remorse,
fear, shame, all crowded on his mind.
Stupefied with drink, and bewildered
with the scene lie had just witnessed, he
re-entered the tavern he had quilted
shortly before. Glass succeeded glass.
His blood mounted, and his brain
whirled round. Death! Every one
must die, and why not she? She was
too good him; her relations had often
told him So. Curses on them! Had
they not deserted her, and left her to
whine away the time at home? Well
she was dead, and happy perhaps. 1t
was better as it was. Another glnss-
one moro! Hurrah! It was merry life
while it lasted; and he would make the
most of it.
Time went on; the three little chill
dren who were left to him grew up, and
were children no longer. The father re-
mained the same-poorer, shabbier and
more misunderstanding, but the same con-
firmed and irreclaimable drunkard. The
boys had, long ago, run wild in the
mained, but she worked hard, and words
or blows could always procure him some
thing for the tavern. So he went on in
the old course, and a merry life he led.
One night, as early as ten o'clock-for
the girl had been sick for many days,
and there was, consequently, little to
spend at the public-house- bent his
steps homeward, bethinking himself that
if he would not have her able to earn mo-
ney, it would be as we'll to apply to the pa
rish surgeon, or, ut all events, to take the
trouble of inquiring what allied her,
which he had not yet thought it worth
while to do. 1t was wet December
night; the wind blew piercing cold, and
tho rain poured heavily down. He
begged half-pence from q passer- by,
and having bought small loaf, (for it
was his interest to keep the girl alive if
he could,) he shuffled onward as fast as
the wind and rain would let him.
At the back Of Fleet street, and lying
between it and the water side, are sevo-
raj mean and narrow courts. which form
portion of Whitcfriars; it was to one
of those that he directed his steps.
The alley into which he turned might
for filth and misery have competed with
the darkest corner of this ancient sanctu-
ary in its dirtiest and most lawless time
The houses, varying from two stories in
height to four, were stained with every
indescribable hue that long exposure to
the weather, damp, and rottenness can
lmpnrt to tenements composed original
ly Of the toughest and coarscst materials
The windows were patched with paper,
aud stuffed with the foulest rags; the
doors wero falling from their hinges;
poles, with lines Oh which to dry clothes,
projected from every easement, and
sounds of quarreling or drunkenness is
sued from every room.
The solitary oil lamp in tho centre of
the court had been blown out, either by
L ,,-I.x~ II.