The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1871-11-10
From the Temperance Album.
Too Late.
BY r. r. ENGLE.

MARY, wish to see you in the library
Immediately after dinneru said Judg,
Ainsley TO his only daughter, a lovely
girl of eighteen years perhaps
Yes, papa" was the low, sweet re-
ply, in a voice which trembled and with
cheeks which glOwed for an instant
then grew cOlOrless as the handkerchief
on which her trembling fingers worked
and from which she did not lift her blue,
tear-dimmed eyes.
Tear-dimmed? and wherefore? What
could she, the beautiful and petted child
of wealth, know of sorrow? All, she
knew full well, by the unwonted cold
ness Of her fathers tone, the import of
his words, that these words boded no
no joy for her.
An hour later, and she falteringly
wended her way 10 the library. Her
father sat as if deeply absorbed over
some papers, and took no notice of her
entrance.
She stood for moment, hesitatingly;
then said, Papa, l am here, as you
wished me-"
Then the old man arose, placed a chair
beside his own, and said, "Come and sit
here, childv'
She obeyed him. "Did you refer
William Vance to me, Mary? He had
the audacity TO ask me for you in mar
rage, this morning; saying you had
promised already to be his, but desired
my sanction. Is it so, Mary >"
''It is, Papa"
Great Heavens! have lived to see
the day in which I'm insulted by my
only child, and by a william whom she
knows despise ? He knows it, too;
ana how he dared to come to me, / can't
fathom. Girl. how dare YOU to send
him 10 mo NHhatn 1-,trf.-o 81, ,Ffo,, I,..,. I
my opinion of him ," And the strong
mans voice trembled and grew husky
from the excess of his wrath
Because, Papa, l love him. Willie
Vance is all of life to me-I cannot live
without him. For three long years he
has been dearer to me than all else OF
earth beside. Yet | wouldn't show YOU
the disrespect to give him my promsie
and not have him consult you; so / in
sisted upon his asking your permission,
though | well knew, as he did, the re-
suit Yes, he knows that you hate him,
papa, but | hope"
''Silence! ere 1 kill you at my feet, ,"
now Numbered the frantic parent.
Listen to the answer | gave him! ]
told him I'd rather see YOU in yOul
coffin than his wifei / cursed him
And l dared him to ever cross my thresh-
old againl And / told him that il
ever l should hear of his speaking tc
you again I'd put you in convent fol
iife?"
80 papaw moaned the stricken girl
''dO not be so cruel. Think of what
Willie is to me-think of the days wheI
you were young, and loved my deal
mother
If she were here, she'd plead for me
as in heaven / know she weeps for me
this hour. Willie is not perfect,
know; but his great fault, and the one
that makes you so despise him, is some
times drinking to intOXicatiOn. But
oh. papa, give him TO me, and me Ia
him, and | can reform him. Or, if not.
il will be far sweeter TO me to die with
him than live without him."
AYE! and that one fault is enough; il
is worse than all other crimes combined.
Girl l had rather see you the wife of a
thief, gambler, a murderer-anything
on the earth than a confirmed inebriate
which he is. And as for retaining
him you might just as well think Of re-
claiming the devil from sin, as of per-
suading a drunkard from his darling
cup! Go, girl / can stand il no longer
II you don't leave my presence, / fear
III commit some crime / may rue. But
remember now! if you ever cOuntenance
that rascal again in any manner, I'll
disOwn you forever, and curse you with
my dying BREATH"
With an expression of horror mutter-
able over all her white, sOrowful face,
the girl glided from that stormy pres
ehce, and crept shuddering to her own
room Locking the door she kne!! At-
side her little bed, and bowing her beau-
tiful head, with all its golden wealth
thereon, prayed long but silently and fer
Vently. When she arose, the express
sion Of terror, sorrow, and despair had
vanished, giving place to one OF firm.
stern resolve and defiance.
Seating herself at her desk, She wrote
4 few words, which having been en-
closed and sealed, she placed in her
pocket, then attiTing herself as for a
walk, she glided softly and swiftly out
from the house, and wended her way
towards the post Office.
''AIary! I've come, dear darling, at
your bidding"
"Oh, may heaven bless you, Willie,-
Perhaps it was unnecessary for me to
ask you to meet me here-but felt that
i should die if / couldn't see you and
tell you all. Rather, talk it all over,
for Of course you know what | have to
tell. My father told me yesterday Of
your appeal TO him and his answer.
Ana he assured me that should i ever
So9ntenance you agaiu, in any manner,
ne dlsown me for ever, and give me
nls curse. So you see the risk I've in
In t,1, IN coming here"
And -! lilgs upon your dear headI
iT ~ Viii ~ii13 t Gld You reply, Mary ?p
told him that | love ,o,, tb.t ,.o,,
We're all Of life to me, and II rrer Iverc fs Sr
enSSoei 10 ule with Won tbar 80 H.
Mi'l1ut YOU pleaded with b;n, ,,.;tt.
an the power Of my bresiliIialli NM VIII VIII
You know, Willie, the ebiaf ~ heart;
ms aversion to you is your weaE',ocl oo'ose OF
over the Intoxicating Gun. 7 Weakness ess
him to give me to you. and 7 hplored
him that then / could reform vo,a = assured
he spurned me with rage and i, but
tience.n iiilpa-
"And so you SHALL reform mo d..
lingl Listen, Mary; here before C:,d
and on the sacred Bible, swear To vo,,'
that if you'll this night become my nrs'
eious wife, I'll never again permit the
Intoxicating cup TO approach my lips
Do you promise? We can cross the
the river, you know; and i'm the State
on the other side, any clergyman will
make us one without your fathers con-