Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1871-11-28


endure till--,he end"
Yes, know, and when will the end
come and what will it be? ?n
She threw the tangled. golden hair
| from her wet cheeks with a gesture Of
utter despair, as she walled pitiiully, 81
am almost sixteen, and haven't de-
cent gown to pat on. Every honest face
/ | meet seems tn censure me; | have
neither friends nor companions; am
( drunkard's miserable child. What il to
/ become of me? When | was Il little
/ thing, | remember we lived in splendOr.
/ Oh, yes; have only to hut my eyes,
aud see that fairy ciy-the home
where YOU aud and papa were honorcd
aud happy. see cur beautiful room
/ aud the lovely white forms that were al.
/ ways calm aud smiling. How can papa
/ ever have become what he is now +? Then,
/ ladies in rich dresses took me upon their
knees and kissed me; would they kiss me
now. | wonder ?" with reckless laugh.
No. for am sick OF myself And this
/ day | saw his wicked hand rai,ed-and it
/ struck YOU, right there, on the check.
No wonder il grows red Do YOU know
what did?"
She sprang to her feet. with defiant
motion, her eyes and check aflame.
IL told him if he ever dared TO strike
my mother again, would iiii him
My child! my Florence! would YOU
turn hi, dreadful, unroasonmg anger up
/ on You?
tie dtrc not touch me- cried Flor
cucr and then, with Wild, waiIing
-, nntuun IN her voice. she sohbcd, "oh,
/ papa papa! why will YOU make me
/ Wick,d: Ne, mother she continued,
more calmly. he won't touch me. lie
tried to; he rushed toward me like 4
licnd. out ouly looked at him. and ho
could not come near enough TO hurt me-
The woman held her child closer to her
bosom.
What changed him so, mamma? Did
he always love drink ?" whispered the
giil.
NO, dear, not always. In that boauli.
iul Italian city of which YOU spoke just
NOW, he made The acquaintance OF man
notorious Tor hi, personal splcndor, and
his secret vices In some way he gained
The heart OF Your poor father, ruined ham
pccuniatiy, and not content with that,
led him on till drink became his master.
Then followed loss of poSllion-a proud
mans misery and despair My poor hus-
band sometimes think it over, how
gentle and unsuspicious of evil Inc was,
with unspotted character; how wicked
and beautiful was his tempter, and il,
makes me more patient
But will being patient do any good ?
Did no not liu his hand TO his patient
wiic, and hurry away, ashamed, from his
impatient daughter ~
"My darliag he will never strike go"
but don't say any more such dreadful
words to him"
do you lovc him, mother ?"
The girl looked straight in hcl mothers
lace-inlo the faded, tcaIiul blue eyes, so
constant. yet so changed.
Darling, do you hate him ?" was the
eyasiyc reply.
"Yes. sometimes think do"
at is not my Florence who says that
not my gentle lractable little girl"
But, mamma. am neither tractable
nor gentlc-at least, since" she paused
n moment, caught her brcath--"since
last Saturday"
And why since then ?"
II will tell YOU. mamma: let me lay
my head upon your shoulder; | don't
want TO look in your eyes while | am
telling it, You know | went out last
Saturday fur walk. In reality intend.
ed to find papa. felt SO strong and
brave Ii seemed 10 me, then, that in
some way could save him, and make
him noble, honored and prosperous again
Al last | traced him To shop. He
was Just coming ont, and seeing me
made him angry. Oh mamma. You
know how he was last Saturday, and rs
went towards him, he said Il terrible
word 10 me. A carriage stood at the
door. and the black driver laughed, laugh
ed at him and me- Oh mother, that made
me furious; it turned every drop OF my
blood TO fire. | never thought what |
was doing; just rushed into that horri
bic place, and went straight up to the
bar. There was blur before my eyes,
but saw that somebody stood there.
why do YOU sell my father rum p |
asked. half wild with my agony. You
are wicked man, and hope God will
punish you. My poor father is only one
of your victims: You send men from
here to DC cruel 10 their wives and little
ones, and to shame their children who
are grown up; you send them to prison,
you send them to the gallows. lwonder
you ever dare to go to sleep. should
think your victims would haunt you; |
would
at was very rough, wasn't it mamma
sobbed Florence, but | was almost crazy,
and never stopped to think. And then
he leaned over and smiled, and told me
what beautiful eyes had, and how tears
become me, and said he had heard of
Phil Belden's pretty daughter, and