The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1872-12-20
The Boys Curse.
"cURsE Ny MOTH"

COURSE Ny MOTH"
Reader, see a look Of horror on YOU
face as you read the above. 'Tis har
expression, yet it was uttered by bo
apparently fifteen years old.
But will not keep you in suspens
any longer. 1t was on one of those beau
tiful evenings We sometimes have il
winter, when the air is just cool enough
TO make one move along smartly, an,
pale luna sails through the misty ethe
above, making il sufficiently light {,
distinguish surrounding objects, that
was passing along dark street bOrdereC
on either side with whisky shops. In
front Of one, reeling along, We're two
boys, whose movements at once at
tracted my attention. l Iquickened my
footsteps, being anxious to know
whether they were-as / Inferred
drunk. As I came up with them the
older Of the two said:
''Bili, we're having it jolly tonight,
it's a ID fine thing-whisky is.
Why, don't feel cold bit"
"Yes," said the one addressed as Bill,
sits mighty nice. What would such
fellows as you and do if il wasn't for
whisky? 1t makes US happy and rich.
] feel happier than that fellow who is
always smiling in church, and richer
than Squire England who owns that big
farm along the railroad"
The conversation broke off for awhile
when the first speaker, whom we viii
call Joe, spoke again:
"Bill, how is it that you have takeT
10 drinking; l always thought you wa
one of them pious fellows -
my mother taught me.n
"What! your mOther?n half in as
tOnishment and half in doubt. Indeed
this seemed to sober Joe. The idea Of
mother teaching her son to drink wa
something that was awful even to him
We were all now in front of a store In
more respectable part Of the city, anC
Bill, taking his companion by the hand
asked him to sit down on a box whicl
was standing along the curb. Ate
being seated Bill told the following:
"When I was bit of a shaver, mother
used to take me on her knee and Civ,
me wine with teaspoon. Father mad,
currant wine, and this mother used t
give me three times a day, and at last
young as / am, / have learned TO love il
From wine / have taken to strong
drinks, and you know how often yOI
and 1 have been drunk together.
might have been better, my heart is moi
so bad, and sometimes when / am sober
I try to do right, and give it up. But
this resolution is hardly taken until ]
have to meet the enemy face to face al
my mothers table, As the boy con-
tinued to speak he became sad, and after
q moments silence he again said:
Joe, lets 90 TO whisky Lane and
get something to drink"
frnrr of r,arv r,,,FI,n- ,,,.I 4,
together, have almost sobered me. Nv
mother has sown, let her reap-a mighty
poor crop she'll have Of it." he added
with a laugh.
Reader, Will you go with me to this
den of infamy? You will, perhaps, be
shocked, and your heart grow sick at the
sight you Will meet. You say you will.
Well, here we are. This is Whisky
Lane. That large brick building is the
Kant House." very appropriate
namei for here the very fiends of hell
rant and rave and hold high carnival
over the destruction going on. But our
boys don't enter here. This is too pub
LcJ and they would not dare sell to
minors. On down the street, or lane
rather, We go. It is dark, for the moon
mas sunk to rest in the west, and il YOU
are not careful you will stumble and
Iall' Tor this being by-road to hell, is
Iough and dark. We are there at last.
See! our boys are entering the door OF
S SIlo piaeh building. We can't see in,
LOT Ine Ollnds are drawn and the door is
Sloseq; 30 We viii have to enter. OH
hoITioie! WIlat stench-whisky, tobacco
ana old pipes perfume(?) the atmos-
phere in the room. Behind the bar is os
looking a wretch as ever braotbeJ.
he is bloated and haggard, and IooLino
the very picture of infamy, without one
redeeming feature. Here are a few men.
around the room sitting and standing
are boys thirteen, some older, while al
the bar stands our boys waiting foI
something for which they have already
called. Their drinks are brought.
Joe said Bill, sin this glass Of whisky
i curse my moth" The glass fell
TO the floor and was shattered into q
thousand pieces; the boy grasped the
bar for a moment and then fell. ]
rushed forward and picked him up, but
u was too late, the spirit had flown.
With a curse on the being who gave him
birth, in den Of pollution, he died q
drunkard's death and went to meet a
Just God and a drunkard's doom.
Inc loafers in the bar-roOm were
tnorror-stricken., ~ Two Of the men offered
bon,a ,,ssisI me IN carrying him to his
,lSoa's, 1loIlie, winch was accepted. Having
ff0toeI To- ~ u, a settee and calling the boy
den. way we leit TINS
.bo ,vrn,',- la is wrong? Have we taken
Ine tue wrong way and got lost?u I said 10
Joe, who had stopped in front Of S9.1 hean 70
uC,l.. IlluI e9ttage-the residence Of Wart f
o%aruN3ne i1on. .rSo % o. the most influential cit
home" had been in the is lis. Is ms
Altoona but a short time. had 10y oy oi
acquaintance Of Mr.. Howard, but did trS
not know that he had a son. IndeoS s 1i9 u
thought they were Temperance peonie a.
least favorable TO the cause ~
] rang the door bell, but it being late
we had to wait some time before the
door was opened. Mr.. Howard came to
the door, and with much surprise asked
my desire. In as gentle manner as
possible, told him what had happened.
He staggered and would have fallen had
not caught him.
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