Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1873-07-25

cream on a whitely-scoured pantry-shelf-
zone of these days!"
Shew thinking of the future And old
Jonathan, smoking his pipe; was living
in the past. :
you've somethin' to do with the rail
road, stranger, haven't you?''
f. Il reckon have" said Israel Esmayne,
| lndltferently. "I'm switchman."
1T don't take up much of your time, l
guess 90
"It's got to be looked after just the
same, though" said the tall Westerner, as
he lifted the last monster log from the cart
he was unloading to the thrifty pile at the
north end of his house.
''What time does the way train come
by?"
"At nine o'clock"
"Do you suppose could go to Mellen-
vile and see the lumber dealers there, and
get back to the station again by that
time ~
Israel looked refectively at the other
shore of the river.
"Well, you might," said he; "but it
would be a pretty tight squeeze"
"Im good walker" said the stranger
and as he spoke he drew flat pocket
flask from his pocket, uncorked it with
his teeth and drank copious draught.
Israel Esmayne watched him with eager,
| glittering eyes, like those of some famish-
ed wild animal that scents blood.
"Have a drink, friend? ?' said the
stranger, proffering the flask Israel
Esmayne shook his head, with set teeth
and lividly pale check.
II never drink" said he, hoarsely.
"You would, guess, ifyou could get
such stuff as this" said the man; soft as
oil and strong as fire. My father import
ed it. There's not much like it in the
| country. Taste, if you don't believe mel"
Israel stood for moment, hesitating.
and to the left, as if half fearful lest some
one should see him, and grasping at the
bottle-drank
The fevered blood mounted to his cheek
a strange sparkle came into his eyes.
"Have you got more like that?" he
whispered, hoarsely, approaching his
burning lips so closely to the mans ear
that he involuntarily started. "More?"
"I've got another flask, but"
Will you leave it behind? I'll pay
you a good price for it.''
''What fOr?"
Israel's eyes fell guiltily. Chin case
of sickness, you know. We can't buy such
liquor here-and it's lonely spot"
"You're right enough there" said the
man, laughing, as he drew out another
flask, the mate to the first. "Here, take it.
Pshaw, friend, put up your purse You're
welcome to it as gift.''
And he was gone, plunging through the
high grass and bushes, all fringed with
scarlet cardinal flowers and nodding mari
colds, before Israel could stay him.
Israel Esmayne crept back to his house,
or, rather, the rude log cabin which was a
sort of hostage that one day a real home
should rise on its foundations, holding the
flat bottle close to him, and glancing
round with furtive, wandering eyes.
"Ineeded it," he said to himself; Eyes,
I needed il. l didn't know how much
until tasted it. Just ono more taste. 1t
slips over ones palate like glass, so
smooth, so rich, so full of strength. One
more taste, and then"
When the clock struck nine the whistle
of the way train sounded faint and far off,
and Israel Esmayne rose uncertainty to
his feet The subtle, burning fumes of
the liquid flame had entered into his
brain; the walls seemed to reel about him,
the stars to swim in the great blue firma-
was faint and far off and visionary. But
the chains of habit are hard to shake off
and Israel had gone out at nine o'clock
every night for year. Cropping his way,
and walking with slow, unsteady steps,
he went, still clasping the partially emp
tied flask to his breast in the inner pocket
of his coat
He could hear the rush of the river be-
low: he could see the rails of the track
glistening in the faint starlight; and me-
chanically feeling under cluster of
spice-bushes for the switch key, he knelt
down and stupidity fumbled there an in
stant.
"The way traln," he muttered to him
self cts all right. And then the
freight train-halfpast nine-a quarter to
ten; and"
He stopped down by the river-house and
wet his burning forehead with the cool
drops he could scoop up in the hollow of
his hand. He sat down on a fallen tree,
and let his head fall on his palms.
cam I-drunk?'' he muttered, half
aloud. 80 God have I come to THIS in
spite of everything?"
And the memory of Dorothy Beers and
his sacred promise to her rose up in his
mind, as one sometimes remembers prom
wide, reeling, rocking world of his brain
there was but one certainty. He had lost
Dorothy, his soft-stepping, sweet-eyed, re-
deeming angel-the one in all the world
who loved and trusted him most I'M
plicitly.
II don't deserve her." lie thought,
scarce able to shape definite thought in
his chaotic mind "but-if had fallen
down dead before-before I touched that
accursed stuff! She would have believed
in me then" @
The fresh, cool night air on his brow
was SOLDERING him little; the touch of the
cold river water cleared the mists of his
clouded brain in some degree He rose
up, steadying himself by the slender stem
of a young white birch tree that grew
close beside him, and looked around.
Hark! clear whistle, half a mile
away, cleaving the silence like the call of
some sweet-throated bird.
It was the express, whose plume of
lurid smoke spanned half a continent
the long, serpent-like train, glittering
fire in front, which mighty thundered over
the line of rails, and shot like a meteor
out of sight into the hush and silence of
the woods, Westward bound.
The way train passed at nine, making
brief stoppage at Hurstley station beyond,
a mere wooden shed with platform on
either side. Half an hour afterward a
slow and heavy freight train followed it,
running off on a side track toward the
river-shore until the express should have
safely passed. And it was the special
business of Israel Esmayne to set the
switch for the freight, and subsequently