Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1873-11-08
POOR JOE.

POOR JOE.
Mary Lee was as descent a woman
as the village could produce, but she
had brute of husband. Not con-
tent with starving her and her child
with hunger and cold, he added insult
to injury, and cowardly blows to de-
sertion and neglect. Most of his mon
ey was spent at the public house. And
those whom nature and solemn vows
would prompt him to cherish, were
left to starye or beg. But it was not
long, for Mary was not strong at best,
and all this told powerfully on her
slender frame, and brought her to the
gates of death happily fer her, they
were also the gate of heaven. But it
was a terrible struggle for her to part
with her darling boy, for Joe had been
the constant companion of all her
griefs, and shared in all her woes in
fact, they were to each other the only
oasis that each possessed-all beside
was sterile wilderness and barren
sand.
Their work during the day was todo
anything to earn a crust of bread to
keep them from starvation, and at
night TO sit in dark, damp, dismal
room, and watch the Pickering embers
in the crate till they died away, and
then to creep to an old straw mattress
that lay in the corner, and await the
coming of him whose very foot should
have had Music in It a. coming up the
stairs" But oh the coming the
sad coming woes for the coming
They could bear the surly blast as it
howled around the house like hungry
wolf; they could bear the snow as it
drifted in through the broken windows,
and wound around them like winding
sheet; they could bear gaunt hunger
that gnawed at their hearts like greedy
bear; but the football of an incarnate
devil, maddened with drink, sent
thrill of horror through and through
them, like an intensified agony, and
they elung closer together, drew the
thin bed clothes tighter around them,
and awaited the fiery ordeal. But the
blackest cloud will burst, and the
darkest night will give place to the
dawning day. saa
But the partingl How couldshe go,
and leave her darling child to bear it
all himself, with no hand to shield him,
and no tender eye to watch over him?
All she would gladly have cried, but
could not, for life was fast ebbing away,
and the mortal struggle was at hand
The only thought that consoled her
was that he would soon follow: and
the hollow cheek and sunken eye that
caused her so much sorrow before, she
now looked at with complacency and
pleasure and yet the thought haunted
her that perhaps he might die alone,
with no one to hold his aching head
or close his sightless eyes. The strug-
gle came at last, and there she lay on
a pallet of straw and Joe by her side.
He overheard her whispering some
thing, and laying his ear closer to her,
he heard the words, II coming, COM
ing, coming -
Where are you going, mother ~ he
said.
ITO heaven, my boy"
please let me 90 with you
Il would take you in my arms if |
could, but God loves you, and will
send an angel for you soou." And
she convulsively pressed him to her
bosom and died. r.
And when the husband came home,
drunk as usual, the horrible picture
presented itself to him of a dead
mother embracing living child. The
scene sobered him, and he vowed to
do better, but alas so much had the
demon drink got the mastery Of him
that all his resolutions were like
ropes of sand, and a few weeks found
him at the inevitable ale-house and
so thoroughly insensible did he be-
come, that he even sold the straw mat
tress for a copper or two to buy drink.
Poor Joe the old vigils were renew
ed, and then he felt what it was to have
no mother. Sometimes he was over
heard saying to himself, Il wish God
would send the angel to take me to
heaven where mother is, for the fire is
nearly out, and I'm afraid to stay in
the dark, and it's so cold. Occasion
ally the neighb0rs took him in, and at
other times he would hover about the
doors of public houses waiting for his
father.
1t was a fearful night. The frost
was keen and biting, the north wind
drove the drifting snow before it like
a maddening fury mothers drew the
window blinds closer, children hud-
died together in bed and pitled man
or beast that might be out in the
blast.
Two gentlemen, going for the village
doctor, with lamps in their hands,
happened to shed a ray of light on
something like boy, sitting covering
against the doorstep of an ale-house
there was the voice of noise and revel-
ry within, and high over all was heard
the well-known shout of Blaekey
Lee; the boy was Joe! The gentle
man knew him we'll; stranger came
up at the time, poked him gently with
the stick, and said, 60 home to your
mother, my lad
His mother is dead, sir" said the
gentleman.
And where is his father?"
That's him shouting so, and sing
ing"
Poor boy" said the stranger, well
for him if he were dead, too.
They took hold of his hand it was
stiff and cold they touched his face,
it was like ice; they took him-he was
dead.
He set at the ale-house door,
TIE night was bleak, and cold, and Wild;
His clothes weie few, and thin, and poor:
His feet were horn'd, his head was bare,
Say, did an angel hover there
over that child?
His torn robes tapped before the blast,
He spoke no wOlG, 1OT we Ut, nor smiled;
The snowfiakes kissed him as they passed,
His hair hung DER bis half-closed eyes;
And still he loOk'd ,oward the skies.
The poor lost child.
We touch'd his hand, twas cold and chill,
He spoke no word, nor wept, nor smiled;
We fouch'd his cheek, twas colder still:
..Go home 90 home" the stranser said,
He'd gone, dear boy, for he was dead!
The drunkards child.
WHAT Is A PANIC ?"-Herodotus
tells us wi. 1867 that when Darius
threatened Attica, the Athenians sent
to Spartaa herald named Pheidippides
to implore help against the Perslans.
The god Pan met Pheidippides near
Tegea, called him by his name, and
bade him demand of the Athenians
why they paid no worship to him, a
god who had often helped them, and
was about to do so again. After the