The Van Buren press., 1873-10-21

Jack Ramsdale was bad boy. HC
had been bad boy so long that secret :
he was rather tired Of it; but no really
did not know how to help himself Ii
was his reputation, and it is a curious
thing how naturally we all live up to our
regulations; that is to say, we do the
things which are expected Of us. There
is great deal Of homely sense in the
old proverb, "Gvc a dog bad name
and hang him. " Give a boy a bad name,
and he is reasonably sure to deserve one,
Net but Jack Ramsdale had fairly earned
his bad name. His mother had died be
fore he was old enough to remember her,
so he had never known what home was.
Once, when his father was unusually
good natured, he had asked him some
questions about his mother.
"She was one Of Cots saints, if ever
there was one" " the man answered, half
reluctantly. Everybody wondered that
she took up with me, bat maybe it was
because she saw | needed her more than
ANYBODY else did. She might have made
a diferent man of me il she'd lived at
least, I've always thought so. ! never
drank SO much when she was alive but
what | kept comfortable home ever her
head. But when she was gone. it didn't
appear to me there was anything left to
live for lacked comfort sorely, and
don't say but what I've sought for it in
by paths-by and forbidden paths, as she
used to say.
."I wish | could ha' seen her." said
Jack.
"She was dreadful mothcrly crcetur,
and Was always hangin over you. Cold
nights I've known her get up half doz
en- times, often, to see if the clothes was
all up over your shoulders; and some
times I've seen her stand there looking
down at on in the biting cold till
thought she'd freeze; but didn't dare
to say any thing. for her lips was moving,
and knew she was prayin for you. She
was q prayin' woman, your mother was.
used to think her prayers would save
both ofns.
Il cant make out how she looked, !"
Jack persisted He was so anxious to
hear something about this dead mother
who had loved him so Ever since she
died, he had been knocked round from
pillar to post, as they say, with his faith
er Sam Ramsdac was good help, as all
the farmers knew, when he was sober /;
but he was not reliable, and then he had
the disadvantage OF always being encum-
bered with the boy, whom he took with
HIN cverywherc--an unkept, undisciplin-
e little fellow whom no one liked. Now,
as his father talked, it seemed to him so
strange thing to think that some ono
used to stand beside his bed in cold win
Ter nights and pray for him, that he could
hardly believe it; and he said again, out
of his desolate longing
Il wish | could ha' seen how she
looked.
II don't suppose folks would la said
she was much to look at His father
spoke in musng sort Of way, "She
was little pale slip Of woman, with
soft yellow hair droppln' about her white
face, and eyes as blue as them blue flow'
ers you picked up along the road. But
there, can't talk about her, and | amt
a goin' to, what's more; and don't you
ever ask me again y
From that time Jack never dared to
ask any more questions about his mother,
but all through his troublesome, turbu-
lent boyhood he remembered the meagrc
outlines Of the story which had been told
him. No matter how bad he had been
through the day, the nights were few
when he failed to think how once pale
slip of a woman, with soft yellow hair
around her white face, and eyes blue as
the blue gentians, had bent above his
slumbers and said prayers for him.
When he was ten years cid his father
died in the poor house. Drink had en-.
feebled his constitution; q sudden cold
did the rest There we're q few weeks OF
terrible suffering, and then the end came,
Jack was with him to the last. There
was nowhere else for him to be, and the
father liked to have him in his sight. One
day. inst before tho end, when they were
alone, the man called the boy to his bed.
side,
81 can't tell you to follow my exam
pie, Jack; that's the shame OF II. I've
got to hold myself up as a warnin, and
not as an example. just you steel rs
clear o my ways as you can but remam'
Der that your mother was aprayin wo
man. ] spose nodody'd believe it, Jack
but since I've been lyin' here I've kinder
felt nearer to her than ! ever did before
since she died Seems as il ! could
Almost hear her prayln' for me; and
think, by times, that the God she lived SO
closo to won't say no. It's the 'lsventh
hour, Jack, the 'lcvcnth hour, knew
that as well as anybody; but she used
to sing hymn about whilo tue lamp
holds ont to burn. Whom ! get there
shall get rid Of this awful thirst for drink.
It's been an amful thirst; no hunger that
I know of can match it, but J shall get
rid of that when this old body goes TO