The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1873-10-30
AGAINST WIND AND TIDE.

AGAINST WIND AND TIDE.
Jack Ramsdale was bad boy. He
had been bad boy so long that secretly
he was rather tired of it; but he really
did not know how to help himself. 1t
was his reputation, and it is curious how
naturally we all live up to our reputation;
that is to say, We do the things which are
expected of us. There is a good deal of
homely sense in the old proverb, Give
a dog a bad name and hang him." Give
a boy bad name and he is reasonably
sure to deserve one. Not but Jack
Ramsdale had fairly earned his bad
name. His mother had died before he
was old enough to remember her, so he
had never known what home was. Once
when his father was unusually good-na-
tured, he had asked him some questions
about his mother.
'She was one of God saints, if ever
there was one," the man answered, halt
reluctantly. Everybody wondered that
she took up with me, but maybe it was
because she saw I needed her more than
anybody else did. She might have made
a different man of me if she'd lived at
least I've always thought SO. | never
drank so much when she was alive but
what | kept a comfortable home over
her head. But when she was gone, it
didn't appear to me there was anything
left to live for. l lacked comfort sorely,
and | don't say but what I've sought
for it in my by paths--by and forbidden
paths, as she used to say
g. wish | could ha' seen her," said
Jack.
"She was dreadful motherly creetur
and was always hangir' oyer you. Cold
nights I've known her to get up half-a-
dozen times to see if the clothes were all
over your shoulders and sometimes I've
seen her stand there looking down at you
in the biting cold till [ thought she d
freeze; but | didn' care to say anything,
for her lips were moving and ! knew she
was prayin' for you. She was pray
in woman. your mother was. I used
to think her prayers would save both
of US"
ST can't 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 around from
pillar to post, as they say, with his
father. Sam Ramsdale 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 be took with
him everywhere-an unkenpt, undisci-
plined little fellow whom no one liked.
Now as his father talked, it seemed so
strange a thing to think that some one
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
81 wish I could ha' seen how she
locked"
don't suppose folks would ha said
she was much to look at" His father
said in musing sort of way. She was
a little pale slip of woman, with soft
yellow hair droppin' about her white
face, and eyes as blue as them blue
flowers you picked up along the road.
But there, I can't talk about her, and l
amt goin' to, what is more; SO don't you
ever ask me again ~
From that time Jack never dared to
ask any more questions about his moth
er, but all through his troublesome, tur-
bulent boyhood he remembered the mea-
gre outlines of the story which had been
told him. No matter how bad he had
been throughout the day. the nights were
few when he tailed to think how pale
slip of woman with soft yellow hair
around her white face, and eyes blue as
the blue gentians, had bent above him
while slumbering and said prayers for
him.
When he was ten years old his father
died in the poor-house. Drink had en-
feebled his constitution sudden cold
did the rest There were 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 likedto have him in his sight.
One day just before the end, when they
were all alone, the father called his boy
to his bedside.
81 can't tell you to follow my exam
pie, Jack that's the shame of it. I've
got to hold myself up as warnin' and
not as an example. Just you steer as
clear o my ways as you can; but remem-
Der your mother was prayin' woman.
/ s'pose nobody'd believe it Jack; but
since I've been lynn here I've kinder felt
nearer to her than / ever did before since
she died. Seems as if could Almost
hear her prayin' for me and l think by
times that the God she lived SO near to
won't say no. It's the 'leventh hour, 1
know that as well as anybody but she
used to sing a hymn about while the
lamp holds out to burn When l get
there I shall get rid of this thirst for
drink. It's been an awful thirst no
hunger that know of can match il hut
/ shall get rid Of it when this old body
goes to pieces. And what does Saviour
mean, if it amt that He'll save us from