The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1875-01-01
A Rescue.


A few years ago, on any sunny morn
ing, heap of filthy rags might be seen
stretched on some of the bales of pa
per warehouse in a neighboring city,
with strong smell of stale tobacco and
whisky hanging about it. Turning it over
(Which you could as though it were
log any time after ten o'clock in the
morning,) you could find the swollen
face of what had once been handsome
young man: but there was little hope
that the bleared eyes or thick tongue
could give an intelligent answer. The
porters, passing by, would push him
aside, but not roughly. The time had
been when he had been a jolly, gener-
GUS young fellow and favorite III the
Office. young Rodgers some one
would give you his history in five min
utes: A" Taken to rum-no chance
poor devil. Stokes (the proprietor)
could not turn him out to starve, he
still gave him a nominal salary, and suf-
| fered him to hang about the house,
! lest he should take to worse courses
| than drinking" There were hints,
too, of a widowed mother, away
off in the country, who had been de-
| pendent on him, and a sweetheart,
pretty, clinging little girl, both of whom
long ago he had abandoned. But there
was, nothing to be done. The end,
through the usual horrors of deliriatnl
tren1ens, was apparently not far off.
! One day, as Rodgers was creeping to
the nearest bar for his morning bitters,
man whom he barely knew by sight,
took him by the elbow, and walked with
| him into quieter street. They tell
me you are Richard Rodgers son" he
said. Dick Rodgers was the only
| friend had for years, and, for his sake,
I'd like to save his boy. Are you will
ing for me to try?" 'Ohi you can try,'
muttered the lad, with an imbecile
| laugh.
This nameless friend, nothing daunt-
ed, took him to chamber in his own
house, and put him to bed. There he
and his sons kept watch and guarded
this poor wretch for months like pris-
oner, keeping liquor from him, and try
ing to supply it by medical treatment.
A physician he employed, but he was
not able to pay for q nurse. Any one
who has had to deal with victim of
n1d1ai0-a-p potu can guess how difficult
and loathsome a task he hadset himself.
Ungrateful enough it was at first; for
Rodgers struggled against his tormentors
with the ferocity of-just what he was
a starving animal As reason began to
return, and his unnatural strength to
vanish,. he would beg them in his inter
walls of reason not to fail him, but to
work out the experiment either to sue
cess or death. g 1t is my last chance,
he would cry; GO for Gods sake, be pa
tient. This friend. with his son, did
work it out through all the foul, unmen-
tionable details, and the end was not
death, but success.
"How soon," asked a friend of
Rodgers afterwards, t'were you trusted
| alone 2" 'tNot for two years, " he an
swered, laughing. &c I was out of Jail
bounds. Do you remember that lank,
muscular fellow who had desk beside
me in the officel He took it with the
condition that he could leave it to dog
me night and day, to my meals and to
my bed. That was the son of the man
who saved me. He was taken from a
lucuratiye situation in order that he
might become my jailer. God bless
him How I used to curse him |
Cant you trust my honor! L would
cry I'm not convinced that your
honor has not the consumption, the
Scotch-Irishman would say. Wen
put no burdens on it until it has re-
gained its health
"Your friend was wealthy man, no
doubt. and so able to give both time and
money to your case ?"
t'On the contrary, he is but the own
er of a small hat store, and supports his
family out of that. He is rich or noble
only in the deed and spirit of friend
! ship"
, All this was. years ago. Rodgers is
now an industrious, honorable man,
married to his old love, with his grey
haired mother by his hearth, bringing
! to it the perpetual benedictiOn of benig-
nant old age.
His friend sells hats-makes
speeches nor brrlit of any sort in
world. Nobody has recognized in
hero Yet who, for the sake of q
dead or living friend, would go and dc
likewise I-E1.