The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1875-01-29
HOW OLD JIM DRAYTON "SWORE
OFF"


clothed and carried q happy face
Old Jim found himself going down hill
and almost in year he had changed
from hard-working, respectable mar
to ragged, lazy sot, and no effort OF
the part of those who loved him could
stop his descent. His home went. his
fortune went, good clothes and happy
faces disappeared, and wretchedness
and poverty moved into the old tene-
ment house on Beaubien street with
him.
Do you remember when his child was
run over and killed? Old Jim was
dead drunk while the body lay in the
house. Were you ever at the central
station court when he was sent up for
drunkenness or for beating his wife ?
Have you never seen him sleeping his
drunken sleep in the alley? Haven't
you heard the people speak of cold
Jim Drayton ?" A red, wicked f ce,
having not one soft line in tired eyes,
looking stupidity and vacantIy at you-a
battered hat, ragged elothes-you
surely must have met him at some time.
Old Jim meant to have a big DRUNK.
That was a good way to wind the cid
year up. He had been drunk thanks
gi7ing-He had staggered home drunk
Christmas night, ard when his boys
were heard wishing tha5 Santa Claus
had not passed them by, the father
became angered and beat them. The
bar-keeper knew him as he entered the
saloon and called for drinks. He had
called there dozens Of times before,
and his face was familiar as the sight
of the big decanter from which he
poured his drink.
" Wait a minute" said the bar
keeper, who was wiping off the counter;
and Old Jim was in the shadow, and
they did not know who it was. And as
they drank their beer they spoke of the
dying year, and of their resolves to
break off some of their bad habits, and
finally one of them said:
Some one was saying that Old Jim
DraytOn had cut his thr2atl"
cts good news, if true" said the
other. "No one will miss the old sot
not even his family. His wife and
children are in rags, his home hasn't
a comfort, and if he'd only die folks
would feel like helping them. He's
the lowest drunkard in Detroit |"
t., Z.
didn't jump into the river" rejoined
the other. ''Tf I ever get rs low and
ragged and mean as Old jim Drayton,
I'll shoot myself !"
Old jim heard every word. IF he had
had 8 glass of whisky down he'd have
leaped up and cursed them, but he was
sObeE-as sober as he had ever been for
ten years, aud he made no move. Was
he low and mean? Did everybody feel
that way toward him? Did everybody
notice his poor old house, his ragged
children, his red face and watery eyes ?
Did men speak to each other of his deg
radiation, his neglect of his family
would his death be good news TO the
public?
"Do you want whisky or gin ?" asked
the bar tender; but old Jim did not
hear him. He had leaned back against
the wall, pulled his hat over his eyes
and was thinking. Drink had robbed f!
him Of his honest look, his frank tone, |
and his strength and skill, but it had not |
robbed him OF his memory. He could |
20 back over the decade and remember |
his pleasant home, his happy family and |
his own honest, independent feeling. |
Shame came with memory. He had not |
got SO low but words could strike him.
Two or three other men came in, ami
while they we're drinking one Of them
asked
"Isn't that Old jim Drayton over
there in the corner?"
eyes, that's the old sot," answered
another.
" Wonder if he isn't going to swear off
- -ha ha ha p responded the third
The words stung old Jim again. They
called up something of his old spirit,
and he sprang ont of his chair and ex-
claimed:
eyes, am going to swear off J!
"You swear off-you-ha! ha ha !"
laughed the men.
"But I will know that I'm
druukard, and that I'm ragged and law,
hut can reformI'
''That's good p they all laughed;
'biggest thing out Old jim Drayton
swearing off-ha ha! hap p
"I wilI-with Gods help, will p he
replied, striking the bar with his fist.
Their shouts of laughter followed
him as he went out, but they strength
ened his sudden resolution. He walked
home. He stopped for mo-
ment at the gate and wondered why he
had never before noticed how gloomy
and wretched and lonesome the old
hotel looked. It was fit home for a
drunkard and a wife-Deater. He eopened
the gate, paused, then turned and went
to the grocery on the corner, and with
the money he meant to get drunk on he
purchased a few little toys for the chill
dren and returned and entered his des-
olate house. He stood in the door for
an instant and looked around at the
bare and battered walls, the bare floors,
the wretchedness and poverty. His
wife crept away, fearing his drunken
wrath. He knew what move5 her, and
it cut him like knife.
"Mary, come here I" he said, as he
closed the door and held out his hand
'' am not drunk tonight p
She slowly approached him, wonder
ing if drink had not crazed him.
MARY (" he said, as he clasped
her hand, "I haven't drank drop to-
night p
"Oh, James - she sobbRd, breaking
right down in an instant.
"They call me Old jim Drayton; say
I'm sot; wonder why didn't die; say