The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1875-02-12
How ola Jim Drayton seswore or,

There are men who can remember when
he had cottage of his own when he
was well-dressed and had frank, hon.
est face when his children went to
Sunday school and his wife was well
clothed and carried happy face. Old
Jim found himself going down the hill,
and almost in year he had changed
from hard working, respectable man
to a ragged, lazy sot, and no effort on
the part of those who loved him could
stop his descent. His home went, his
furniture went, good clothes and happy
faces disappeared, and wretchedness
and poverty moved into the old tene-
ment-house on Baubien 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. We're 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 police speak of sold
Jim Drayton ?" A red, wicked face,
having not one soft line in tired eyes
looking stupidity and vacantly at you
battered hat-ragged clothes-you
surely must have met him at some time.
Old Jim meant to have big drunk.
year up. He had been drunk Thanks
giving-he had staggered home drunk
Christmas night, and when the boys
were heard wishing that Santa Claus
had not passed them by the father be-
came 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 as 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 bar;
and old Jim sat down at one of the
tables.
Two young men came in and sat down
near him. Jim was in the shadow, and
they did not know who it was. 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 throat F."
''It's good news, if true" replied
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
Yes I've often wondered why he
the other. eff ever get as low and
ragged and mean as old Jim Drayton
I'll shoot myself -
Old Jim heard every word. If he
had had a glass of whisky down he'd
have 1eaped up and cursed them, but
he was sober-as sober as he had ever
been for ten years, and Le made no
move. Was he low and mean? Did
everybody feel that way toward him I?
Did everybody notice his poor old
house, his ragged children, his red
face and watery eyes? Did men speak
to each other of his degradation, his
neglect of his family-would his death
be good news to the public?
"Do you want whisky or gin % asked
the bartender, 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 him
of his honest look, his frank tone and
his strength and skill, but it had not
robbed him of his memory. He could
go back over the decade and remember
mis- pleasant home, his happy family
and his own honest, independent feel
ing. Shame came with memory. He
had not got SO low but words could
strike him.
Two or three other men came in, and
while they were drinking one of them
asked:
s.Isn't that old Jim Drayton in the
corner?"
Yes, that's the old sot, answered
another.
Wonder if he isn't going to swear
off-ha ha ha !" laughed the third.
de- o%r old
called up something of his old spirit,
and he sprang out of his chair and ex-
claimed:
Yes, I ana going to swear off r.
q. You swear off-YoU-ha ha ha -
laughed the men.
ssBut I soSU! I know Tn drunk
ard, and that I'm ragged and low, but I
can reform"
sThat's good ~ they laughed. big
gest thing out Old Jim Drayton
swearing oH-ha, ha r.
ST wlll-with Gods help, WILL 7"
he replied, striking the bar with his
fist.
Their shouts of laughter followed him
as he went out, but they strengthened
his sudden resolution. He walked di-
rectlv home. He stopped for moment
at the gate and wondered why he had
never before noticed how gloomy and
wretched and lonesome the old hovel
looked. It was fit home for drunk
ard and q wife-beater. He opened 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 few little toys for the chill
dren, and returned and entered his des-
olate house. He stood on the floor 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 moved her, and
il cut him like knife.
Mary, come here r. he said, as he
closed the door and held out his hand !;
!" TIM not drunk tonight r.
She slowly approached him, wonder
ing if drink had not crazed him.
g Maryi" he said as he clasped her
hand, !" { haven't drank o drop to-
night / ]"
"Oh, James !" she sobbed, breaking
right down in an inetant.
They call me old Jim Drayton /;
say I'm q sot wonder why don't die |;
say can't REFORM he went on. ttbut
I'm going to stop drinking-I have
stopped ?
She put her arms around his neck,
but could not speak.
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