Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1876-02-16

When the winds are low
Brighter than the tulips bushes,
Reddening out of snow,
Were the form and face so fair
Of the little child at prayer
-[Alice Cary.
The only one in the house, little
child, knelt by her bedside praying,
alone. Perhaps the experiences of ten
years had laid their weight upon her
young heart-she certainly was not
older-and were it not for the impress
sions which sorrow always leaves upon
its victims she would have passed for a
house, for there were but three rooms
In it, and, besides herself, it had but
one occupant. He was away; she
knew not where, only that her fears
told her he was where he ought not to
be. She had prepared their frugal sup
per hours ago, and had waited anxious
ly and hopefully for her fathers return
ing footsteps, but night crept on apace,
and he came not to cheer the solitude
or relieve the anxiety of his waiting
child.
Tears had been falling from the
bright blue eyes, dimming their lustre,
and sobs had burst from the roseate
lips, telling her hearts agony; and now
near the middle of the night, the little
one knelt, as her sainted mother had
taught her to do, and prayed for the
absent one.
"Dear God, bless my poor, dear
father. Make him good and holy as
my dear, dead mother was. Keep him
from drinking the wicked brandy any
more, and make him love his little
Mary as he used to-"
This was the burden of her prayer
But how can we tell the expression of
her weeping eyes and little hands
raised imploringly to heaven in the
earnestness of her petition? Her
golden hair fell loosely down upon her
shoulders, and it was a picture which
made glad the angels who beheld it.
They had seen the picture before, and
the merciful Lord had seen it, and
heard the earnest petition of the blame
less one.
Charles Ransom had been prosper
Gus and well-to-do. He had begun Life
with bright prospects, and with a loving
wife and interesting children, his home
was one of the bright spots of earth.
But sickness and death came and rob
bed him Of his hearts jewels-of all
but one-and left him desolate and dis
consulate. Truly, he loved Mary, the
one left him by wise Providence; but
his devotion to his wife had been so en-
tire and SO absorbing she had become
SO truly part of his own existence
that when she was taken from him life
seemed dismal dungeon, and he could
see no "silver lining" to the clouds
which mantled his LIES sky.
Dependency took possession Of him.
and, to drown the poignancy of his
grief, he resorted to the wine-cup, as
many an unfortunate one has done be-
fore him, deluded with false hopes.
Having once began in this way, he soon
went to excess. At first. the piteous
appeals of the child, and the advice
and warning, of friends who loved him,
seemed to have some restraings effect;
but at length these gradually lost their
power, and one by one his g friends y
gave up hiscase as hopeless, and ceased
striving with him, wrapping themselves
In the mantle of their own fancied per
lection and invincible powers to resist
temptation, and resigned him to his
fate.
There was but one who remained fast
and firm, staunch and true to the work
of his reformation; and that was his
heaven-eyed, sunny-crowned Mary.
She never faltered in her prayers or her
entreaties. She needed no repulse, land
was discouraged by no delay; but with
the simple face Of childhood she kept
her eye fixed steadily on the boon she
SO fondly desired-the reformation of
the one she held most dear on earth
On this peculiar night Charles Ran
som had fingered as usual at the dram
shop, and, becoming intoxicated, was
obivious to his home, his waiting child,
and everything but his thirst for liquor.
This thirst it seemed impossible to
quench. His money was all gone, and
alas ! he had reached, too, that other
certain stage in the drunkard's life
when his credit at the bar was also
gone, yet he implored the landlord for
more drink. With his tongue thick
and his eyes rolling IN an idiotic stare,
he begged in vain for one more glass to
tisfy his craving thirst. His plead