Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1876-10-12
The Door in the Heart.
BI MRS. Y. y. TOWNSEND.

She was stern hard woman, But far away
up great many pairs of winding stairs in her
heart was \ door, easily passed by. and on
that door was written-WOM,S. dickens.
And 30 It Is with the drunkard. Far away
up great many pairs OF winding stairs in his
heart i door. and on that door i. written
man. anc we must knock at that door, once
twice, and seven times; yes seventy time-
seven. that II may open unto Us John b.
Cough.
He was an old man. Not so old either,
Tor the wrinkles that marred his cadayer-
Gus visage were not the autograph that
Times fingers had lain their, and the hand
that placed upon the table the well-drained
glass did not tremble so with the weakness
that age induces; yet verv old aud very
wretched looked the sole occupant of that
narrow room. with its red curtains and lis
floor stained with tobaceo Juice. aud an
atmosphere abundantly seasoned by the
bar-room into which IL opened. \ ha, Gt
must have been intended for onel half
concealed the owners uhcombed locks,
aud unInlStakable evidence OF fanih ar
acquaintance with brick bats and the uut-
ter" did that same hat produce. Then
there was a coat, ont OF whose sleeves
perpcd a pair OF elbows in rejoicing con-
scinusness that they "could afford to be
and god 1!o, ,'tet,fNT me tUiiGS etSsnDtc OF
thd wretched being who had just com
mrnced his daily potatOns in the only
grog shop he was allowed TO frequent.
Aud yet the wretched, frendless creature,
that sat there half stuphed with the ef-
fects OF his morning dram, had a heart
and far up many pairs OF winding stairs
in that heart was door covered with cob
webs and dust OF time and sin, was writ.
ten MAN" But no body dreamed OF this,
and when the Temperance mem had
gone to him with the pledge. and promised
him employment aud respectability If he
would sign il; and other (well meaning
men, too. had rated him soundly for his
evil ways, and he had turned deaf ear
TO his cups again everybody said that Old
BILLY Strong's was hopeless Ease.
All? none OF these had patiently crop
ed their way up the hearts winding stairs
and read the inscription on the hidden
door there. But while the unhappy man
sat by the pine table that morning, the
bar keeper suddenly entered, followed by
Il lady with a pale. high brow, mild, hazel
eyes, and strangely winning expression
on her pensive face. The old man looked
up with vacant stare OF astonishment, as
the bar-keeper offered the lady chai-.
and pointing To the occupant OF the other
saying:
That's Billy Strong ma am. and with
a lingering glance of curiosity. lett that
gentle woman alone with the astonished
and now thoroughly sobered mau.
The soft eyes of the lady wandered with
a sad. lingering expression over Bill's iea-
lures, aud then in u low sweet voice she
asked
Am rightly informed? Do | address
Mr.. William SlrongE
All. with those words the lady had got
! futher up the winding stairs. nearer the
hidden door, than all who had gone be-
| fore her.
Yes. that is my name a'am,' said Old
| Bill. as he glanced down at his shabby at
| tire. and actually tried to hid the elbow,
which was peeping out farthest for 1t was
q long time since he had been addressed
! by that name. ana somehow 1t sounded
/ very pleasant to him.
Il am glad to meet yon Mr.. Strong,
said the lady. | hive heard my father
speak OF you 50 often, and OF the days
when you and he were boys together,
that almost feel as five were Old ac-
| Quaintances. You surely cannot have for
| gotten Charles MOrrisOn?'
| No, no Charlie and used to be old
| cronles. said Bill. with sudden anima-
ton. and a light In his eye such as had not
been there in many day. except when
rum lent it fitful brlliancy.
| All! the lady did not know, as perhaps
the angles did, that she had mounted the
golden stairs land was softly feeling for
that unseen door, so she went on:
i almost feel AS IL l could see the old
| spot upon which your old homestead stood
Mr.. Strong, 1 have heard my father de-
scribe il SO often. The hill with its crown
| Of old oaks at the back of your house,
and the field OF golden harvest grain that
| waved in front. Then there was the grass
plat before the front door, and the huge
| old apple tree that threw its shadows
across it. and the great old-fashOned por-
tico. and the grapevine that crept around
the pillars, and the rose bush that looked
In at the bedroom window, and the spring
that went sbineing and singing through
the bed Of mint at the side of the house.
Old Bill move uneasily in his chair, and
the muscles around his mouth twitched
occasionally but unmindful OF this. in the
same lew, melting tones, the lady kept on
| Many and many were the hours so
father would say, Willie and l used
to pass. under the shadow Of that old ap-
pie tree; playing at hide and. seek or roll
Ing on the grass. telling each other the
wonders We would achieve when We be-
came men; and when the sunset laid its
crown OF gold on the top Of the oaks on
the hill, can see Willie's mother stand
ing in the front door. with her white cap
and check apron, and the pleasant smile
that always lay around her lips, and heal
her cheerful voice calling, come boys
come to supper
One after another the big. warm, blessed
tears came rolling DOWN old Bills cheek
All the lady had found the door then.
Il was always at home at Willie's, faith
. er would say. and used to have my bow
, Of fresh milk. and bread. too, aud whei
, those disappeared, Willie would draw hi