The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1879-07-03
A CHILD's INFLUENCE.

Affecting Account Of The Reformation OF
"Mhisky Bir' a. RecounIed by the De-
froii Free Press Mnn.
where is whisky Bill who used to
drive the old white horse in front Of a
twenty-five cent express wagon?' 70.
peated the man in tones Of surprise.
Yes
We'll, now it's a curious case" he
slowly continued. we all thought he
had gone to the dogs, for sure, for he
was drinking a pint of whisky a day,
but a few months ago be braced right
up, stopped drinking, and now l hear
he's in good business and saving money.
II beats all, for the last time l saw him
he seemed half underground
When you go home at night and find
that ali is well with your own flesh and
blood do you go to sleep reasoning that
the rest of the world must care for itself 2
Do You ever shut your eyes and clll up
the hundreds Of faces you have met dur
ing the day, and wonder if TIE p~aleness
Of death will cover any of them before
themorrow? When you have once been
attracted TO q face, even If il DO a stran-
gers, do you let it drop from memory
with your dreams, or do you call it up
again and again rs night comes down
and hope ii may lose none Of its bright
ness in the whirling mists of time?
So Whisky Bill was hunted down.
An inquiry here and there finally traced
him toa little brown cottage on a by.
street. He sat on the step in the twi-
light, a burly, broad. shouldered man Of
fifty, and in the house three or four
children gathered around the lamp 10
ook over a picture book.
Yes, they used TO call me whisky
Bill, down town. he replied as he NOV
ed along and made room, but it is
weeks since I heard the name. No
wonder they think me dead, for I've not
set eyes on the old crowd for months,
and L don't want to for monthsto come
They tell me you have quit drinking.
One could see that by your face
Il hope so. Haven't touched a drop
since February. Before that 1 was half
drunk day in and day ont, and more OF
a brute than a man. l don't mind say
ing that my wife's death set mo to think
ing; but 1 didn't stop my liquor. God
forgive me, but l was drunk when she
died, half-drunk at the grave, and I
meant to 60 or a regular spree that
night. 1t was low-down, sir, but I was
no better than q brute those days.
'And so you left your motherless
children at homo and went out and got
drunk 2
NO. 1 said I meant to, but 1 didn't.
The poor things were crying all day,
and after coming home from the burial
1 thought to get EN- tucked away in bed
before / went out. Drunk or sober, I
never struck one of 'em q blow, and they
never ran from me when l staggered
home. There's four of 'em in there, and
the youngest isn't quite four years yet.
/ got the older ones in bed all right,
and then came little Ned. He had cried
himself TO sleep, and he called for moth
err as o o as | awoke him. Until that
night / never had that boy on my knee,
to say nothing of putting him to bed,
and you csn guess these big fingers
made slow work with tho hooks and
buttons. Every minute he kept saying
mother didn't do that way; and the big
children were hiding their heads under
the quilts TO drown their sobs. When
| had his clothes off and his night gown
on l was ashamed and put him down,
and when the Oldest saw tears in my eyes
and jumped out Of bed to put her arms
around my neck I dropped the name
of Whisky Bill right then and for
ever
'And little Ned?'
Mebbe I'd have weakened but for
him. replied the man as he wiped his
eyes. After 1 got the child's night
gown on, what did he do but kneel right
down beside me and wait for me to say
the Lords Prayer to him Why, sir,
you might have knocked me down with
a feather ThereI was mother and faith
or to him, and / couldn't say four words
of that prayer to say my life He
waited and waited for me to begin, as
his mother always had, and the big
children were waiting, and when / took
him in my arms and kissed him, l called
heaven to witness that my life should
change from that hour. And so it did,
sir, and I've been trying hard to lead o
sober, honest life. God helping me,
no one shall call me Whisky Bill
again.
The four children, little Ned in his
night-gown, came out for q goodnight
kiss, andthe boy Guided in his fathers
arms for a moment and said
Goodnight, pa-good-night, every
body in the world-good-night, ma, up
in H~eaven--and don't put cut the light
till we get to sleepl'
Pittsburg's SCOT.
A gentleman who has been sojourning