The Windham County reformer. (Battleboro, Vt.) 1876-1897, 1880-03-26
RECLAIMED.

standing by the bedside OF woman VIII
was almost insensible, and was breathing
very family
"She can't live many minutes" said thu
doctor, looking at his watch. ut i
needless for me to remain longer, and
must visit other patients | hope yol
will stay with her, Mrs. Hoffman, while
she lives. You'll not be detained long"
Reckon will That drunken beast o
husband of hers hasn't come in yet
Not that he's any good when he's here
and goodness knows what these poor
children would do by themselves"
Her coarse, homely face softened in
pity for the three little children-the
eldest not more than seven-who were
huddled together in the corner. The
eldest, girl, had dim comprehension
of what death meant, but the others were
simply frightened. The youngest, pret-
ty boy of three years old, was crying
81 want my muzzer Lemme go to my
muzzerw and through her choking sobs,
his sister was trying to sooth him.
The house was little better than cabin
and the room in which the woman lay
was poorly furnished, though such pieces
of furniture as were in it showed that
the Greys had not always been in power
ty. - -. .;,
patched to be sure, but OF good quailty.
There was tidy on the broken rocking
chair, and some strips of once hand
some carpet lay by the bed. There were
some faded flowers in broken vase,
loo hY,yr
the mantel-pathetic touches OF adorn-
ment which told that Mary Grey had
struggled hard to bring some beauty and
grace into her wretched life.
She would struggle no more. The ema-
ciated hands had done their last work.
The hollow, sunken eyes had shed their
last tears.
"Well, deaths a good thing to some
poor critters" Mrs. Hoffman muttered,
looking at the quiet face. There amt
no more heart break for her-only jest
wish it was him a-lyin' there instead OF
her-poor lamb! The dispisable, cruel
murderer! Yes, jest calls him by his
right name-for he"-
She stopped, for the sick woman sud-
denly opened her eyes.
"Where's John ?"she whispered, feeblv.
81 hear him a'comin'," the woman an
swered, frowning yiciously at the door:
1t opened, and John Grey slouched IN,
with a flushed face and unsteady step
There was an unmistakable whisky Dloat
in his wel-cut features, and WHISKY
film covered what otherwise might have
been his clear blue eyes.
Those who knew John Grey four years
before could have told you that he was
then the handsomest man IN the county,
and the most intelligent mechanic. lhey;
and no one else, could have explained
how and when the madness OF drink
mastered him.
Those steps down the fiery ladder are
usually alike in all. There is a dallylng
with temptation, a reliance in ones own
strength, and the first step is taken, and
then the rounds of the ladder are burned
behind the descending man.
That is the reason why the return OF
the drunkard to his first position is so
difficult. Each foothold has been con-
sumed in turn, and nothing but the infi-
mite mercy of God can weave cord
strong enough to lift him from the fiery
gulf.
John Grey drew near the bed. For
three years the poor woman lying there
had seen him every day intoxicated,
more or less. For three years her heart
had throbbed with agony at his disgrace,
and the impossibility of reclaiming him
But now she was too near the peace of
eternity for any active feeling of pain.
'John," she sud, trying to lift her hand
to him.
1t was the feeblest whisper, but he
obeyed and bent over her.
Although drunkard, he had never
been a brutal husband or father lie
had broken her heart, but he had never
struck, or even cursed her.
OF course, the blow and the oath would
have come in time, but so far the old love
for his wife was in his heart, though the
liquor madness was stronger.
'Im almost gone, john" Her wide,
solemn eyes looked into his without emo
ton.
He buried his face in his hands, for he
could not bear that look.
"Take care of little Frank, John. The
girls will get on. Somebody VIII help
them. But don't let my baby grow up
a
"Drunkardl A miserable drunkard,
like his wretehed father he interrupted,
passionately, falling on his knees. Why
uon I You CURSE me- hStl hih ht "
bring up any child? Don't leave me,
Mary for the ehildren's sake, don't
leave mew
Little Frank" whispered the falling
voice, my innocent baby john
rousing herself suddenly to last effort,
al will require his soul at your hands
See to il, John, see to 1T "
Il will | will he cried. "Have you
not word for me, Mary? Are yon go
ing to leave me without even look, when
your love has borne with me so long2'
Little Frank" faltered the pale lips,
and then the seal Of unbroken silence
was placed on them forever.
Il tell YOU he went on awful" Mrs.
Hoffman said the next day TO some Of
her cronies. He beat his head on the
floor. and kept hollerin', ''Not a word or
look for me: only the child she thought
OF. Oh. why can't die tooT'
aAnd / saws Amen 90 that" went on
the woman. -Sich folks a. John Grey
u. .4ra Z