Knoxville daily chronicle. [volume] (Knoxville, Tenn.) 1870-1882, 1880-03-21
WILL I BE LIKE YOU, PAPA q
A Temperance Story.

1t occasions less regret to see 3 man
quafflng his poisonous drink in the
gilded saloon than it does to hear bin
| speak and see him act after he has
staggered within the sacred precincts
of his home. II IL here that he gree's
! his wife and little ones; here that he
| is most noble or most brutal; here that
| the good or evil germs of his influence
are planted, aud it is in this soil that
they take deepest root and live to bless
| or 10 curse, according to the fruit borne
in after generations.
Ii the man is uDkind, his wife and
| children suffer: and that suffering is
perpetuated throughout all their lives.
| Ii he is kind, and still the generous.
hearted husband and father, they be
come familiar with his condition and
| learn to tolerate and excuse it, Then
| the 10y, esteeming it less an evil than
1t is, may follow in the footsteps of his
parent-iollow more rapidly than ii
| blows aud curses. In either case, the
influence of such man is degrading;
and il is degradation that knows no
limitation. L may cease when he re-
| FORMS it is more likely to reach into
the future and prove source OF new
misery.
II is only the speech of little child
that calls forth these words, and yet,
when repeated to the reporter, 1t
| sounded very much like an argum emit
against intemperance. Nay, 1t was
more than an argument, it was juno
ZION OF the present with the future
connection forced and imperative.
The story is quickly told
A gentleman of this city, who for
years has been more or less under the
| Iutluence of liquor, and whose red
nose and bioatea figure swamp him as
an inebriate, had gone home to his
children in his usual condition. He
was not unkind III act or in words. 1t
was his delight to play at games with
his little ones, as he was able, and TO
entertain them with wonderful sto-
ries. On this occasion the family were
| all together in the sitting-ro room, aud
the usual games having been play ed,
| little Freddie, lad about six years of
age, had climbed upon bis fathers
kuee, and was asking him all sorts OF
boyish questions. He talked as a child
will-ot what he would do when be
was "a " big man. asked if he would
be like papa then; and finally, after a
| l0hg and serious look into his fathers
face, with every shade Of childish Gu.
| rosity in voice and glance, put to him
this bewildering query
Papa, when | grow up to be a man,
will my nose lie red like yours. and
my face all swelled ?" All! why
should that swollen face grow retder
| than twas wont to be? Why should
his arms so quickly draw that boy to
| his brsasl2 And why should toars
| How and voice tremble as he replied in
! words and tone that made the moth
er's heart glad:
"No, Freddie; please God, you won't
be like me when you get to be a man,
4 and neither will your father, my boy,
\ for from this hour he will lead sober
| life.n
"Be like him !" He had not thought
of that before, and the bare possibility
staggered him. All the love in his
fathers heart cried out against such a
\ fate. That boy! His pride going
\ about with blosted face and poisoned
| breath? No, no he was not prepared
/ for that! Never before had he seen
\ his own looks so clearly they were
reflected in the boy's-the boy grows
\ to manhood; and honor, affection and
\ reason came to the rescue. The child
\ had preached sermon no orator could
1 deliver, and innocence and ignorance
! had accomplished W hat learning and
4 logic had aimed at in vain. Those
\ words went home. Cedar Rapids
Republican.