West Virginia freeman. (Parkersburg, W. Va.) 1881-1886, 1881-11-30
BY MISS MILE BUMGARNER.
MARRY NO MAN IF HE DRINKS.

ture in real life may answer your
question better than | could do 1t
in any other way.
In beautiful cottage surrounded
by green howeryAplain, there liv-
ed well-to-do farmer, of whose
happy family he was justly proud,
composed of his amiable wife and
an only daughter, whose accom-
plishments, beauty and kindness,
were the attraction Of all who
knew her. No pains were spared
to educate and qualify her to fill the
place she so prominently held in
society. In course of time q we'll
dressed young gentleman made her
acquaintance, and soon, acquain-
lance grew into associations which
gained her affections, and ripened
into his regular addresses, during
which she occasionally noticed the
odor of strong drink, but on inqui-
ry she was assured that it was only
occasional that he took drink oc-
casionally, but Of course, knew full
we'll when to stop.
With this assurance she eventu-
ally gave to him her heart and hand
and joined her fortunes with him
for veal or woe; and soon they were
happily settled in life with good
home. handsome income and pleas
ant employment.
But alas! Between his business
house and home there was q rum
shop, at which he frequently called.
Soon the effects became apparent.
His business interests began to suf-
fer, and her father was asked to en-
dorse for him, to save him from i'm
mediate ruin; but this was only
temporary, for it was soon develop
ed that their home was mort
gagged to the saloonist, and the
fatal day brought crash that
swept away, not only their home,
but their stock in trade, and
the old homestead Of her father,
and father and mother were driven
to take shelter in a hovel, and drag
out their old days in poverty and
sadness, while their daughter was
taken by her husband to a secluded
part of the town, to dilapidated
hut, to live in poverty.
We look into this humble home
after a dozen years have elapsed. A
sad picture meets us. Instead of
the rosy-cheeked maiden in her
silks, we see a haggard countenance
and an emaciated form, clad in
rags, surrounded by five half-clad
children crying for bread and shiv-
ering with cold, while the tender
mother clasps her babe to her breast
and says to them, "Dear children, aoe
haze no Bread"
We are startled bya strange noise,
and 10! what a sight! Who and what
is this? Not the bright young man
Of fifteen years ago! We shudder
back from bloated and distorted
countenance, half covered with dis
heveled hair, and a staggering form
covered with filth. We are horri-
fed!
Presently shrek form the
wretehed woman terrifies us, and
we hear a coarse voice demanding
his dinner, with oaths, but the
trembling sweet words Of his wife
assures him, "There's not a morsel
in the house."
The end is sure and soon reached,
but can never be pictured, Drunk
en- brutishness, knowing no law nor
restraint, violent blows strike
down the patient, long-suffering
wife, and she falls dying, clasping
to her bloody bosom her starved
babe, now killed by the same fend-
ish blows.
The miserable, guilty wretch is
hurried to prison, and as the spirit
Of drink dies in him, the spirit of
remorse comes with returning rea-
son, and his intolerable life is soon
ended by his own hand.
Public charity now takes charge
of the orphaned children, and in
pity feeds and cares for them.
View all this, my sisters, as a
real, common, everyday occurrence,
and answer me here: Who of you
will not with me this night lift
your fair hand, and solemnly pledge
yO1r co cro1 lo,oOr 1ooUar tO n, orr1, n