The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1881-06-24

Der the blow he had given her, the oaths
he had uttered, but she answered herself
as she did so, cit was not him who did
tit was rum" She listened to the
uncertain, reeling footsteps in the street
below and burst into tears.
"My poor darling" she whispered, as
she thought some grievous calamity had
smitten him into the thing he was, and
he had not himself "put an enemy in his
mouth to steal away his brain, " unmind-
full of her pleading, unmindful of her
woe and of her shame. She thought Of
him reeling helplessly along the street,
| and feared that some harm would come
to him. He might fall in some out-of-
the-way place and lie there undiscovered
and so freeze to death that bitter night,
and in her agony of terror poor Ruth
could not restrain herself from following
him.
Her poor weakly baby slept; she
! wrapped it in blanket and laid it in
its poor cradle. Then she threw her
| warm shawl over her head, and fastened
| down the street, busy this late Saturday
night with market-going people Of the
poorer classes.
A little way before her reeled the
handsome, broad-shouldered figure of
her husband, and she, lady bred and
born, fastidious, elegant, accomplished,
reared in luxury, heard poor laborers'
wives warn their children to beware of
the drunken fellow"
She heard course laughs at his ex-
pense, and under the shadow of her
shawl her cheek burnt holly, but for all
that she never thought of going back
and leaving him to himself AS soon as
she could she gained his side and called
to him by name:
Edward! Edward
He turned and stood unsteadily look
ing at her in bewildered way.
"You?" he said. ''You ought to be
at home this time of night"
$50 ought we both," said Ruth.
"Come, dear.
He threw her hand of.
sim my own MASTER" he said. ''Tm
not tied to any woman's apron string!"
and staggered away again, Ruth follow
ing through the long streets with every
face turned toward them as they passed
some laughing, some contemptuous,
some terrified; out at last upon the
wharves, and there the besotted man sat
down more stupefied by the liquor he
had swallowed, in that fresh, cold air.
Ruth was thinly clad--the chill of the
sea-blast seemed to reach her very heart.
She thought of the babe at home and
tears coursed down her cheeks. Again
and again she pied with the mad man
at her side. Again and again she tried
to bring to his mind some lingering
memory of the past days when his love
and protection had been hers. In vain.
Wild fancies filled his brain, demons
born OF the fumes of rum held posses
sion of his senses. Sometimes he thrust
her from him, sometimes he gave her a
maudlin embrace, and babe her bring
him more liquor, but go home he would
not. The distant hum of the city died
out at last, all was still with the strange
stiffness of a city night. The frosty
stars twinkled overhead. Now and then
a night boat passed up the river, with
measured beat and throb. Once a ruff
family looking fellow sauntered past
them on the pier, but though he flung
her an insolent word and yet more inso-
lent laugh, and went away singing yet
more msolently, he did not approach
them. So benumbed had Ruth grown,
SO cold to the very heart was she, that
the power of motion had almost deserted
her, when at last, as the church clock
not far away tolled the hour of four, the
degraded man staggered to his feet and
reeled homeward. She followed feeblv.
and only by clinging to the balustrade
could she mount the wretched stairs It
was bitter cold within as without, but she
was glad to find herself at last under
shelter. Her babe still slumbered and
she did not waken it. Her frozen bosom
could only have chilled the little crea-
ture. There were few bits of broken
wood in one corner, and with these she
made fire i'll the old stove, and crouched
over it, striving to gain some little
warmth, while he1 husband slumbered
heavily upon the bed in the corner,
to which he had staggered ON his en-
| trance.
Thus an hour passed by, and Ruth
also fell asleep. The silence, the pleas
ant warmth at her feet, tine fancy that
all her trouble was over for the night,
lulled her to pleasant dreams. From
them she was awakened by the loud
ringing of the factory bell and by the
sound of cries and shouts in the street
below. She cast her eyes toward the
bed-her husband was not there ? to-
ward the cradle--it was empty. She flew
1 n WIN xhn ck-s fIxIl ~
factory boys with their tin kettles. Some
great jest amused them nightly. They
roared, they danced, they tossed their
ragged caps on high, they shrieked in
unmusical laughter, and the object OF
all this mad mirth was only too evident.
On the steps of the liquor store OPP
posite stood Edward Holly, holding his
child in his arms and exhibiting for the
benefit of the delighted crowd all those
antics of which an intoxicated man alone
is capable. He called on the grinnina
master of the gin-cellar to ''give this
child gsome brandy" and turned the
screaming infant about in manner thai
left no doubt that he would end by drop
ping it upon the broken pavement.
| Wild with terror Ruth rushed out into
the street, and made her way through
the crowd to the spot where her husband
stood, but before she reached him the
scene had changed.
| Some boy more brutal than the rest
had thrown handful of mud into Ed
ward Holly's face, and he, Keeling and
disappearing, had dashed forward to re.
venge the act.
The child had been flung away at the
first step, but fortunately had been
caught by an old woman who, though
degraded creature herself, had enough
of the woman remaining to.save an in
FAINT from injury.
And now the whole horde of boys beset
the drunken man, pelting him with
sticks and stones and decayed vegetables
from the kennel, and reveling in the
brutal delight with which such a scene
always seem to inspire boys of the lower
| classes.
Il p,,II, .