The Hickman courier. [volume] (Hickman, Ky.) 1859-current, 1881-06-03

almost a happy one, but alas, the sunny
i siope adown which it seemed so easy to
slide, daily grew darker as the years flew
| on. How they began TO tell her the fate
before her, Ruth hardly knew.
A little flush of shame came first when
his step was unsteady and his voice too
loud. Then q grieved tear or two when
| he was unreasonable. Then a sorrow
| that kept her heart aching night and
| day, for the man who first won lnsplr-
| alton from the glass now lost 1t IN ITS
ldepths; lectures TO be delivered were not
given to the expectant public because
'.of the illness of the lecturer. "
Ruth knew what that illness meant,
and tried to hide it. Literary work was
neglected also. Money was lost that
might have been easily won. Debts
| grew and credits lessened, the handsome
suite OF reSzias was exellauRetls fars s.tlf,
quite shabby. Ruth's dress became
poverty stricken. her husband was out
at the elbows and at the toes-he was in
l.toxicated from morning until night, and
| yet she loved him and chung to him,
and in his sober moments he loved
her as fondly as ever. Sometimes,
the old strength and the old
hope would be aroused in him
and he would struggle to regain his
lost position. but it was all in vain.
rum triumphed, and in five years from
her wedding day Ruth found herself
with her one remaining child, the first
having died within year of its birth, In
the dingiest of wretched tenement
.houses, in a state bordering upon beg
gary. 9-s -.-s --
Edward had been more madly intoxi-
/ lof l, ho1
given her q blow, and now, as the night
iwore on, he muttered and raved and
called for brandy. and cursed her and
himself until she trembled with fear.
AT last, as the clock struck 10, he
started to his feet and staggered out
of the room, vowing to get drunk some
where.
Poor Ruth stood where he had left her
for few moments The memory of the
past was strong on her that night. Just
at this hour five wears before they had
fled from her fathers home together.
How tender he was, how loving,
how gentlel How he vowed that
she would never regret that night and
how had he kept those promises? He
had broken every vow-he neither cher
ished nor protected her His worldly
goods he had given to the ravenous de-
mon, drink, his love had become some
thing scarcely worth having, and yet
she loved him and clung to him. She
tried to feel cold and hard toward him,
but she could not; she strove to remem-
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
ful 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 a blanket and laid it in
its poor cradle. Then she threw her
warm shawl over her head, and hastened
down the street, busy this late Saturday
night with market-going people of the
poorer classes.
T A little way before her reeled the
handsome, broad-shouldered figure of
her husband, aud she, a lady bred and
born fastidious, elegant, accomplished,
reared il 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 hotly, 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.
''Yon?" he said. ''You ought TO be
at home this time of night.
$50 ought we both,' said Ruth. !
Come, dear"
He threw her hand off.
"Im my own master" he said. ''Im
not tied to any woman's apron stringl'
and staggered away again, Ruth follow
ing through the long streets with every
face turned toward them as they passed
some laughing, some ,scontemptuous,
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 liinsserilTEy-
memory OF the past days when his love
and protection had been hers. In vain.
Wild fancies filed 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.
maudiin embrace, and babe her bring
him more liquor, but go home he would
snot. The distant hum of the city died
out at last, all was still with the strange
stiffness of city night. The frosty
stars twinkled overhead. Now and then
a night boat passed up the river, with
measured beat and throb. Once n ruff
fianly-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 vet
: more insolently, 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 feebly.
and only by clinging to the balustrade
could she mount the wretched stairs. 1t
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 a fire in the old stove, and crouched
over it, striving to gain some little
warmth, while her husband slumbered
heavily upon the bed in the corner,
to which he had staggered on his en-
franco