The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1881-07-29

Ono day last summer a TEMPERANCE
lecturer was being driven from one
town to another, where he was to hold
meeting in the evening. His friend,
in whose carriage he was riding, and
who was most jealous in everything
associated with temperance, was asked,
GLOW is it that you, who have never
felt the tooth of the serpent, should al
ways be so ready to make sacrifices for
the good causeW
lie gave quick, searching, tele-
graphic glance at the speaker. A tear
cleaned in his eyes as he said, "One
reason why wanted to ride with You
was to tell You the story of a most i'm.
portant crisis in my life.
81 was born in the year 1928. Nv
father was very Incorporate man.
The most of his time was spent in the
tavern in my native town, or al q vii
lage tavern about three miles distant.
We often suffered for the necessaries
of life while my father poured all his
earnings into the tills of those two tav.
ern-kcepers. My mother was quite ex.
pert with her needle. and thus kept the
wolf at bay by her industry and close
economy. Our little home was left to
us by my grandfather in such way
that my father could not spend it or
deprive us of shelter. We kept q cow,
which furnished q large share of our
living. The family consisted of myself
and three sisters.
Gone day, when / was abont seven
years old, my father went to the tavern,
and while taking his accustomed drink
discovered that some one had spoken
OF him as common drunkard. He
furiously demanded of the landlord the
name of the person who had said this,
and the fellow replied, your wife
knows all about it, lie came home
Infatuated with drink, and began abus-
ing my mother in language which il
makes me shudder to remember, she
protesting that she did not know any,
thing about it. Finally his face purplcd
with passion; he delt my mother ter
rible blow, which Frustrated her bleed
ing and insensible to the floor"
Here the relater broke down COM
pletely, bursting into tears. After a
moment, he said, 81 hope you will par
don my emotion; but now, after per-
iod of nearly fifty years, cannot refer
to this picture without the sad face of
my mother rising before me. NV sis
tor shreked, ooh, father, you have kill
ed my motherv Ailrighted, sprang
from my bed, and ran to the barn and
hid myself.
When daylight came all was still i'm
the house, and | crept back TO find tn at
my grandmother had gone to seek a
doctor, who, finding my mother in a
critical condition, told my father. who
had just risen from his drunken slum.
Der, that he would certainly be punish.
ed for his violence. lie gathered what
few clothes he had together and alb
seconded, leaving us TO get along the
best way we could. When my father
had left the house, my mother tenderly
drew me to her braest, and, with the
tears streaming over her cheeks, made
me promise never TO drink drop of
liquor while l lived, and sealed that
promise with passionate kiss, which
left an indelible impress upon my heart. |
For nearly fifty years | have kept that
pledge. That summer VIC got along |
with The help of our neighbors we
cultivated the little patch OF ground. |
ana with our COW we did not suffer for
food. My mother raised a flock of
turkeys also, with which sic hoped to
obtain means to purchase our shoes and
other necessary clothing for winter.
There was to be militia muster near
The village. The landlord of the little
Tavern have spoken of came TO pur-
chase our turkeys for that occasion,
Offering a good price, which my mother
gladly accepted. lie put them in his
cart, and handed my mother bill which
ny father had contracted at his bar.
md jumped into his cart and drove
way as fast as his horse could go.
"My poor mother stood there dumb
founded, and bursting into tears, walk.
ID into the house. Early and late all
hat autumn she worked, sometimes mi
'ast midnight, 10 get our winter cloth
ng, and went barefoot until the snow
oycred the ground before she could
purchase our shoes. Oh! when think
Il my broken.hcarlcd mother, and nv
orrow-laden childhood, do you won
Ter am a radical temperance manu-
! seems as il Gods retribution follow
d that tavern keeper. He died a poor
Dathsome drunkard, forsaken of God
nd man."