Cheyenne transporter. [volume] (Darlington, Indian Terr.) 1879-1886, 1881-09-24

aisle and ascended the elevated plat
form. There was a sudden rustic, a
buzz, and then the hush of expectancy
fell upon the vast audience. For one
moment Marcia's arm trembled upon
mine, and felt the thrill of the blood
in her veins, and then, as camly as a
moving statue, she clasped her fair
hands one over the other, and her
clear, musical voice vibrated to the
farthest recess of the room:
"Gentlemen," she said, eve are here
tonight, band of twenty, with the
bloom of girlhood upon our cheeks,
with brows yet smooth in the joyous
ness of youth, with tresses untouched
by times iron hand, with hearts that
beat with hope and love. Gentlemen.
we are here to enlist under the banner
of temperance. We this night solemn
ly pledge ourselves, God helping u.s.
here the beautiful head was reverently
bowed-"to abstain from the wine
when it is red within the cup! Never
shall the bright lips of these pure
maidens be polluted by that which
drags men from the pinnacle of noble
manhood. Gentlemen" she continued,
as she clasped the graceful waists of
two of her companions, and drew
them more prominently forward, "if
the veil of years could drop, and you
should see adown the futures vista
these bright eyes dimmed and faded,
the fair cheeks haggard and scanned,
these smooth brows SCARED with the
woe of the drunkard's wife, these snow
white robes exchanged for rags, fam
inc and despair stamped upon the in
nocent girlish faces, would it be a
pleasant picture? 1 think not. You
would shrink back, appalled, at the
vision. And yet, gentlemen, as inno-
cent in life's young morning has been
how many a wretched creature, whose
years are embittered by the demon of
drink, whose form, attenuated and fee
BILE, and clad in poverty's worn and
tattered garb, shrinks from the cruel
blows Of her drunken master Did
the young maiden dream when he whis-
pered loves sweet tale in her ear that his
voice would one day be raised to curse
her? Did the bride, in her white array,
think the warm, clasping hand of the
bridegroom would some day be lifted
in infuriated frenzy, to bruise her ten
der flesh? No, gentlemen, no! And
yet you know, and we know, and oh,
sad heart, she knows, that the heaven
of the happiest home is ruthlessly
destroyed by the mad fend, alcohol
All, there are too many broken hearts
already! Too many crushed lives to
be traced back to the blood hued and
blood-stained cup of death and degre-
dation. But, gentlemen, the name of
the 'drunkard's wife shall never be
ours to wear, for here, in the presence
of earth and angles, we solemnly VOW
that never shall one who imbibes the
Intoxicating draught, be it ever so
delicately, win our favor! We re-
nounce the society of tipplers now and
forever
A glance Of fire shot from her eyes
as she ceased speaking, and stood like
a marble goddess, sceptered and
There was one long-draWn breath,
like a sigh through the congregated
and then that stunned au-
dience was further stunned by the
sight of a tall, distinguished person
rising in their midst and pressing
resolutely and swiftly forward.
He leaped upon the platform. 1t
was Roger Earle, and, uttered in clarion
tones, these words which thrilled us
through and through:
"This noble girl, friends, is to be my
dear and precious wife. In my pride
and vanity have nightly been in your
midst and withheld my name from the