Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1881-04-11
sy1nnih's Column.
THE TURNING-PoINT.

Travelling last summer through Yer
mont, CHANGED to be sitting one even
ing upon the piazza of a little country
hotel in the company of gray-haired |
man, large and wealthy manufacturer
of Massachusetts,, who was native of |
the town, but had left it years before,
and was now returned for little visit |
for the first time in nearly forty years.
Our conversation touched upon the
subject of temperance. He spoke of the
thousands of young men of the present
day whose lives were utter failures, and
who were wrecks, body and soul, through
intemperance.
Deploring this fact, he also spoke of
his own decision in the matter as the
key to all the success of his life. Then,
pointing to an old building across the
way, he said,-
when | was young man, that old
building was thriving factory, its man
ufactures the chief industry of the town.
There l earned my living. These were
the days before the subject of temper
ance was much agitated; almost every
body drank more or less. It was the
custom universally for the factory-boys
to meet on Saturday evening in certain
place, and have jolly night of it,
drinking and making merry to close up
the week. None liked this better than
myself and my especial crony, Jim
Mathers. Jim and [ usually led the
crowd in stories, songs, and drinking
toasts.
But after a while, one day it suddenly
dawned upon me that even as early in
the week as Wednesday, found myself
longing for Saturday night.
The consequences of this discovery
gave me shock, and, thank God, OPEN
ed my eyes to the way was tending.
said not word to soul, not even to
Jim Mathers, but when Saturday came,
l set out as usual for our place of meet
ing. Between here and the store-I
could set my foot upon the very spot
now-I met Jim coming towards me.
We neither of US spoke. put out my
hand and he his, though it was not a
habit with us to extend such form of
greeting, but it seemed as if the the
same thought was in each mind.
Come, Jim,' said /, 'let's make res
olution to quit
Agreed said Jim.
We kept our pledge-he till his death
some ten years after, and | till the pres
ent moment; and whatever success ]
have had in life, owe to the resolution
of that hour.
l have come back now to the old towr
to look for the boys but I find none O
them. There was not one of all tina
merry-making crowd that ever made al
impress on the world, or won even /;
position of honor"
After this little story from his owl
life, he told another, which is interestin,
as showing how times have changed iron
that day to this.
There was another young man, VIII
left the town about the same time a
himself, with the idea of educating him
self for the work of the ministry; blu
he found, after a little, that it woul
be better to change his purpose, and S
he abandoned the effort and went t
Boston for employment.
Failing to find anything more cor
genial, and unwilling to be idle. he too
position as butler or steward in on
of the first families of the city.
For time all went we'll. He foun
a good home, and his employer goo
servant.
But the day came when the gentlema
gave great party, and wine and liquo
flowed like water Before it was owe
the services of the steward were more
demand as nurse or attendant upc
guests unable to care for themselv
than in any other capacity. The ide
of the Vermont boy were in advance
his times; he was a staunch advoca
of temperance, and he was filed wi
disgust that his duties forced him
mingle in such scenes. AS soon as t
next day dawned. he appeared quiet
before his employer with request
a settlement of accounts. and the a
noucement that he must leave him.
Why" said the stately geutlems
shave you not good home?"
"Yes."
"Are you not satisfied with yc
wages ?"
Yes"
Then why do you leave? L
satisfied with you, and would not h;
you leave me, and you will not read
find another such home, think"
"Well, then, he replied. hesitating
81 cannot stay in place where | m
mix with drunken men as l did
night II
One can hardly tell whether the F
ton gentleman, who opened his doors