Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1881-08-24
Sympathy for the Drunkard.

I tell you there is not village or town
in this country that sustains and supports
the liquor-trafIic but is bound in honor to fur
nlsh places of refuge for every poor victim
OF the drink. My sympathies 90 out to
these men. | do not believe in coddling
them or making pets of them, but believe
in helping them to help themselves, and to
remove as fast as we can temptation out of
their way. One thing more. When the
poor wrecks come to me by the score some
times thank God have no son. One Scotch.
man said al am lost laddie." And so
many of them are lost i sometimes thank
God have no son to be lost but If | had,
| would rather take him to the vilest and
dirtiest grog-shop that could be found, and
keep him there for half an hour than to
take him into the most respectable social
drinking circle in Saratoga. If | took my
boy fresh from his pure home, fresh from
the touch OF his mothers knee, fresh from
Sunday.school exercises, into such den as
that would brighten him. He hears strange
sounds; he does not like the odor of the
place; he puts his hands 10 his ears "Take
me out of this, papa. What are these men
doing | don't like it. Oh take me away"
But in the social circle, where the mother
smilingly offers the wine 10 her guests and
the minister under whose preaching the boy
has sat gives assent to it by smile, there
he will take his first glass. So if we wish
to prevent this evil, we must assail the drink
ing customs Of society that are made fash
ionable and respectable. The moderate
drinker tells us we are very hard on him.
do not pretend to say that the moderate
drinker intends to do this mischief. A lady
said to me My son, eighteen years of age,
came from his chamber one New Years
morning and said Happy New Year,
mamma While seated at his breakfast he
said Now, mamma, am going out for the
first time in my life to make New Years
calls, and | mean to make business of it (;
good-morning, and he kissed her on both
cheeks. She said she stood in the bay win
dow and watched him till he turned the
corner and then drew a long sigh of salts
faction. "My boy, sweet, pure, clean, lovely /
| was proud of him. thought of him all
day." At night came ring at the bell, a
strange sort of a ring, and instead of per-
mitting the servant to go she went herself
and there she beheld two young men hold
ing up her drunken son. She said: "Bring
him in" They laid him on the carpet.
q And them" she said, al sat down and
lifted his head in my lap. tried to comb
his hair; it was all matted and damp his
lips, that were so pure aud sweet, were
cracked and dry, and his breath, that was
like the odor of newly-gathered violets, was
horrible stencil. My boy The eyes half
closed, just showing the white; the horrible
breath pouring forth its pestiferous efiluvia
My boy His face seemed to be so changed.
1t was so smooth when he went out, but now
it looks coarse. Mr.. Cough" she said, (" if
that had been the work Of my boys enemy
it would have been comfort to look upon
him and feel that it was the work of my
boys bitterest foe; but if that is the work
OF my boys friends God have mercy on
me for | have but very little hope for his
future" And she said that was not the
last time by many that he came home to
her drunk. Who gave him his first glass