Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1881-03-09
The Widows Son.

Mrs. w. was a widow with an only son
an intelligent, generous, warm-hearted boy
affectionate and impulsive, one of those
genial, social natures who make friends
readily, and are easily moulded by those
who surround them.
Living in large city, many were the
temptations which met him on every hand
but he grew to manhood much under the
influence of his good mother, and many and
great were the hopes for him which were
constantly singing in her heart, and which
frightened her desolate home.
After he left school he obtained a situa-
ton in jewelers. shop, where he gave salts
faction to his employer, and soon became a
favorite with the customers Here class
of fast young men met him, were attracted
toward him, and invited him to visit with
them questionable places of resort. Flattered
by their attentions, and easily persuaded, as
the weeks and months swiftly sped by,
gradually and almost imperceptibiy there
came change in Fred.
His eye became unsteady, and no longer
looked with pure frankness straight into his
mothers when they talked together; he had
stumbling, hesitating way of doing things,
unlike his former cheerful promptness and
accuracy; and as he stayed away from home
more and more, and the marks of dissipa-
ton showed more plainly every month, his
mother saw, with breaking heart, that he
was drifting away from her, away from God,
away from all that was good, and pure, and
safe, into sin which would not only wreck
the body and ruin the mind, but would surely
end in the blackness and darkness of eternal
night.
Years passed by, bringing to the mother
disappointment and grief, tears and prayers,
privations, hard work, sleepless nights and
failing health; and to Fred, red face and
watery eyes, bloated form and unsteady
step, the loss of the confidence of his en-
ployers and of other friends all of which
Fred knew and at times he was filled with
unutterable disgust with himself, and his
manner of living. Then he would fill the
weeks with worthless resolutions, fercely
struggling with temptation and falling be-
fore it, which would be followed by days of
dependency and despair, after which he
would go on in his old reckless way.
One day he came home from the shop,
and told his mother he was going to have a
vacation of two weeks; he was tired, and
was going away to rest, but did not tell her
where he was going.
He had sixty dollars, of which he gave his
mother five, and the next morning started
Oh a drunken spree. He went from one
place to another, meeting, of course, other
wild young men who helped him spend his
money, and shared his vices. He was gone
six weeks, during which time he got into
police stations several times, giving an as
sumed name so that his friends might not
know his whereabouts. When the six weeks
of debauchery came to an end, and his
money was spent, his strength wasted, and
the companions who circled around him
while the money lasted had left him when it
was gone, he decided to return home.
He arrived there sober, tired, nearly sick,
and penniless. 1t was evening, and as he
stepped into the entry, the house seemed
strangely solemn. A neighbor hearing his
step came into the entry, and when she saw
him exclaimed:
"Oh, Fred You've come at last p and
burst into tears.
"What's the matter ?" cried Fred "wheres
mother ?"
"Oh, Fredl" sobbed the good woman
A" Your mother has been buried two weeks
He caught at the door for support, and
gasped for breath.
ave sent for YOU in all directions" con
wrote to all places where we thought you
would be likely to go, but we couldn't find
trace of you"
Fred's strength returned, SO that he heard
the last few words, and remembered that by
assuming false name he had cut off all
communication with his friends. He stag
gered into the sitting-room, and sank upor
the sofa, saying family:
"Tell it all. When was she taken sick p
GA few days after you went away" said
the neighbor. " She cried about you all the
time, SO she couldn't eat anything, or SLEEP
any hardly, and the next Monday she came
down with the fever. You know she's beer
failing for the last year.
Fred knew it noD. He had never thought
of it before; but now he recalled with q
shudder the thin, sad face and wasted form
but her smile was always loving, and hel
voice gentle, and as the past year came be
fore him he groaned aloud.
"After she was taken down." continued
the woman, 1--WE came in and took care O
her, but she would toss round on the bed
and groan, and keep saying, Oh, Fred oh
Fred + day and night. When she knew sh,
must die, she told us to tell you how sh
wanted to see you here, but she hoped you't
meet her in heaven. We couldn't under
stand near all she said, but she kept praying
for you till she died. The last word we un
derstood was Fred"
AS cruelty as Fred had neglected ant
grieved his mother, he loved her better thai
anything else, and every word the kline
neighbor told him pierced him like an ar
row. He felt that he had murdered hi
mother, his only friend, and severed ever,
tie that bound him to life or goodness. Hi
sufferings that night were indescribable
The next morning he rose with burning
brain and unstrung nerves, and went int
the street, shaking as with palsy. He wen
to his former employer and asked for work
but was refused. Then he met an acquaint
ance who asked him to drink. The day
that followed were filled with drunkenness
and despair.
One evening, good woman, city tenn
perance missionary, saw him standing de
jected in the street and spoke to him kindly
asking him why he was there.
Her kind tones, SO like his mothers
opened his heart, and he told her his name
and all the sad story of his mothers death
his loss of his situation, his subsequen
temptation, fall, and misery.
"Now you must sign the pledge" sail
Miss c., in her brisk, business-like way
"and go back to Mr.. KS to work"
"But he won't take me, said Fred-hope
however, rising in his heart.
"Yes, he will" said Miss c., am call an