The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1883-10-18

There was o breathless silence for O
moment, and then loud and long accla.
nations greeted the good Samaritan of
our sketch as he bowed to the waiting
throng. It had seemed to them as the
last speaker hushed his voice, that the
theme, world wide as it is, was quite ex-
hausted. but SO impassioned was the elo-
quence that now mastered it, that they
hung upon every word as if he had
spoken of something fresh from heaven.
Where others had generalized, he indi.
vidualized. He did not take the mass OF
drunkards. but only one out of them ell,
and he portrayed his course in such
vivid colors that the audience seemed
gazing upon diss0lving views rather than
listening to chosen words; and so
wrought up were they that when he
pictured that horrible scene in the
tragedy of drinK. where the husband
levels to the floor the wife which once
slept so sweetly upon his bosom, the
wife that is the mother OF his children,
they seemed to hear the gentle and
wronged one fall, and sobs and signs
broke forth from the assembly. The
speaker paused till they were quiet,
wiping, meanwhile, the tears from his
own cheeks.
"Do you ask" said he, when he again
resumed his theme, lido you ask why 1
stand here tonight and speak these
things? Why, not only speak but feel
them? Look at this" he said, lifting
the glossy looks from his left temple.
do you see that scar on my forehead?'
In the brilliant gaslight it was per-
fectly visible to many watchful eye; it
was CHASTITY, frightful looking SER,
marring the beauty of brow that might
otherwise have b en- o painters model.
Slowly and solemnly did the speaker
utter each word, then AS he stood push.
ing back the raven hair. continues:
latter the drunkard had felled his wife
to the floor he would have kicked her
PROSTATE form but that her young son
rushed between the two. What did the
drunkard do them" he exclaimed in a
voice Of thunder. Another pause and a
breathless hush. More slowly, more
solemnly did he speak: HE seized
knife" he continued: AYE, and the one,
too, his gentle wife herself had laid be-
side his plate for him to carve the dish
her worn and weary fingers had earned
to sustain his life; he seized it and-did
this!" and he pointed to his forehead
ITO my grave shall carry this scar and
not till rest in my grave shall l cease
to plead for the drunkard's children"
With these words fresh on his lips he
withdrew. There was no applauding,
but silence as of death rested in the
vast hall. Ere it was broken by prayer
or hymn AN aged man, older though it
seemed with grief than years, tottered
upon the platform. Trembling in every
nerve and muscle, he leaned against the
desk, and finally grasped it for support.
Many times did his lips move ere he
could utter an audible sound, and when
he did speak his words were rather felt
than heard.
1.-THE son has spoken" he said, now
let the father. With the scar on his fore.
head yet bleeding, my Ernest. my first
born, my noble boy, went from his home
to seek among strangers the peace his
father would not give him on his own
hearthstone. Ten years from that time,
one week ago tonight, that son picked
up his father from gutter, and instead
OF spurning him as fallen sinner he
took him to his home as though he had
been the angel instead Of the demon OF
his youth. Deep is the scar on his fore
head, but deeper are the scars on my
heart. We have heard him-ye see me.
Let the story and the sight be your sal
walton. as it even now is my own"
The old man was exhausted and fell
back into his sons arms.-Truth.