The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-02-02

to return home to his dear ones and
was only waiting for spring to open to
take his departure.
At some time in the past Clock Jones
had been drunkard. Perhaps the
tears and prayers of a loving wife had
wrought his rescue. He had braeed
against the awful vice, and none of US
had ever known him to taste the stuff.
Well, itmight have been curiosity that
one day led the man to enter the shanty
of the worst blackleg of all. If not
that, then he was drawn there, as Fate
has drawn her victims here and there
before He was man who would not
touch cards, and, as said before, we
had never seen him taste liquor. And
yet within half an hour after he had
entered that den he was whooping
drunk and being plucked of his money.
Several OF his friends made efforts to
get him out of the clutches of the
blacklegs, but their kind words were
answered by threats and curses The
man had changed from quiet, God
fearing miner to a bowling, reckless,
brawling demon in thirty minutea
One sip of whisky had created cray-
ing for drink, and dram had followed
dram with frightful avidlty.
We couldn't let him 90 on that way.
and finally miner named Williams was
prevailed upon to make another effort.
We selected this man because at home
he was a neighbor of Jones, and be-
cause he, too, had saved up a snug little
sum and would 90 home in the spr NO.
The two men, alter hard days work,
had sat together by the cheerful fire of
evening and anticipated their return
home. They had planned how they
would reach home in the evening, still
wearing their old clothes and long
boards and rough looks, and after an
absence of seven years NJ one would
know them as they walked the streets of
the village. They would quietly APP
proach their own homes, and their
knock would be answered by the wife
who had waited and hoped and lived on
hoping. He would speak to her as
stranger, and he would be on the point
OF turning away when something in
voice and gesture would tell her thatthe
long-gone husband was home at last.
So they had planned, and neither had
been ashamed of the tears which welled
up to his eyes at the recollectiOns of
home.
We sought out Williams and entreated
him to interfere and save his friend,
and he walked straight to the gamblers
cabin. Jones had lost every dollar of
his money and was fighting drunk
Come, Clock, come away" coaxed
Williams.
81 won't! want more whisky and
chance to win my money backr' shout
ed Jones.
For your wife's sake, come away"
entreated Williams.
g I tell you | won t, and if you dom t
go away I'll kill your yelled Jones. as
he ilourished his shooter around.
Williams walked over and laid his
hand on his friend shoulder and whis-
pered:
"Come, old neighbor, remember wife
and children"
Course wife and children and YOU,
too!' was the fierce exclamation from
the maddened man, and with that he
fired to kill.
The bullet did not kill. Indeed, it did
not hit Williams at all, but the flame of
bIIO DOWucI DIluQGu LIlu III IL HdSu duu
forever. He carried his hands to his
face, stepped back pace or two. and 1
can never forget how his voice went to
every heart as he cried out:
"Ohl man, you have blinded me,
and shall never see wife and children
againP'
The demon fed from Clock Jones'
heart as that wall reached it. In a mo-
ment he was pale as death and as sober
as at any hour in his lie. Slowly. as
the darkness of his brain was lighted up
by the return of reason, he comprehend
ed what he had done. He looked from
face to face and saw the horror resting
on each countenance. Then he took
poor Williams hands down from his
face, kissed him on his cheek, and
stepped back and blew his own brains
out before hand could be raised to
prevent. Detroit Free Press.