The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1885-02-13

But | did, and at sixteen ! was as
drunken and profigate a boy as you could
find in the State. My father went to the
other extreme, and drew the reins so
tightly and suddenly that / resented
his restrictive measures, and the
harsh and bitter language he constantly
used towards me. He not only curtailed
my most harmless recreations, but he treat
ed me as a criminal without hope of re-
form.
81 began to think | was unjustly treated,
and my wild companions held up my father
as a cruel tyrant and myself as a victim,
and considered it a great feather in my cap
that l disobeyed him. My room was lock-
ed up by my father every night at nine
o'clock; but though it vas in the second
story, there was a rose-trellis which reach
ed my window, and | slipped in and out at
will. My mother suspected me, and, o
doctor, lean hear her gentle voice saying
"'My boy, my dear boy, for my sake, do
not go out tonight Sometimes | obeyed
her, but not often. Does it seem strange
to you, doctor, that, loving my mother as
| did, yet | persisted in breaking her heart?
1t was an unreasoning madness. | wasn't
a bit saner, no habitual drinker is, than the
raving maniac you sent yesterday to the
asylum. Yet l feel that will not exonerate
me. There was a time when | might have
broken from my bad habits, but | did not.
I'm not trying to excuse myself, doctor,
but you see it's so lard to come to the
worst part of my story that I'm trying to
nerve myself to it.
'How plainly it all comes back to me,
the last night at the old home. My father
had been harsher than usual to me all
day. For the last year, I had been prepar-
ing for L College, and my teachers had
complained to him of my neglect of my
studies and constant non-attendance. |
forget most he said, but he called me a dis
grace, and threatened to turn me out of
doors if he heard any more complaints.
My mother followed me to my room.
HE means what he says, Berthe The
tears rolled down her pale cheeks. But if
he knew what do, that night after night
you leave the house, and God knows in
what condition you return, he would drive
you away this minute. My son, my be-
loved son, pause before it is too late. For
your mothers sake, BERTHE. do not leave
this room tonight
THAT appeal had no power to arrest my
p@o,., No. 1-% .,.l 1911 a. 49,.
could have resisted it. | was engaged to a
wine-party at the house of one of my wild
friends, and by the time it was over, | was
in a state of beastly intoxication. | do not
know how they managed to hoist me up
into my own room without waking the
household, but the first thing l knew was
some one shaking me, and my mothers
voice.
"'Get up, BERTHE, for Heavens sake! 1t
is breakfast-time, and if you are not at the
table, your father will come up after YOU
''Some one called her at that moment,
and she left the room, leaving behind her
my little brother Willie, only three years
old, doctor, and the pet of everybody. l
raised myself up in bed, but declare to
you that I was as drunk as the night be-
fore. My head reeled and I fell back on
my pillow. Little Willie cried OUT
"'Bad Bertie, lazy BERTHE! If 90 don't
dit up, I'll whip 90 wild my whip
''He raised a little toy whip, and struck
me a singing blow on the cheek. l was
crazed with drink, doctor, You will believe
that. You understand that / loved the
child, and if had been sober, | would not
have harmed a hair of his pretty head.
But | was a mailman, and Selling the
baby, | threw him with all my strength,
across the room. His head struck against
the edge of a handicapped table. | was
sober enough when l heard the dull thud,
and saw him lying motionless on the floor.
Eyes, l was quite sober when the family
poured in, and | saw my mother shrink
from me, and fall motionless on her baby's
body. | understood every word my father
said when he cursed me, with CHASTITY
face and quivering lips. He dragged me
to the .hall-door, thrust some bank-notes in
my hand, and cried,-
"'Go, monster. Never let my eyes
rest upon your face again. Take the fast
est horse in my stable, and get out of the
way before a prison closes upon you, and
disgraces my name, borne by a felon. Go,
CAIN l got out of the State, and didn't
care what became of me-"
Have you never heard from your family
since then :" DR.. Vernon asked, pity
ingly.
Never. Why should torment them
farther? wasn't the penitent prodigal,
You know" with a bitter laugh, ''for he
wasn't a murderer. Do You know the
very horror of my crime seemed to swallow
up remorse? hated myself so much, and
then, too, | was never sober longer enough
to be penitent. / tried to kill myself in
my way, and you can't say l haven't sue
ceeded. l was only eighteen when that
happened. You believe me, doctor, that |
did not mean to kill Willie ?"
''Poor, unfortunate boy!" murmured DR..
Vernon. ''If you had only found some
kind, tender friend at that crisis, who
could nave helped and strengthened you to