Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1885-03-11
Gales aud Sketthts.
A Temperance Tale.

Temperance Tale.
BY ELIZA GILBERT HURD.
Continued from yesterday
Nearly every time necessitated remov-
al which the wretched man never noticed,
nor the cheapening. more poisonous eff
fects of his daily drink.
These changes affected Crosby's bust
ness. He found other offices to take care
of ; but he could not walk as he used to,
and his old customers took him too far
away from his father, he had to give them
up, and in the community where he lived
the demand for papers was small.
The depths were reached: miserable
attic up four flights of stairs was all he
could afford. The roof sloped down to
the floor, and only a few feet on one side of
the room, was high enough for Mr. Holt
to stand upright A window with two
rows of small panes afforded the light.
The low groggery where Mr.. Holt got
his liquor. shared in the same dilapidated
appearance. A long, narrow, dark room
with single window; one of the panes
boarded up; one stuffed with an old hat !;
one cracked into several pieces, held to-
gether with daub of putty; one out en-
tirely; the rest streaked with tobacco
Juice and dirt, so that the smoky rays OF
| light that tried to enter, were farther dim
med in the attempt.
| Miserable, cheap, poisonous whiskey
was served over rickety counter--rotted
at one end and settled-in itself type of
the effects of liquor. The sounds that
greeted the outsider from this den. were,
at first, boisterous laughter, and later,
riotous revelry, then subsiding into death
like stiffness, as the sots were carried to a
back shed and laid upon the rough floor
in rows. to sleep off their inebriety. The
sign OF ''Choice Wines and Liquors. had
slipped one end its fastenings. and creak-
ed and banged with every passing wind :;
even the letters were marred and discolor-
ed. and would have been hard to make
out. if not so familiar.
Poor as Crosby's home was, there was
another exactly like, separated by thin.
board partition. and occupied by Mrs.
Bennlson and her daughter Inez. They
were neighbors in the true acceptance OF
the term. Mrs. Bennison's apartment was
fitted up more comfortably because of
woman's touches. She papered the walls
and whitewashed the ratters herself; and
this, with few pieces of plain furniture
in good repair, gave the room an air OF
responsibility.
Mrs. Bennison made vests, and Inez had
a crossing to sweep and errands to do, SC
they did not really suffer, unless from
cold, for it was sometimes impossible tC
warm the attic in very cold weather, wher
the wind and snow searched small entran
ces unseen to the naked eye.
Crosby was happier in this place thar
he had been since his mother died. They
were the first real friends he had found
Mrs. Bennison and Inez, and they helped
him in many ways, often cooking his soup
and though he meant to furnish his share
yet. the fine art otcooking being unknown
to him, he was not aware of the addition
OF an extra potato. onion, or other vegeta-
BILE, that largely increased the nutriment
and delicious flavor Many tid-bits found
their way to his bare larder. because "Ma-
ma cooked more than we needed" Inez
said. when she brought them in.
The engineering that it took to get Mr.
Holt up four flights of stairs was marvel
lous. Crosby seemed on all sides of his
father at once, boosting, pulling, propping
"a wonder that they did no. both roll to
the bottom, yet they never did Mr.. Holt,
so used to his sons motions, had an intui
tive perception of what he was to do. The
worn, rickety stairs creaked and groaned
Crosby pulled wheezed, but the inmates
of tenement houses are undisturbed by
these sounds even at late hour.
The time had come when Crosby
| Toll fhafh nn fail
the stairs again. he was so weak He nc
longer paced the streets by the police
mans side. but huddled in some corner,
or the gutter, looking like a heap of last
years leaves, cast-off garment. pile OF
garbage, deserted and dissected lot of
rags and papers, only that he shifted his
resting-place more frequently than these
inanmate things.
The policemen. after they knew him,
never noticed him only to call him a"silly
fool" or poke him with their canes to be
sure he was alive.
Crosby's great brown eyes. growing
more hollow every day. never closed
never left the blackened door that hid his
father. One thing in his favor, his father
, was not drinking as much, did not stay as
, late. from the fact. knowing the boy s
habits, the rum seller turned Mr.. Holt out
when he had drunk as much as he thought
the boy could pay for.
AS the seasons of intelligence grew
longer from less drink, and the disserta-
tons upon Blackstone more lucid, Crosby
, tried to understand and reason, spending
precious time. when he ought to be earn.
ing their bread, in OBTAINING his father
from going out to attend to the new
case"
Mrs. Bennison advised Crosby to re-
monstrate with his father in regard to his
habits. He thought it would be disre
4, spectful; he did frame words in his mind
sometimes, but they as often died on his
lips.
One morning Crosby 'ked Inez to 90
, with him to deliver his papers. he said he
} did not feel WELL and so tired. She had
often gone, for fun. she said, but really to
help him. she was so strong and well,
she could spring into crowd with paper
and out again, quick and true on her
feet while Crosby was almost sure to be
knocked down.
He looked so tired, Inez begged him to
go home and leave her to finish the bust.