The Nevada picayune., 1885-01-29

alone !" Salu HerDert thorpe proudly.
 Herbert was inc son of an only mother, and she widow whose husband whs dead. He was a young man of rare promises, and still rarer fhlfillment. He graduat- ed at college with brilliant honors behind the bat, the envied idol of his nine. Life opened itself be. fore him vOluntarily-like sick oyster. But alas in an evil hour say about haff-past early in the morning-the tempter with a.small i've might say a. c. t., in fact came upon him.
 He became a slave to the foe of young men, the D. D.
 Not the D. D. who breaches to a large and fashionable congrega- tion. Oh, no. The other D. D. the Demon Drink.
 He weakly yielded to the fasci- nations of his Daniel Boone com panions--Thomas and Jeremiah Bill Yards and the rest Ofthe boys.
 "Oh, shun the glass" s,"pleaded the fair young girl who liked him.
 A few weeks ago we would have seid loved him, but since Bulwer's letters were published anything of that kind is too awfdlly-the am- monnia please.
 He said he never used the glass. He was shaved at the barber's, ,and he wore a flat scarf that hid his flannel shirt and didn't have to be tied.
 "Fly the tempter," said his pas tor.
 But he said it Was all he could do to fly a little kite for thirty days, and he wasn't very fly, any how. And with this brutal and iseartlcss jest-which in his better moments Herbert Thorpe never would have uttered-the white. haired old pastor went away and crawled under n lonely tree and died some thirty years later, of ex- treme old age and starvation, brought on by two donation parties in the same week.
 "DO not trine with it," begged his friends.
 And Herbert Thorpe stood up and uttered the proud sentence with which this sad chapter begins,
 If the chapter is any sadder than the people who read it, it will shed enough tears to wet down all the paper for this issue of the able, in- fuential journal you are now pe- rusing with intense delight-nOw is the time to make up clubs, sub- cribe at cnce and avoid the rush at the door-why, oh why longer delay-time flies and money is eight per cent-send for circular and see prospectus in Another column.
 "I can drink it or let it alOne," he said proudly.
 Could he?
 We shall sec:
 A space ofperiod has elapsed, or perhaps, not so long as that.
 Herbert Thorpe enters the pal atial bar-room where the stifling odors of tobacco and decaying ci' gar stumps, and saw-dust and cheese sandwiches and the human breath divine, lure men to ruin.
 "I can drink it or let it alOne,' he whispered to himself as he or dered what he wanted und sug gested to tho gentleman behind the bar the propriety of hurrying uT the same. That gentleman shook his head with the firmness and immovable cOnservativeness of the Bartholdi fund.
 "Drinks are cash, "he said.
 Herbert Thorpe turned sadly away, with the Great American Desert raging in his parched throat
 He "let it alOne."
 Young man if you stick to it and keep at it long enough. that's what you arc coming to. You say now, "you can drink it or leave it alone." But all the same you keep on drinking it. Well, keep at it And just about the time you learn to like, and want it all the time, you will have to 'let it .alone.' You can't raise your pocketbouk by hand, my son. That is, you can't bring it up on the bottle. It won't thrive on 1t. They empty each other, but they wont fill each other up. They contrive to fill you up, but paradoxical as it may seem,