The Press., 1885-04-23

DON'T SELL MY FATHER RUM
 Don't sell him another drink, please,
 He's reeling already. you see,
 And fear when he comes home tonight,
 He'll beat my mother and me.
 ''She's waiting in darkness and cold,
 And dreading to hear him come homo.
 He treats us so bad when he's drunk;
 Oh! don't sell him any more rum
 ''Why don't you have something to sell
 That vii not make people so sad;
 That will not make dear mothers grieve,
 And kind fathers cruel bud 's---~~-ees
 "Ah, me it is hard. And see
 You're angry because I have come
 Forgive poor, sad little girl,
 And don't sell my dear father more rum. )
 Mir. Bowly, in speaking at Plymouth in behalf of the Gospel Temperance cause, said I have in my mind two death-bed scenes. One of them was related to me by my friend William White, the late Mayor of Birmingham, and the other came under my own observation. Mir. White told me that on one occasion in visiting the poor, he heard shriek come from the other side of the road, and going into a wretched room (and how wretched is the drunkard's home) he saw huddled in a corner on heap of rags, a miserable ob- ject, who was cursing and swearing most awfnlly. The man was under the influence of delirium tremens, and as MT. White stood by his tattered pallet, and whilst the man was still blaspheming Gods holy name, his guilty spirit fled to the Maker who gave it. His wife seeing he was dead, remarked "Now he is gone hope we shall have little peace , Now, turn with me (continued MT. Bowly) to another death bed scene. It is that of one of my clerks. He died quietly and peacefully, and his wife in her poignant grief clasped him round the neck, exclaiminR, Nobody knews what have lost That is how Ii should be. But what sufferings that other woman had undergone that she could thank God that her husband was dead Oh, what miseries this drink causes. ''--- Eaglish Paper. :.
 To gain the prohibition that will prevent the opening of a saloon, or the smoke of g distillery from darkening the heavens, and thereby save homes from want and hearts from woe, we must agitate and educate. Speakers must abound, and papers and tracts must be scattered by the millions. The anti-tobacconists find a strong ar gument in curious fact that has just been made public in relation to the Greedy arc tic expedition. According to Lieut. Gree. ley's account, of the nineteen men who perished all but one were smokers, and the one was the last to die.
 They tell us, said John B. Cough, that alcohol gives strength and nourishment. No, it does not, it does not, it gives stimu. Jus. You sit down on hornets nest, and it may be qnickening but not nonrishing. A man once said to friend of mine :s'sYou are fighting whiskey. Whiskey has done great deal of good. Whiskey has saved a great many lives. "Yous remind me, 2 said my friend, ''of boy who was told to write an essay about pin, and in his boy ish way he said "A pin is very curious sort of thing. It has round head and sharp point, and if you stick them into you they hurt, and women use them for cuffs and collars, and men use them when their buttons are off. If you swallow them they kill you. For five cents you can get packet of them, and they save thousands of lives" The teacher said, What on earth do you mean? How have they saved thousands of lives ? By peo- pie not swallowing them,' answered the bOy "-Rescate.