The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1888-02-17
TEMPERANCE.
TOO LATE FOR THEM.
A Fathers Broken Promises and the A,
guish and Remorse That Followed

stove sat man or rather powerful
physique in detected attitude. his
heavy, bleared eyes fixed upon
vacancy. In one corner of the room,
upon mean bed, little child lay,
with pallid, want-pinched features,
moaning, with closed eyes, at inter-
yals
Water, waterI' she cried. family,
and listlessly arose the man and placed
cup to her feyer-parched lips
Her large eyes opened and fixed
themselves upon his face.
Father she said, as a shudder
shook her frame, "father!"
Yes" said the man. stolidly.
"Your mothers gone out to her work.
Do you want any thing?"
''Want any thingr' exclaimed the
child. family gazing about the nearly
empty room; "want any thlng?"
He caught her glance and a spasm
of pain contracted his features.
WANT" she again moaned, turning
her head YEARLY upon the pillow;
"it's always been want for mother
and me, ever since I can remember"
The mans fingers worked con-
vulsively as he replied:
"And for your poor old father, too,
Lena Don't forget your father, who
loves you So"
A smile broke over her face.
ssT oua 81 onJ h., l;++lo 49,
idly sought his. "Oh, father"
Forgive me, Lena" he cried, "for-
| give me. were drunk when | struck
We down, and didn't know what l were
doin'."
Drunk, she said, simply. Yes"
He bowed his head, while the tears
trickled down his Incorporate face
| She tried to lift her face to his, but a
groan of agony broke from her lips.
"Ye are sufferin', LenaP"
"My head, oh, my head" she
moaned, stirring it uneasily and dis
closing a much-discolored temple. at
bleeds inside, father, l think, but
never mind" she added, marking his
shame, "never mind. You never
struck me so hard before, I'll get well,
though, and you know II saved
mother, poor mother"
Her eyes closed, and seemingly she
slept. The man resumed his place be-
side the stove. His chin dropped upon
his breast, and silence-only disturbed
at intervals by faint moan from the
child-filled the room.
The afternoon waned, and the chill
of November twilight presently shook
the mans frame. Night had fallen
when the door opened and fragile,
toil-worn woman entered the room. 1t
was the wife and mother. The child
stirred and smiled into the eyes of the
compassionate ones above her. Moth
er, " she murmured, "dear mother"
"Did We get your money" eagerly
inquired the man.
"Only part of it," said the weary
woman. "Mrs. Brown always leaves
something over, yet she has, plenty of
money. There are some cold scraps,
if you want them"
I'm not hungry" said the SILVER
ing man, "but want to get Lena an
orange or two. She's been asking for
'em," he added, in low voice, turn
ing his face from her sad eyes.
I'm so tired,' answered the wife,
"and-and-I can't trust you, John,
to GO. You'll not come back"
YES I will, oh, yes, WILL" he re-
piled, eagerly; land bring wood for
a fire. I'll hev to watch by Lena while
you sleep tonight, and it's very cold.
I'm changed man, wife-a changed
man. No more want. no more drink,
no more blows. I'll be mani"
A look of hope filled her eyes. She
had caught at the straws of his prom
ises, oh, how many times, how many
times! but his tone this night was so
convincing, the sob in his throat, the
tear in his eye so unwonted, that de-
spite the past with its broken prom
Uses and failures, new hope, sweet
and strange, thrilled her being. She
gave him the few bits of silver He
stopped over the child, as he turned
to leave the room, and pressed his lips
TO hers.
Dear father" said the delighted
child, ''it's SO long since you kissed
me. Wake me up that way in the
morning, and if l groan through the
night, don't think OF the blow, but kiss
me, and I'll smile through the pain,
perhaps. -
His eyes were dry now. and so was
his throat, no sob, no tear.
"Where's Aather?" cried the child,
as the minutes sped on.
"Gone to get you the oranges you
wished, dear" was the answer.
"Oranges, cried the child. go,
how nice. but, mother, l didn't ask for
oranges. We are too poor for that,
little mother, too poor"
The wife's heart sank.
"a lie," she muttered, ga lie built
upon the sufferings of his child. Alas!
he will not come back!
Hours passed. Colder and colder
grew the room. Shivering, the mother
lay beside the child, the scanty cover
ing over both.
81 am i'll, fear,'' she murmured,
"and there's such pain at my
heart y'''' '@Ff9
Ever and anon the child groaned.
The clock from an adjoining steeple
struck one.
"Has father Gomez" cried the little
one, opening her eyes.
mo! he will be here presently,
though - YEARLY answered the mother.
The clock struck three.
HAS father come" more family
now the question.
mo, my child, no."
The white dawn of morning crept
into the room. The mother slept; the
little one ceased to groan. The sun
lifts his head, and rosy-red bushes the