The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1888-09-07
MARY DOLAN's ALBUM.

For a week she had served faithfully in
the place of the one maid-of-all-work, who
was taking her summer 'outing," and
now that the weeks wages had been paid,
the recipient had invested all in drink, and
not knowing what she was doing, had re-
turned in a beastly state of intoxication.
Her grumbling voice had sounded in the
kitchen since early morning, more like the
ina rticulate growl of some brute animal,
as she poured into Hannah's not too fastid-
ious ears her drunken mumblings.
Every moment | thought she would go,
and that | would be rid Of her forever.
During her stay | had had frequent talks
with her, for l knew of her besetting sin,
and had been foolish enough to hope that
in one week of temperance and temperate
talks, [ could help her to a better mode of
life. But in her present state, | knew that
no words would avail, and just what to do
with her | could not tell. / was growing
distracted as the almost inhuman utter
ances reached me in my chamber above.
Answering the summons to breakfast, /
passed out through the dining-room, be-
lieving that my appearance before the in
ebriate wretch would at least melt her into
shame, or cause an instant retreat. I had
meditated no speech. I heartily wished 1
could do the poor woman soma good, for
woman she still w~as-daughter, sister.
wife, mother. She had borne every sacred
relation in life, this wretched creature,
now more beast than human.
AS entered the doorway she arose, curt
sled, and said, as plainly as she was able,
II am about to go, num-, and I'll bid you
goodbye"
1t was to this 1 had said, Eyes, go. No
one wishes to see you here again"
The words had no mt escaped my
hasty lips than I would nave given worlds
to recall them. Such a wounded, hurt
look m over the poor brutalized face
such as one sees in the pleading face of
some dumb animal. She turned away,
and then suddenly faced about and said:
II am coming back again. | have left my
album on your table. 1t has my sons pic
ture in it." Then she went, and the alley
gate was closed and fastened behind her.
Filled with loathing, yet touched, too,
with compassion for the SHINING, debased
creature, l opened with some curiosity this
relic of her better self, when, a few min
utes afterward, l found her album on my
table. The first page contained the picture
of a delicate young girl-doubtless the
daughter who had died, for in the weeks
%sojourn | had learned stray facts concern
ing Mary Dolan's history.
She had told me much of her son. She
had several sons, but this one seems to
have been at once her pride and despair.
He had torn himself from the Catholic
church, and, studying for the ministry in
another faith, had gone as a chaplain in
the army. Here he lost his life. Her
other son also had persisted in the army,
and now, upon the pension which she de-
rived from their faithful service to the
Government, she was living, or rather she
was deiling, the life that was given her.
But l turn over the leaves of the album.
All! here is the boy, I think, as on the next
page | see the earnest, resolute face, half
playful, half defiant. 1t is a face full of
promise. viii | see its fuller development
farther on in the book? Then follow the
conventional album pictures: women stand
ing in full crinoliue, elderly persons with
the respectable book clasped in unaccus-
toned fingers; then soldier laddies, brave
in sashes, swords and gauntlets. Then a
face flashed forth, literally flashed. A
face on which was stamped Authority, a
head that might have worn a crown, and
none nave questioned its p~rerogative. Can
it be that this is ''my son. o whom | had
heard so much. | turn to the picture of
the lad on the second page. The same
broad, high forehead, the same
square chin, and strong, straight nose.
The defiant expression of tae boy is ma
tured into the habitual firmness and reso-
luton Of the man. Oh, what a man to be
the son of such a mother, | turn over
page after page, but revert constantly to
this picture, seeking vainly to know the
mystery of its power. All! from these
firmly compressed lips might have issued
a "Go, and come no more in my sight"
They were lips framed for such utterances.
If they had said it, it would have been be-
cause the king on his throne, the kingly
intelligence seated behind those brows,
had commanded the words most fitting for
the hour. But /, a weak woman, fretted
by the magpie jabbering of n made i'm
beetle by that which seems to me the most
despicable vice on the face of the earth, /,
without communicating with my law
giving intelligence, had impatiently said
the words, $50; no one wishes to see you
here again" What was my prayer as |
sank to rest the night before. ''Give me
charity, lear God" How mockingly the
words rang in my ears as | recalled them,
still glancing over the pictures before me.
and thinking of her son! What had he
borne? How much did he know of his
mothers shame? Did he ever see her
DRINK?
| turn the next leaf. and startle at a
familiar face. 1t is Mary's self looking
out upon me; Mary, the mother Of sons
aud dauchfarS iha lavad wife. the resnaet-