The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1888-02-18
A SAD STORY.

1t doesn't seem right to tell you any
thing that will cloud your faces, yet it
is, perhaps, best after all, that you
should know what sorrow and trouble
our old enemy, King Alcohol, brings |
into the lives of people who are not
strongly fortified against him.
Not many months ago l was visiting |
a friend in a large Western city, and |
one day she took me in her carriage
for a drive, out in the suburbs, where |
there were many beautiful homes. |
Bright-cyed, sunny faced children were
playing on the lovely lawns about |
these homes; children playing croquet;
children tossing each other up among
the leafy boughs in swings; children
in hammocks reading story books; chill
dren digging in the dirt; girls playing
lady boys on bicycles; all of them
having good times, and so happy it
made me happy, too, just to look at
them.
After awhile we passed by one of
the loyeliest homes we had seen yet;
roses in bloom everywhere, fountains
playing, birds singing. every thing in
nature seeming joyous and glad; but
there were no children anywhere to be
seen, and the house looked shut-up and
lonely.
Then my friend told me one of the
saddest stories l ever heard. Years
before there had been boy in that
home, too; dear little innocent boy,
who was the joy and delight of his pa
pa and mamma and the good grand
mother who lived with them. But the
papa and mamma thought there was
no harm in having wine at their fine
dinners, and they let Charlie have
little, too. So he grew to love it, steal
ing it off the side-board, and thus, be-
fore they realized it, and long before
he was q man, Charlie became
drunkarl. He lost his bright, manly
looks and his frank, loving ways. and
gave those who loved him many
heartache. He spent all the money
he codld get in drunken carousals,
and one evening after he had lost all
he had playing cards, and while he
was half-mad with drink, he went
home to get more money.
But his father and mother both re-
fused to give him any. Then he went
to his grandmother. He felt sure she
would give him some, because she al
ways had done SO before. but this time
she could not, as she had spent all she
had at home that day, and it was too
late to get any out of the bank.
This made Charlie very angry, and
he told her she must give him the cost
ly diamond ring she had on her
finger. She did not want to do that,
of course, because it was her wedding
ring.
Then Charlie cursed her-just think
take the ring from her by force. Some
how-he never could tell how it hap
pened-in trying to get the ring, he
threw the poor old lady on the floor,
and the shock and the fright killed her.
Yes, there she lay. the dear old
grandmother whom he had always
loved. and who loved him so fondly,
who had often held him in her arms
as he slept. his little brown head cud-
died up on her bosom. How often she
had sat by his little bed and told him
stories, when he was almost a baby,
or knelt beside him and prayed for
God S richest blessings upon him. Now
she lay there still and cold in death,
and Charlie was her murderer.
So that bright day when l saw the
lovely home all shut up and silent, he
was away off in the penitcntiary, be-
hind iron bars, shut up from the sweet,
fresh air and sunshine. his heart filled
with vain and bitter remorse for the
crime he had committed in his drunk
en- madness, while his mother, who
had died of broken heart, slept quiet
ly in her grave beside her murdered
mother.
When l heard this sad story my
heart ached for Charlie, and for other
Charles all over the land who are
taking their first drinks and so | want
every young Temperance crusader to
fight more bravely than ever against
the demon that destroyed the happiness
of that lovely home, and above all
things never give him chance to
creep into your lips and darken and
blight your lives. -LaurG j. Rtttcn-
house, IN Union Si9na5.