The Penn's Grove record., 1888-10-13

the place where my father was most at
bome-a father who was once my
pride.
"Mr. Greggs looked up when he saw
me enter, and asked in a jocular tone:
Wei, my lad, what can L do for you?
Is there anything In my line of business
that will hit your taste? Perhaps your
father has sent you for a little drop to
warm him up this cold night
"Imagine how my pride was reused
at those jeering words. The hot blood
rushed to my temples; the half-drunken
men watched me with noisy glee. 1t
was all fun to them. At last. holding
up my head, | walked past them all,
close up to the desk. l held out the
bill and the money to Mr.. Greggs.
'Ahl' he said with a greedy eye on the
money, your dad is paying up brisk,
this time, eh?'
"'Mr. Greggs,' l said, in as firm a
voice as L could muster, L have come
to pay the money my father owes yon
tor last year. Here it is. You can
count 1t and see that every ceat Is here,
and may it be the last
"And now my spirit was up. l went
nearer the man. | thought OF mother
and Helen. 1 spoke low and firmly.
l said, 'Mr. Greggs, 1 have n thing
to ask you: Will you promise me that
you will never sell father another
drop?'
"'Humphi' he replied, you had bet.
ter go about your business, young man.
Don't be spelling my trade. Your dad
is too good a customer to give up as
easy as this
The tears sprang to my eyes, but /
dashed them away, and going behind
the bar, l said to him in a lower voice:
Mr.. Greggs, | know that father pays
you a good deal of money. l have
thought of that. should like to make
this agreement with you; If you will
reckon up what your profit is from the
liquor you sell father, Charles and 1
Will pay it to you, if you will promise
not to sell him Il drop for a year,
"He laughed at my proposition. at
first | was angry. l cnnld have struck
him in my passion, but sOnehoW L was
so filled with pity fer mother and
Helen, and even for father, that my
anger all melted away. L was broken
in heart, and thought to soften this
man by our great sorrow. Somehow,
| don't know how it was, as | pleaded
with him in my awful agonyl fell upon
my knees. l clasped my arms around
his feet, and fairly bathed them with
my tears, as l begged him not to ruin
my father. l told him Of my mothers
breaking heart, and of little Helen's
prayers. For a moment or two he let
me lie there, and then he lifted his
foot and spurned me with his heavy
boot. He kicked me, COP he said,
you crying baby. III have none of
your pious cant and womanish tears.
Go home and tell your mother thas her
son is a weak, sniveliing boy, and tell
your sister that If she crept here on
her knees aud prayed to me, l would
not stop giving your old dad all the
drink he wants.
"When these cruel words were out,
he gave me a push and drove me out
into the street, following me with a
fearful oath that rings in my ears to
this day.
II don't know how long l wandered
around in the cold. but L know that
my tears gushed out like fountains of
water, and that great sobs shook me.
| sank down overcome with grief, and
for a time lost myself.
"When l awakened, my eyes were
like burning Goals. and IN place of a
heart | felt as if a great stone was IN my
breast. ALL the agony Of that home
comingl l told mother and Charles
all that l had experienced. l saw
their tears, but | never mingled mine
with theirs. The fountain was dry.
The great revuls!on of feeling had
come, and | was as a dumb animal,
feeling "a sorrow, but with no voice to
utter it. Now, my boy, you know why
| am called a hard-hearted man.
''In my own sorrows, the loss OF a
loved wife and children, | have stood
by their silent, dead forms, and my
eyes have been dry. l could not cry,
though my heart was breaking. Long
years ago | sobbed out all my emotions
on the floor of that grog-shop. The
cruelty of that man, a sense of his
Implying nature as J pleaded with
him, and as he put his foot upon me,
it froze my heart. My father, after
awhile, grew to be a better man. He
became a Christian.
zone Sunday morning the minister
Father Chester we called him
preached a sermon on the text: Nor
drunkards shall inherit the Kingdom OF
Cod The sermon was very powerful,
hut the prayer that followed was more
powerful, for it was tenderer. Every
one was moved when the minister
raised his arms to pronounce the bene-
diction; but just then father stepped
from the pew into the aisle, and look
ing earnestly at the minister, raised his
hand, a signal that he wished to speak.
Mr.. Chester, dropping his arms, called
out fathers name and asked him what
he had to say.
"slowly father moved down the
aisle. and when he came to the pulpit
platform, he turned around, facing the
great congregation, and then he spoke,
his voice breaking under his great
feeling. lie confessed his sin and
shame, and solemnIy promised that he
would never drink another drop OF
liquor. He asked the minister and tue
people for their prayers. Everybody
vas in tears; but |, with my heart
swelling within me, could not cry,
Father lived years after, a strong
temperance man, a noble Christian.
When he died, | mourned him, but
l06Ib WERE no LSdIS. Au1 ehSJ ooy L
never cry, do theyP The agony of not
being able to cry, has been the secret
sorrow OF my life.
81 feel for the trials and sadness of
other lives, but l cannot express it in
any outward way. SO they call me
'hard-hearted.' Little do they know
what turned my heart to stone. Mr..
Greggs, that monster OF hard.hearted-
ness, is the cause Of all this. He and
men of his profession Drutalize them
selves by their traffic in human souls.
They are putting their feet on the
necks Of proud sons, praying mothers
and sisters, and are surely crushing out
the life In them. This monster, lntem-
perance, is like a fiery dragon, breath
ing its hot breath upon human hopes,
aspirations and loves, and blightins
them forever.
"Ahr' he murmured In a sad tone,
''they call me hard-heartedl How little
they know. How little they knowr'