The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1889-09-11
"AH, THAT'S THE QUESTION,
An Amazing Temperance Tale Told by u
Nassau Street Barber.


An Amazing Temperance Tale Told by u
Nassau Street Barber.
You're a reporter?" observed a new
barber as sun man leaned back in
his chair. i've done considerable
writing myself" he continued, as he
. filled the reporters eyes with lather.
Yes, indeed. I've written poem that
was published in the Barriers journal,
and L am at work on temperance
story that will paralyze the rumsellers.
Shall l repeat it,"
AS the barber had by this time be-
gun operations on the reporters chin
with his razor, protestation would have
been unayaiing, and the author con-
tinued:
1T begins like this In a lonely
house-a small house furnished bare
there sat thin, pallid woman dressed
In meagre garments, through which
the cold wind blew in fitful gusts.
Around her were huddled three thin,
pale, half-starved children. There was
no food in the pantry, no fuel In the
stove. Why was this the case? All!
that's the question.
In a low grog shop in the neighbor-
ing hamlet, surrounded by crowd of
drunken men, there sat being that
had once been man. He was besotted
with rum. His bloated face was buried
in his red hands. He was asleep. He
was drunkard. Whywas he a drunk
ard? All that's the question.
Mother, why doesn't father come
home?' asked one Of the three pale
children of the pallid woman in the
lonely house ALI! that's the question.
/ will start out for him and bring
him home, mother, exclaimed the
child.
Brave boyp replied the parent,
between her sobs. And so into the
cold, dark night the fearless child went
out. But why was this midnight and
perilous journey necessary? All! that's
the question.
a tap at the door of the grog-shop.
A deep mutter among the men whose
unlawful amusement it had inter
rupted. The door opened and the
child walked in.
Father he cried, as he leaned over
the sleeping wretch, will YOU come
home with me? All! that's the ques-
ton.
Father and child-drunken beast
and pure innocence-handi in hand pur-
sued their lonely way over the dark
and rocky road that led to the deserted
home. By the side of the path was a
steep precipice. Here the twain
paused. The man sat down to think.
What thoughts, think you, were pass
So, +hro,,o,b HI 81, ~, o,.o 1aI l,ro;,, l.
that's the question.
"They were awful thoughts -
thoughts of murder! He had been
torn away from his haunts by the firm,
pale hand of his little child. His wife
had set spy on his track. The insult
should be wiped out. But how? All
that's the question.
"Five minutes of silent but awful
meditation suffice. Starting to his feet,
the enraged man grasped his little son
by the waist, and held him at arm 5
length over the steep precipice.
Father murmured the child plain
lively, shall l ever see mother again 2
All! that's the question.
81 don't see why little johnny does
not come homel" exclaimed the pallid
WOmdn III Jne lonely mousse as IKE ufSt
streaks of dawn lit up the empty pan
try shelves. Can any harm have be
fallen him?' All! that's the question.
Dawn saw pale man, trembling at
every joint, gazing with bloodshot eyes
over steep precipice at little heap
of clothes lying on the cruel rocks be-
low. The drunkard's brain reeled wlth
horror. Had he murdered his child
All! that's the question.
In solitary cell in the Blackwell
Island Insane Asylum there sits pale
thin man, with long white hsir and
vacant,ey All day long he means
aloud, Why did do it? Oh why did
1 do it? All my friend, that's the ques-
ton.
Il think that will produce an effect,
continued the barberas he finished the
narrative. The story is a true one
and 1 have written it in poetry as vel
as in prose. If you will come in to
morrow viii give you copy of the
verses. Thank you. Very much
obliged, sir. I'll have them copied on
for you. Brush here. Next. "-Nelt
York sun.