Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1889-05-23
ONE oPIuM-FIEND CURED.
Sut 1t Took Term In Prison and End
less Agony to DO 1t.


Gently asked whether he ever knew a
person who had been cured of the
habit.
"Only once" he replied, "and then
1t wasn't voluntary cure by any
means. He was man about thirty
five years old, who had been a slave to
the habit for fifteen years. He was so
given up to it that his business went to
smash, and he used to resort to all
manner OF things in order to get money
to purchase a shell. He used to crave
eight shells or two dollars worth of
opium day. and | have frequently
met him in joint that was run by two
tough Cinnamon in Marion street. Of
fering to roll for smokers in order TO
share their opium. One day he had
been without smoke for about seven
hours, and he became SO desperate
that he tried to rob the till in grocery
store. He was detected and arrested. :
He got word down to the joint telling
of his misfortune, and begging for
Gods sake that somebody would send
him some opium. | bought some dry
opium pills, and got them in to him
after deal of trouble. The next day
called on him, and a more miserable
wretch never saw. He was suffering
the tortures of hell. He was doubled
up with cramps in his stomach, and
the inevitable pain between the Shout
ders, which feels as though somebody
was driving spikes into your flesh, was
racking him. These tortures were
joined to severe pains in all the joints,
as though the limbs were decaying and
would soon drop off. He had been
without opium SO long that he was
fairly furnishing, and the small guam
tity of the drug had been able to send
was disposed OF in short order.
There isn't taste of it left" he
| yelled to me, as / entered his cell in
the Tombs. Then he rolled his tongue
around as though searching for any
small particles that might be hidden
away in tooth. gave him the pills
/ had brought. He seized them like a
starving man would seize crust OF
bread. He placed two of them in his
mouth and rolled them around until
they had dissolved, and then
washed them down with mouth
full of water. In q few minutes
he was lying on his cot as placid
and happy as a healthy baby. / kept
him supplied with opium until he was
tried and sentenced. / managed to
slip few of them into his hand as he
was on his way to Sing-Sing l heard
no more of him and forgot all about
him until one day, on Broadway, sew
eral years later, stalwart, rosy
checked fellow slapped me on the
shoulder aud heartily shook me by the
hand. was nearly surprised into a
fit when he explained that he was the
opium fiend OF few years ago. He
said that when he got to Sing Sing the
habit was on him very strong. The
pills / had given him had crumbled to
dust in his pocket and had become so
mixed up with a lot of other stuff that
he could not use them. He was in a
raging torment that night, and cried
for the drug. The keepers found him,
and the prison physician, who was
called, fortunately diagnosed the case
| IN
him, however, for every feature OF the
mans face and every motion of his
body almost proclaimed him an opium
fend. lie was removed to the hospi-
tai, and the physician was kind enough
to get interested in the case. He
braced him up with hypodermic injec-
tions of morphine every time the crav-
ing came on, and by liberal use OF
this drug finally wore away the desire
for the other Of course this treat
ment created the morphine habit, but
this was more readily cured, and my
friend soon lost all desire for drugs of
any kind, and is prosperous, happy
man to-day. If he had not been ar
rested he would certainly have gone
the way Of all the fiends, and have
ended his life himself, or died miser.
able in some hole. He tried to reason
the case with me in hopes that would
surrender the drug and endure the
agonies that such privation would
produce for the pleasures attending
the feeling that | was no longer a
slave to it. l have heard all those
arguments thousand times, and fire.
quently have lain in a joint with an
other smoker. and we have both sworn
off, and the very next day we would
both be in the same place again. am
| getting worse every year. The habit
is growing more expensive, and the
longer am at it the less disposed do
feel for work of any kind. My memory
is failing me now, and l am already
pretty we'll along on the downward
road. I'll go little further down
and then goodbye to every thing"
The Twelve Greatest Poets.