Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1889-08-22

Ouss8 man, u0 oh<<A AxAe5s
abruptly. as I approached to request
him to leave. do you know what hell
is?''
I stood aghast at the question. much
drink hath brought thee to the verge
of delirium tremens.n was my mental
comment. as ] drew away from the
fumes of his whisky-laden breath.
81 can tell you what it is,' he con-
tinued. without waiting for my an
swer, lit is to stand in the slime of
the gutter. drunkard, a vagabond.
homeless outcast, and see what you
might have been, honorable. honored.
crowned with the love of wife and
children, and the respect of your fell
lowmen. It's to long as you would
for life itself for the very thing you
once had in your grasp and threw
away; to feel that you would give your
hearts blood to be now the man you
once might have been. but wouldn't
That's hell. young man. and l am in
it,
Blear-eyed, shabby. unwholesome.
the strength of his emotion lent to the
human wreck a momentary dignity.
1t was. as though dimly glimmering
through the deflement and debase-
ment, / could catch the shadow. faint,
elusive, but still the shadow of that
nobler manhood he might have at
tanned to, but of which had so failed.
A profound sadness and sympathy
moved me at the sight.
ut is never too late for reforma-
tion," I said, uttering the common
truism.
cit is too late by thirty years." was
his passionate answer. mo reform
ing or repenting now can give me back
the opportunity I have wasted. or
make me the man might have been.
/ am q dead man truly, as dead in
trespasses and sin. as that man."
pointing to young Randall's grave. ''is
in his tomb. And that was Abbie
Pennel, the girl he was to have mar
riedr' with an abrupt change of the
subject What sort of woman is
she?"
For answer, told him of her constant
benefactions, her tenderness, her kind
ness, her sympathy, toward even the
least and lowest of Gods creatures.
"a pure, good woman, you say.
And yet he paused and ground his
heel into the gravel walk, edo you
know men have felt the love of just
such a woman a burden and bondage.
aud have worn.it off and cast it from
them as they would fetter? WE'LL"
and he gave harsh, unmirthful laugh,
Il shouldn't complain. I've had my
freedom, freedom to SOW the wind and
reap the whirlwind: I've flung soul and
body to the devil, with nobody to him
der and restrain. Good God!' and the
cry was wall of despair, ''that man
will sink himself beyond the hope of re-
demption, and fancy he is happy in do
ing it; that he will scar conscience till
be fancies that no scenes or associa-
tons will have power to sting"
There is mercy"-I began, as he
paused with sobbing breath,
But he interrupted me fercely.
''What can mercy do for me? Not
even God Himself can restore my W asst
ed talents, my mis-spent life," and,
eyes with his threadbare sleeve.
Presently, turning to me. he asked,
with beggarly whine: ''Could you
lend me five dollarsp I'm dead broke
just now, and it's hard lines for man
who has known different times
Without a word 1 handed him the
money. Poor fellowl he had spoken
the truth; his manhood was gone be-
yond recall. The spark that had flick
cred for moment had sunken out of
sight again; even remorse was power
less to arouse his vanished self-re-
spect.
A few days later an unknown man III
an advanced stage of intoxication was
picked up on the street, who, to all eff
forts to learn his name would only an
swer that they could go and read it on
his grave-stone, for he was dead.
dead and buried thirty years." he
would mutter. One thing. however,
soon became evident to those about
him. Dissipation had done its work,
and the end of the wasted life was
close at hand.
That evening, as, at q later hour
than usual, was leaving the still. old
cemetery. I met Miss Abbie.
''Will you go with me?" she said.
II have been sent for to see man at
the police station. Poor Tim Riley, l
am afraid. 1 bailed him out the last
time he was arrested for being drunk.
He promised me, for the sake of his
wife and children that he would do
better, and I think he tries, but it is
so hard"
In few moments, for it was but a
short distance, we reached the SOM
Der brick building, and were taken
into cell, where, on a pallet under a
haring gas-jet, with the oaths and
cries of drunken men and women
sounding from the cells around. and
the gray shadow of death resting on
his haggard and unshaven face, lay
the stranger of the cemetery.
I'VE sent for you, Miss Pennel." said
the sergeant, who sat beside him,
because he has mentioned your name
several times in his raving, and we
thought you might be able to tell us
what we can not find out from him,
who he is, and where his friends may
be found"
Mics Ib;o ohoolr hor head SADLY