The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1890-11-27
a BENiGhTED FATHER.

a BENlGATED FATHER.
A Young Man Taught to Drink At the
Family Dinner Table.
"a ''Young Fred Dale was brought to his
room in a pretty plight last night"
what do you mean?'
"Well. If should put it in plain En-
glish. not stopping for soft phrases, I
should say no was crazy drunk"
"What else can be expected. consid-
ering his companionship and his homo
bringing-up? he will 60 to the dogs
before he is twenty one, and no help for
it. The sooner the better, I suppose, i:
he must CO." 4
This scrap of conversation was borne
in to me through half-opened door in
the large clearinghouse in which ! was
summering among the White mountains.
1t did not seem theme for TESTING; for
it always cuts me to the heart to hear
such news of any young man, especially
young man SO bright and kind and
thoughtful Of others as Fred Dale-and
he was only sixteen. / noticed that he
was not at the breakfast table, and
when dinner-time came he was still ab-
sent In day or two, he took his old
place. little quieter, and with trifle
of reserve supplanting his former frank
ness, which was always so winning. 1
resolved to bide my time for favorable
opportunity to talk with the boy and
learn the truth in the matter, and what
lay behind it all. 1t came one evening
as l was lying in my hammock.
watching tho sunset among the
hills. Fred came along with
fishing tackle. and threw himself into
a chair beside me. With swift little
prayer to Heaven for wisdom and guild
ance, l drew, with such gentleness and
tact as were given me, the whole miser-
able story from the boys lips. He with
two or three others was invited to spend
an evening with brother and sister in
an aristocratic home in The city. Re-
freshments denominated port wine
were offered and accepted. The liquor
was, in reality, something much
stronger, but Fred had taken two or
three swallows before the difference
dawned upon him. Beyond that he did
not seem to have any clear recollection.
ut would not have hurt me any if it
had really been port wine. l have
drunk it ever since was = child" said
the boy, alphabetically.
do you mean to say it forms a part
of your family life?" inquired.
''Yes; my father has always drunk it,
and nothing could offend him more
than to have one of his children take
such cranky notion as to refuse it at
table. never drink more than one
glass, but so long as live at home
can not give up the practice. My father
is stern man, and thinks he knows
what is best for the interests of himself
and family"
TIC counsel child against the known
wishes of parent is delicate business;
but what else could do in the hope of
saving the boy? The only satisfaction
I gained by my earnest pleading was
this:
The experience of the other night
has taught me severe lesson. I will
never drink again away from home, and
II ever have home of my own, there
shall be no wine in it for myself or my
guests; but SO long as I live with nv
father l must do as he wants me to do
about such things. You don't know nv
father, or you would not urge me, dear
Miss NJ" and tears stood in the
boys clear eyes.
Tears brimmed my OVID eyes, as Fred
picked up his fishing tackle and passed
on irto the house. said to myself:
''Curst be the Social wants that sin
against the strength of youth;" for was
he not much more to be pitied than
blamed for the plight in which home
custom had led him.?
What can be done to enliphten
fathers who. like this one, forge links
in the chain which will most likely
drag their children down to perdition!
Such children are weaker in every way
than their fathers, from the faint of
wine-steeped heredity, and when the
influence of accursed social customs is
added, the doom of the child is almost
certain. Is there any question as to
where lies the heaviest responsibility?
Fred acknowledged that he had known
dreadful results in the families of
others, but he was equally sure that his
own family was safe, because it had
been thus far. A youth who feels so
strong a sense of security on the brink
of precipice is in far moro danger
than one who sees his peril and en-
deavors to walk heedfully.
1t is some time since this incident &C.
CURED, and have never been ablo to
follow the history of my summer friend;
but my heart is sad wien l think of
him and the brilliant and good man he
might have made had his homo sur
roundings been better, and which, alas!
l fear he was never able to rise above,
Helen L. Manning, in Good Health.
TO8ACCO AND DRINK.
M,ny Men Spend Ono Dollar in Everv