The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1892-02-26
TEMPERANCE NOTES.
A SALOON INCIDENT.
The Death-Strugglc of . Drink-Degrad-
ed Old Man.

The Death-Strugglc of Drink-Degrad-
ed Old Man.
There was the sound of the chink.
chink of glasses, ribald laughter and
| cursing, while the atmosphere was
thick with the fumes of tobacco and
| alcohol. The hour was near midnight
and the eyes of the men sitting around
the little tables drinking and playing
cards were heavy and bloodshot The
round, red face of the bartender was
| flushed with,beer and exertion; for his
| patrons were drinking heavily and
often. Presently there was a Iull in the
business and the barkeeper improved
| the opportunity by leaning forward and
resting both elbows upon the counter
in front of him.
For some time stability dressed old
man, standing near the door and lean
| ing against the soiled wall of the
ROOM had been watching the dealing
out of the liquor with, feverish, blood
shot eyes. His face was pale and thin
almost to emaciation and his gray hair
and beard were long and unkempt.
The threadbare, black coat, which
chung loosely about his attenuated
frame, was buttoned up tightly around
his throat and down his breast As he
stood there his long, thin hands would
clasp and unclasp themselves nervous
ly, while every now and then n tremor
would pass over his frame. When the
barkeepcr leaned his fat arms upon
the counter the old man gave quick,
nervous glance around the room and
walking up to him asked, in a husky
voice, for glass of whisky.
The bartender looked at him con-
temptuously for a moment and then
inquired Have you got the chink?"
Certainly, certainly; of course
have. I'm no deadbeat," replied the
old man.
The saloonkeeper handed him glass
of the fiery beverage and he drank it
down at a swallow.
AS he put the empty glass down upon
the counter he turned to the man be-
hind the bar and said: "Say, old fellow,
have poured a large fortune. beau
tiful home and loved wife and child
into your till and you have poured
ruination down my throat; so / guess
you can stand this one drink, for have
not got cent left in the world" and
he turned to go.
"Net so fast" cried the enraged sa-
loonkeeper, as he sprang over the bar
and seized him by the collar "You
drunken old brute, pay for that glass
of whisky or I'll kick your old carcass
into the gutter"
The old mans voice trem bled as he
replied: Don't, don't old friend. For
you have lost fortune, home, wife and
baby; surely you will not begrudge me
single glass of whisky? had to
have it or would have died"
''Out upon You, you sniveling old hy-
pocrlte," yelled the saloonkeeper, with
an oath, emphasizing his command
with brutal kick and violent jerk
on the coat collar.
The collar gave way, and the greedy
eyes saw thin gold chain to which
was fastened a small gold locket, hang.
ing around the bare. wrinkled neck.
liza, ha! you old miser," laughed the
brute, as he tore the chain violently
from off the old mans neck. "Ill
keep this little trinket till you pay for
| bhS WhiShys
For moment the old man stood as
IL dazed. and then, clutching wildly
with both hands at his throat in vain
search for the locket, cried out: "For
Gods sake give me back my loclxct!
Give me back my locket! Don't open
it, he yelled, as the saloonkeeper be-
gan to examine the locket. "Give it
to me! For the love of Heaven give it
to met"
"You blubbering old idiot" laughed
the saloonkeeper, who'd have thought
/ you'd have a sweetheart at your time Of
life? Come, boys, let us see what kind
of a looking gal she is" &C.,.
Then the lockers on saw strange
sight The grayheaded old man flung
himself on his knees before the brutal
saloonkceper, and while the tears ran
down his hollow cheeks begged and
implored him TO give him back the
locket
But the saloonkeeper only laughed
and said: Must be a pretty girl to
make all that fuss over ! wouldn't
miss seeing her picture now to save
my soul from purgatory." AS he said
this he opened the locket. A long curl
of beautiful golden hair fell out and,
catching on his fingers, twincd itself
around them like thing of life.
saints and angels!" he yelled, as he
hurled the locket, hair and all, upon
the floor and began to stamp upon
| them.
Like tigress fighting for her young,
the old man sprang to the rescue of the
| golden curl A short bat terrible
struggle ensued. and then there was a
| CLEAN Of glittering steel, thud, and
| the gray head fell backward to the
floor, while the red blood spurted up
| in the face of the murderer.
Stro3g hands seized the saloonkeep-
err; but the old man was beyond help.
'Oh. my darling, my darling." he
murmured as his life blood ebbed
away, "who would have thought. when
you put your soft, white arms around
my neck to clasp that locket, kissing
me as you did so. and saying in your
sweet baby voice: Papa, love 90,
love 90 so. Won't 90 tiss me cause /
gives 90 such sweet birthdays pres.
ent?'-who would have thought that
should die a drunkard's death, stabbed