The Worthington advance., 1893-01-05
HOPES OF AN OPIUM SLAVE.

When get up in the morning, says
a writer to the Sun, my face is bloated,
swollen, and my acquaintances, some
OF them. say that it is the effect of
liquor, but the more observant. those
better versed in the ways of the
world, say that it is morphine, or the
fluid extract from the poppy, and they
are right Do they blame me? Yes; they
do. I am called a fool. I am told that
l am throwing my life away. All that
my well-meaning advisers tell me is
true. yet when retire from my work.
siege varying from fourteen to
eighteen hours out of the twenty-four.
get to my dingy little room and find
relief only in my little bottle of opium
or in morphine tablet. 1t is very odd,
it is unreasonable, some will say, that
man with brains enough and per-
haps triae above the average ca
pacity would thus resort to de-
ibecately breaking him self down.
But this is an old story. Do
I take my medicine with anxiety
and pleasure mingled? No, it is with
feeling of repulsion, and as tip my
head back, draining the very last dregs
from the glass, feeling of detection
and remorse fills me. l see at such
times the mistakes have made during
my life, and, though there has been
nothing discriminating. have not been
an angel The poison has been taken,
and the sensation between that time
and when it takes effect is not the
most agreca BILE. The word remorse is
not strong enough. l am too ambi-
tious, perhaps, and lack the one quality
or feature which pushes a man to the
front. 1 do not get along fast enough
and my salary is too miserably and in
sultingly small. As I think these
things over With all the bitterness
there is in them the opiate takes effect
and distracts my attention from what
l please to term my misfortune. A
kind of mum bness creeps over me and
seems to take possession of my whole
system. The sensation is not pleasant
nor is it disagreeable, for know
what is coming.
Oblivion creeps over me, and the hell
of this world. if it can be termed so
lightly, is gone, and l enter a life, an
existence, that I have seen in my
earlier worldly experience, and am in
my own hemisphere. In my fancy I
live the life l would live in reality.
No, there is no extravaganza, no dissi-
patton in my imaginary life; and it is
as comfortable and respectable as the
most exacting and proper could wish.
In my dream life l have only my Joy.
Whenever l enter that existence l am,
to use the only expressions: "Out of
sight" l have been seated by fair
women at tables laden with the lux
uries of life. l have talked with bril-
liant men at the banquet table, and
though l never take a leading part in
any such demonstrations enjoy it and
follow it in the even tenor of my way.
At other times will be at my home, a
little place I have pictured out in a
quiet part of the city, enjoying the
comforts that are to be found only in
tha3 modest little cottage. My home,
my mythical home, is not gorgeous
affair, but it is so happy. It is fur
nished in that quiet, rich taste that
only true. loving and wise wife
can show. Quite often, while we sit
there, the little one that has been
born. to us will utter cry
in her sleep, and the ever-thought-
full mother will go and bend over
the cradle. Soothing words, with
looks from her eyes beaming with ma
ternal love, quiet the little thing. The
care and the responsibility that are
placed on us by that little treasure
o10Sor
is infinite: Again 1 will drift into
channels of my daily occupation, and
may struggle on, as 1 do in daily life,
but the results are reversed and I meet
with reward and am happy. 1t may be
that at such a time I am single, as l
really am, and will find myself in the
society of my ideal of womanhood, who
in my real life I have never met. All
OF these most happy events and situa-
tions does the opiate bring me, Impress
ing themselves most vividly upon the
mind sr
When consciousness returns awake
with heavy, dull sensation in my brain
and am unable to determ ne whether
what has impressed itself is true or
not. 1 stretch and rub my swollen
eyes and the truth of the situation is
upon me. The blood courses hot
through my body, feeling as though hot
irons were applied to the pulse.
Thoughts cannot be collected, the
memory is impaired and the daily grind
is before me. Mental and physical ex-
haustion follows and then the worst
pay day. ''ls there any relief to be Sc
cured?". 1 debate the. question with
myself: "Yes, there is Then No"
then YES" and my hand reaches again
for the fruit Of the poppy.-Colorado
Sun.
INTEMPERANCE AND INSANITY.
Disastrous Consequences OF Using Aloo-
hoiic Stimulants. +
Dr. Augustine Planus, of Paris, in an
article. summarizing the results of a
careful investigation. made by himself,
says 'that*a very large proportion
many more than a. ma jority of the total
of the numerous cases of insanity
which have, been registered in that city
in the past few years, are attributable
entirely to the excessive use of intoxi-