Mississippi leader. (Jackson, Miss.) 1892-1895, 1893-08-22
ONE OF THOUSANDS.
Pathetic Story of a Young
Wife's Blighted Life.
Bright as a Day in June mt
the Beginning, but Soon
Eclipscd in DisappOint-
ment and Degradation
Unutterable.
And 1t Was All Directly Trace
able to the Licensed
DramshOp.
One Reason Why We Are "a
Party PrOhibitiOnist.

One morning last April the
New Orleans Delta published the
following pathetic story of a con-
tiding young wife's blighted and
wretched welded life as it was
revealed before one of the Re-
corder's Courts of that city. 1t
is enough to move with sympa-
thy and pity a heart Of stone
The wedding bells in the parish
town were ringing merrily, and
the soft moon beams falling gent
ly, gave the night a charmed and
happy look. 1t was happy oc-
casion, too, in that peaceful lit
tie town, one of the houses of
which was bright with the
| happy smiles of youthful
faces and joyous laughter.
There was marriage to be
solcmnized, and the hospitablc
home of one of Union parish ;
most honored citizens was all
falight, for that night his fair and
beautiful daughter was to have
her life joined with that of one of
the young men of the town, to
share with him the veal and
woe of all the future had in store
for them. The happy couple
stood before the minister, and
gathered round were many
friends who came to sec their
boon companions cast their bark
upon the matrimonial seas, to
clasp their hands, TO wish, them
well and fondly hope heavens $
blessing on their lives.
The groom, with the manly
stamp of youth on his brow, look
ed proudly down into the blush
ing face of her whom he was soon
to call his wife, and with fervent
clasp he took her hand in his.
He pressed that soft and tender
hand that never knew harshcr
touch perhaps than budding flow
crs, and standing there the twain
sworc each to love the other,
cherish and obey so long as life
lasted.
"Call the next case,' said
Judge Whitaker at the First Re
corder's Court yesterday morn
ing.
The dock door opened, and out
walked man on whose face dis
sipation bad left its mark.
"Your name is William Man
ming said the Judge, "and you
are charged with beating your
wife, being drunk and disorderly
and disturbing the peace.
1t was the William who eight
years ago, stood before the sacred
hymeneal altar and swore to love
and protect the blushing young
woman whose hand he claspcd so
lovingly.
Not guilty. he said.
He scarce had spoken the words
when the door opened and in
there walked a sad looking little
lady, leading two little girls. A
worn and faded dress she wore,
ragged here and tattered there,
and her face was hidden with a
large bonnet that looked the
worse for wear. Her step was
slow and tottering, and beneath
the dark bonnet a tired and hun
CRY face was seen, with sorrow
written there and grief. Dark
lines of anguish marked her brow,
and as she looked and saw her
husband standing before the bar
a wave of despair passed over
her face, as if her soul, weary
with life, sought rest in death S
cold embrace.
She it was who eight years ago
left her happy home to share a
life with him whom she loved.
Her love was purer than was his.
She loved in truth, but he did
not.
"Oh, spare him!'' she said to
the Judge. sFor he did not
beat me-; neither did he beat these
| little girls. Save my husband,