The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1894-06-28
TEMPERANCE NOTES.
RUM AND RUIN.
ALife that Might Have Been Pure, But fs
Drink.

1t is such a beautiful old garden. In
1t the air is sweet with thousand de-
licious perfumes, and everywhere the
eye is greeted by color and beauty of
flower and foliage. There are rows of
orange trees, whose dark, glossy,
green-leaved branches bend almost to
the ground under their weight of
golden fruit, while from the same
branches CLEAN forth starry and white
the exquisite orange blossoms, whose
waxy beauty and delightful fragrance
fill the air.
Then there are snow balls-dear,
old-fashioned flowers, that remind one
of childhood days at grandmas. Sy-
ringas, with their clinging, sweet per-
fume; carnation pinks, giving out their
spicy odors; great glowing red peonies;
petunias of almost every shade; fuch-
sias, dropping gracefully here and
there in great clusters; stately
magnolias, with their glossy
leaves and great waxen white
flowers, heavy with sweetness-and
roses-oh, roses without number, and
of almost every conceivable color and
variety! The graceful Bankshire rose,
with its bridal-lil1e wilderness and puri-
ty; the Jacqueminots, the Gold of Ophir,
the Duchess, the moss and the tea roses,
climbing roses, and in their midst a
great bush of the curiously- beautiful
green rose of California.
Into this Garden of Eden wandered
one day an old man who announced
himself to me as Happy Jack. l had
heard of the character, and knew that
his self-given sobriquet was associated
in everybody's mind with drunkenness
and vagabondism.
L was out among the flowers with
Baby Alice near me in her carriage
when the old man drifted in from the
street and looked about him with
bleared eyes as full of appreciative de-
light as such eyes could be. He was in
his usual condition of intoXication, but
he went to the purpose of his visit with
straightforward promptness.
81 am Happy Jack" he said; I'm an
old miner from way up on the top of
the mountains. where they amt no
flowers at all. I'm awful fond o. flow
ers, and I'm willin' to pay you any
price for bunch of EN-"
Little Alice looked up at him with
her serious blue eyes, and he returned
the look with a long, wistful gaze,
you like flowers, too, baby?" he
asked.
Refusing his proffered money, sent
the old fellow away looking down at
his great bouquet of roses, geraniums
and Gala lilies as happy, apparently, as
child.
Happy Jack came again and again
that summer, always telling of his
great love for flowers and going away
pleased and delighted with his fragrant
burden. Once he came when the after
noon sun shone very warm, and not
wishing to go into the garden told
him to help himself He appeared
astonished at the thought of being al
lowed to pick them for himself and hes
itated good deal about it.
81 don't know nothin' about maxim
bouquet" he said, appealingly glanc-
ing back at me as l stood in the door
Later | saw the gray-bearded old man
go down the walk and out at the gate
with the oldest collection of flowers
DuliCiltNl d" IN w dItlN UOStliltI Ill Ills
hand. Great red peonies (Which seemed
to be his favorite fower), red petunias,
brilliant scarlet and crimson geraniums
and red roses. Not a trace of white or
green in the bouquet-nothing but red.
Red is Happy Jacks color" L thou ght
as he passed on up town, doubtless to
his favorite haunt-the saloon.
Often | have seen, in passing this
saloon, a lovely great cluster of waxy
Gala lilies lying on the ste ps-an in
congruous resting place for such pure
hearted flowerS-Sometimes a bandana
handkerchief full of oranges that some
one had given him, and knew that
Happy Jack was within.
What strange contradiction is the
poor old fellows character! Given over,
body and soul, to the worst vices, living
a vagabond existence, respected by no
human being, an outcast from decent
society because of his misera BILE life and
debased habits-yet still with this keen
love of the beautiful ever strong and
fresh within him. like a thrifty, ever
blooming flower itself. Surely his heart
can not be all bad, since flowers can
hold him in such bondage!
| have wondered if better thoughts
did not come to him when l have seen
him gazing down absorbedly into the
golden heart of some sweet lily or de-
lightedly inhaling the perfume of
rose.
Who knows? Perhaps there came to
him then sweet, indistinct memories of
more innocent days, of youth and child
hood, and perhaps of an upright man
hood. like to fancy that the flowers
do him good in this way, that higher,
better thoughts and CLEANS from
long past, sinless childhood come to
him, even though no aspirations for
better future ever creep into his poor,
bewildered old brain.
| know but little of the life history
of Happy Jack. 1t is said that he came
to California many years ago, when the
gold excitement brought so many here
in quest of riches-leaving a wife and
children behind, PRAYING, perhaps, for
the safety and welfare of husband and
father-that he had had bad luck"
became discouraged got into bad COM
puny, ceased to write to the loved ones
at homeland 2ever went back
Drifting downward with each year,