The Progress. (Shreveport, La.) 1892-1900, 1894-03-10
There is fountain filed with blood
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins,
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains

Lose all tnelr guilty stains
At 2 o'clock tomorrow afternoon 90
among the places of business or toll,
1t will be no difficult thing for you to
find men who, by their looks, show
you that they are ovcrworked They
are prematurely old. They are hasten
ing rapidly toward their deccase. They
have gone through crises in business
that shattered their nervous SYSTEM
and pulled on the brain. They have a
shortness of BREATH and pain in the
back Of the head, and at night an in
somnia that alarms them. Why are
they drudging at business early and
late? For fun? NJ; it would be
difficult to extract any amusement
out of that exhaustion. Because
they are avaricious? In many
cases no. Because their own per-
sonal expenses are lavish? No; few
hundred dollars would meet all their
wants. The simple fact is, the man is
enduring all that fatigue and exaSper-
alton, and wear and tear, to keep his
home prosperous, There is an invisi-
BILE line reaching from that store, from
that bank, from that shop, from that
scatfolding, to a quiet scene few
blocks, few miles away, and there is
the secret of that business endurance.
He is simply the champion of a home
stead, for which he wins bread and
wardrobe, and education, and pros
perity, and in such battle ten thou
sand men fall. Of ten business men
whom | bury, nine die of overwork for
others. Some sudden disease finds
them with no power Of resistance, and
they are gone Life for life. Blood
for bloo6 Substitution!
At O'clock tomorrow morning, the
| hour when slumber is most uninter-
rupted and most profound, walk amid
the dwelling houses of the city. Here
and there you will find dim light,
because 1t Is the household custom to
keep a subdued light burning; but
most of the houses from base to top
are as dark as though uninhabited. A
merciful God has sent forth the arch
angel of sleep, and he puts his wings
over the city. But yonder is clear
light burning and outside on the win.
dow easement Il glass or pitcher con-
tanning food for sick child. the food
is set in the fresh air This is the sixth
night that mother has sat up with
that sufferer She has to the last point
obeyed the physicians prescription,
not giving drop too much or too lit.
tie, or moment too soon or too late.
She is very anxious, for she has
buried three children with the same
disease, and she prays and weeps,
each prayer and sob ending with kiss
of the pale cheek. BY dint of kindness
she gets the little one through the
ordeal. After it is all over, the moth
er is taken down. Brain or nervous
fever sets in, and one day she leaves
the convalescent child with mothers
blessing, and goes up to join the three
ALI OiS hIiiS Nolll VI iICdNtll Liz lOT lllC.
Substitution. The fact is that there
are an uncounted number of mothers
who, after they have navigated a large
family of children through all the dis
eases of infancy, and got them fairly
started up the Towering slope of boy
hood and girlhood, have only strength
enough left to die. They fade away.
Some call it consumption; some call it
nervous prostration, some call it inter
mittent or malarial disposition; but 1
call it martyrdom of the domestic cir
Gle. Life for life. Blood for blood.
Substitution!
Or perhaps the mother fingers long
enough to see son get on the wrong
road, and his former kindness becomes
rough reply when she expresses
anxiety about him. But she goes
right on looking carefully after his ap-
parel, rememberin,,; his every birth
day with some memento and when he
is brought home worn out with dissi-
patton, nurses him till he gets we'll
and starts him again, and hopes, and
expects, and prays, and counsels,
and suffers until her strength gives
out and she fails. She is going, and
attendants, bending over her pillow,
ask her if she has any message to
leave, and she makes great effort to
say something, but out of three or
four minutes of indistinct utterance
they can catch but three words, ''My
poor boy!" The simple fact is she
died for him Life for life. Substitu.
tionl
About thirty-three years ago there
went forth from our homes hundreds
Of thousands of men to do battle for
their country. All the poetry of war
soon vanished and left them nothing
but the terrible prose. They waded
knee-deep IN mud They slept IN snow
banks. They marched till their cut
feet tracked the earth. They were
swindled out of their honest rations,
and lived on meat not fit for dog
They had jaws all fractured, and eyes
extinguished, and limbs shot away.
Thousands of them cried for water as
they lay dying on the field the night
after the battle, and got it not. They I
were homesiclk, and received no mes ,
sage from their loved ones They died
in barns, in bushes, in bitches. the /