The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1895-08-24
A Temperance Story.
Told by the Boy Preacher. J


Last week." he SAID, II was out in
Colorado, travelling through the valley
of the Animas River, and along the
oyerhangIng cliffs, among those strange
stone thlngs-l was about to say stone
creatures, for they look like statutes of
giants, which the Almighty has hewn
out IN the rough and forgotten to finish.
But 1t was not all rOughness out there
plains and preCipices, ravines, and can
yons are tinted like the rainbow with
ruddy gllIas and pinks with fire weed
and wall flowers, and starred with hare
bells and anemones and clematis.
There are children there too, thank
God, as there are everywhere, and as |
clImed mountain steep with my trusty
staff, | saw two little tots sitting IN the
bed of the railroad, which winds in
sharp curves about the mountain side.
They were not very clean, they were
scantly dressed, and they had nothing
to play with except the bits ofrOck they
were picking out of the road bed. But
they were laughing and Growing, be-
cause God made children to be happy,
and their eyes and cheeks and hair
were as bright and radiant az your little
ones; because God has made all child
rem to be happy.
Il stopped and watched them, and
smiled to myself at their fun and frolic.
Suddenly | heard low rumble, the
earth trembled along that rockey ledge,
a hoarSe roar smote my ear and | knew
that just beyond that curve the train
was laundering down the mountain.
Run, rum | cried to the children,
the train is coming but they smiled
up at me, and went on picking bits of
stones. They were babies, they knew
no danger.
ut was an ugly place to meet the
locomotive; steep wall or mountain
rose up on the one side, sheer cliff fell
rway on the other, with only room for
the railroad to sweep around. | could
easily save myself by scrambling lit
tie way up by clinging to the trunk of a
fir tree; but | must be in haste, already
/ could see the ugly nozzle of the en-
CINE, there was no time to lose As for
the children, you do not blame me for
leaving them? They were not my
children. | had not let them there.
they would not listen to me- | had my
work to do in the world. | must save
my own life; let people look alter their
own children; you do not blame me for
leaving them?"
The speaker ask the question as a
man might ask it of his neighbor,
anxiously, yehemently, and waited Tor
stiffness was unbroken, and then
harsh voice cried, "You dared not leave
the prctticst there, it would be muir
der"
"Ah,' cried the speaker, at would be
murder, would it, to let those little ten
der bodies be crushed and mangled I'M
der the feet of the iron horse? But
how about soul murder, friend speaker,
how about the souls of these bows and
young men in this town and country?
Are they not in danger? | have heard
some one say that fiery, snorting loco
motive looked like tiend on his jour
ncy, but if you have any eyes in your
minds, if your hearts are not moles
burrowing in the dust, you know that
intemperance is tiend, a foul ticnd, a
horrible, crule, cunning, hideous field,
bent on destroying souls and bodies.
And where is this destroyer? Friends"
the boy preachers voice was sunk to 4
whisper, yet not a syllable was lost, as
he pointed back over his shoulder to
guady sign of Miller's saloon, "Friends
It's nozzle is Just around the corner"
Then he broke out again. "Nou are
right, man, | dared not leave those
prettiest to the crushing wheel. 1t
would have been murder, and God
would have required their blood at my
hands. Nor can you dare to leave these
innocent and ignorant young lives at
the mercy of the drink tiend for Just
as surely as you do you will answer for
it with the life of your own souls
There is no time to reason about it, and
say people must meet their own temp
tations; you have seen young lives go
down year after year before their mon
ster, snatch them away, men, snatch
them away! You dare not leave them
alone, it will be murder. "-Selected
There is plenty of evidence already