The Press., 1896-02-13
w. C. T. U.
Continued from last week.
 A Tale of the Crusade.
IN TWO CHAPTERS.

The liquor did not warm her as she ex- pected, and 1t seemed suddenly much colder. Several times her feet slipped on the icy sidewalk and she walked in the road for greater security. She ceased to notice where she was going and staggered from side to side of the road until her feet stumbled. She had fallen into the stream that flowed by her house. She made several attempts to rise but could not Her hold on the bottle was relaxed and it floated down stream. She was fighting for life now. several times her trembling ringers oiutclred t.,'O bank and she tried to pull herself up but they caught nothing more stable than the slippery ice, and each time the exertion only pushed her farther into the stream.
 She had little strength left and was freezing to death. She thrust out a feeble arm and touched bush that overhung the stream. By it she dragged herself to shore, and her stiffened fingers frightened around the slender branches with deadly grip. But they gave way and she was thrust out into the stream again.
 The morning light was breaking Soon her boy would come down the north path and wonder at her absence. Cold as she was her heart swelled with love for her son of whom she had been justly proud and inexcusable.
 She lOnged for an assurance of his for giveness and for last embrace from the arms that once had fondled her neck with something of religion during her proba- ] tiOnary period, but now she prayed with 1 fervOr never known before. Was it in answer to her prayer that the shrill March winds bent the slender will low branches upon the bank until they were just within her grasp? The woman caught at them eagerly, and with one desperate effort pulled herself out of the water.
 l There might be time to reach home ere her boy came. Steadying herself by one of the willow reeds she attempted to rise but could not. She crawled along the frozen ground, crept to the gardens edge and could see the light she had left burn ing in the window. She could hear the fire cracking in the stove, but she was no longer cold strange, delicious languor was creeping over her. She smelled some thing burning it was the rice. Her boys breakfast must not be spoiled, and the poor mother made no more drOwsy efforts to move. She would sleep few minutes and there would still be time to anticipate her boys coming. The March wind sent 8 few scurrying flakes of snow across the air; some fell upon the worn. wrlnkled face that smiled in it's sleep and the smile was frozen there. They were but the white tips of the death angels wing, as by the magic of it's touch 1t ended the wOmans struggle and bore the tempted soul up tc God who alone could judge it aright.
 Half an hour later, John Hall came down the north path. He looked admir- ingly at the faint reflection of the rosy morning light upon the icy stream, and his eyes fell upon the bottle he had em ptied the night before. A tender light lii the mans face, he thought his mother had thrown it out.
 He never knew how he reached the cot tage after his feet had stumbled over tho frozen form that blocked his path, nor how he carried his burden into the room where kettle of rice was burning on tho stove
 ''It was 8 sudden call," said Deacor Condall's wife, solennly.
 "Yes," said Miss Dunton, "but it's my opinion that them who caused her ruir will have mighty sight more student cal one of these days"
 Law, Becky, you do speak your minG so," Mrs. Condall exclaimed reproach fully. "The man didn't mean no harm and the deacon says we are a-getting on charitable on saloon-keepers nowadayi anyway. He'd his license for it and th' law is behind that license"