Herald and tribune. [volume] (Jonesborough, Tenn.) 1869-current, 1897-02-10
A MODERN
Con tinued from last week.

lCOu leu lTOm last week.
can not tell you of the years of
reckless dissipation that followed.
Long, dark years, when l felt that
Frank were better dead than wasting
his life and destroying all the nobility
Of his young manhood by the poison of
strong drink; years when my hair
turned gray and my heart turned as
lead. He did not want to be a drunkard,
he often. tried to reform, but the drink
disease was firmly fixed upon him, and
temptations were on every side. Many
a night have l wept and prayed at
home, while my husband-a careworn,
sorrowful man, instead of the CHEEKY,
hopeful n of other ~years-went from
one saloon to another in search of our
wondering boy.
zone stormy night-can l ever for
get how the wind and rain dashed
against the windows as / listened and
waited? The father, after a long search,
found Frank just as he was leaving q
low resort, and implored him to come
home. And then our boy did what
only the demon of rum prompted-he
struck his father such a blow, that ex.
hausted from his buffeting with the
storm, feeble and worn from sorrow
and shame, he fell upon the Pc vement,
striking his head upon the stone step
at the door.
Some of Franks companions had
witnessed the scene, and at midnight
they brought me my loved one; one in
a drunken stupor, the other still I'M
conscious from the cruel blow given by
the son whom he loved better than life.
l can not dwell upon that time when
every ray of hope seemed extinguished;
when prayed that l, too. might die.
My husband never recovered from that
blow. For a few hours he suffered, and
rallied, at the close, to say, Tell my
boy that | forgive-it was not he that
struck the blow
"And when Frank came to himself,
to see his father lying dead-do you
know what remorse means? 1t drove
him wild, it wrung his heart, for he
loved his father, he loved me. But oh,
what is love, what is home, what is
sacred and holy to that fend of hell
alcohol?
For months after that he did not
touch drink, although there was q
daily struggle with appetite. His re-
morse and sorrow were SO deep that he
was brought ever to the feet of Christ,
where pardon and peace came to his
soul. Secure in this new strength, he
felt that he might yet atone for the
evil he had wrought by a life of repen.
tance;a and while my heart ached sorely,
still, again | hoped. Together we at
tended the church, and together for the
first time, we knelt down at the altar
to partake of the blessed sacrament.
But even there the tempter came, for
instead of the pure fruit of the vine,
the cup OF cursing-alcoholic wine
was used as a symbol Of the blood shed
for sinners, and the scent and taste of
that liquid aroused once more the slum-
bering appetite.
"All day he struggled with the de.
mon that cried for rum, and when the
next morning came, he rushed from
the house, hoping in the air and sun
shine to escape from the continual
craving that possessed him. But alas,
on every street, turn where he would,
the open doors of the saloons invited
him to destruction, the scent of liquor
as he passed enticing him to enter.
"At length, rendered desperate, he de.
termined to leave the town with its
temptations, and as a steamboat was
just departing for its trip on the river,
he jumped aboard. Hardly had he
done so and the boat left the shore,
than he realized he was entrapped, for
within he heard the clink of glasses at
the bar. Then he gave up and said to
those about him, There is no chance
for me; tell mother l did my best.
That trip was for him a long ~debauch,
and when the boat returned, just as
the landing was made and he saw me
waiting on the shore, he pointed a pts.
tol at his head and fired a shot that sent
his soul into eternity.
May God have mercy on his soul.
Yes, and may God have mercy on the
physician whose prescription arous.