The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1898-11-25
He DIED AS A HERO.

UP to point there had never been dis
agreement between them. When his en-
ployers had heard of the impending marriage
they had given him an increased salary 10
mark their appreciation for him, the senior
partner kindly said.
With several Of his fellow-clerks he had
celebrated this event with dinner, and for
the first time in his life he drank too much.
1t might have done no great harm, but he
insisted upon taking his companions to visit
his hance and her father after dinner. He
did not notice Marie's look Of fear, or the
gathering anger glowing in her fathers eyes;
he was boisterously happy, and refused to
leave, without meaning 10 be offensive in his
refusal When at last he left the house
policeman stood watching him down the
road, and this angered him. He came back
and struck the man, with the result that
next day he stood in the dock of police
court, and his vulgar offense was advertised
broadcast
His employers listened to his excuses, and
in the end they consented TO overlook his
fault. Then came a brief note from Marie,
telling him she could not marry a drunkard
The very briefness of the note hurt him.
Not word to chide him for his fault; not
word to encourage him to better things in
the future even though he must live with
out her. just those half dozen lines saying
the engagement would have to be broken,
as she could not marry a drunkard. lie
would not believe that she was responsible
for such note.
As soon as he could get away from the of
flee he hurried round to see her, but her
father met him at the door and refused him
admittance. Nainly he pleaded that it was
the one slip in a life thai had hitherto been
well spent, and vainiy he begged to be al
lowed to appeal to Marie herself
81 would rather see my daughter dead
than know that she was married to drunk
| ard, was the answer
"A man who once takes too much in a
time OF excitement is not drunkard, sir
1t shall never happen again"
81 have heard that promise given before
now from such as you, was the cold reply.
1ou say 1t was the first time. How do
Know that you speak the tru,h!'
Then John Manners became furious; he
was an honorable man, and TO have his word
doubted was more than he could bear His
voice was raised in anger until he saw Ma
RE = white face pressed against the window
pane but a few yards away. lie turned to-
ward her but she vanished. 1t was two
years before he saw her again. Her father
was a wealthy man, and 20 took her abroad,
where they remained until she met one who
he thought was worthy to be her husband.
In those two years John Manners had
ruined his life. Drink was sought to deaden
his disappointment, and soon drunkenness
became habit with him. lie did not know,
as did Mr.. Power, that his mother had died
early in years, killed by drink, and had fore
doomed him to a like destruction, but after
ali al al hoI g.,
him he could not resist.
He lost his situation, and after awhile 9th.
ers, which his friends obtained for him.
They weared of him at last, and he drfted in
and out OF the newspaper offices about Fleet
street, selling old bits Of news, making pre-
carious living and spending most of his
small earnings in the effort to forget that
lie is misery when regrets ilog the memory.
In and out of the drinking house ebb and
flow these wrecks of humanity, gradually
drowning the islets of virtue still showing
in their natures, imbeciles deserving pity
and crying for protection from themselves
"A cry to which their fellows are deaf John
Manners in ten years had no friends, and
had those of other days met him by chance
they would scarcely have known HMM
deed, he hardly remembered himself as he
used TO be when he could go to his nightly
rest with the hope OF waking TO enjoy the
morrow
Yet the remembrance of what he might
have been never ceased to haunt him; it was
spur that drove him 10 drink that forced
him further and further from the limits OF
society. Dimly he fanccd that he loved
Marie still; he told himself that his degrade
ton was caused by her misttust of him. and
he cherished the shadow and made it his
stumbling block,
! But life became more and more unbearable,
and the thought OF eternal rest pressed him
more hardly day by day. Just to fall asleep
and sleep forever. lie began to think of
means to that end. Sometimes he would
wander along the Thames embanbment and
watch the dark waters roll smoothly by, and
! plan an early death therein, but in the end
| life always shook him to renew the struggle,
and sent him away from temptution-until
| the morrow
And so it was, day after day, always the
same story, always the same ending at
night, drunkard's rest. Sometimes a few
pennies saved from drink would procure
him bed in a foul lodging house for night,
but more often he slept in the street gut
tiers or on the steps OF some public building.
Even the police had ceased to notice him,
and he was not disturbed by them.
One day, when the world was bright with
the sun OF an early spring, he craved for
rest more strongly than ever lie had not
known the comfort OF bed the night before,
and he had not eaten for "a hours-he had
not even enough money TO buy little of the
drink that drowsed him 10 forgetfulness.
lie stood on the wet stone stairs leading to
the river, among some children who were
playing there. He wondered if he would in.
stinctivey struggle for life, for once he had
been fair swimmer. As he stood there a
passing steamer sent heavy wash splashing
on the stairs, and as the water returned it
carried away a small boy with it, sitting his
shrieks as it rolled him over in its grasp.
The wreck OF a man plunged in after the
lad and clutched at his rugs they came away
in his hand, and the two struggling human
atoms were borne apart. But the man
reached the boy again, and by that time he
was 80 feet from the stairs The shrieks OF
tie other children had brought a crowd, and
a boat put off, while a man who was pulling
a numbering barge made frantic efforts to
| reach them