The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1902-04-24
that. How difficult 1t was to dressl

Instinctively he thought that only one
drink would steady his shaking hands
and cool his parching throat. Only one
drink! Merciful heavensl His awful
vow of the night before struck him
like a blow. Never to drink, till he
took it from his mothers hand. And
that hand lay cold in death. Great
drops of sweat stood out on his fore
head.
BY a supreme effort of will he
dressed and left the room, stealing
nOiselessly past the parlor in which
his mother lay.
The day passed like a nightmare.
Food he could not swallow, not even
the fragrant coffee pressed upon him
by kind neighbors. As one in a dream
he used the hot bath and the clean
linen that had been prepared, and put
on his black clothes, now too small
for him. He wondered in and out,
covering his burning eyes with his
quivering hands. Sometimes he sat
down suddenly, when the sick craving
made him faint. The women who took
charge of the house said to each
other: Poor boy! How well he loved
her, after all! He is sorry, and now he
knows he can never tell her 500
That night in the Saints Rest"
saloon, when the noise was at it's loud
est, the watchful bartender saw the
back door cautiously open, and
mans hand thrust through, tapping
softly on the panel. Unnoticed, he
hurried to the door. There stood VIII
Rochester, with a white, set face, and
madness in his eyes.
For Gods sake, Sam, fetch me out
a drink, something hot. Don't let the
fellows see mel"
That you, Bill? Awful tough on
you, old fellow, amt it, an you won't
come in tonight? What l call most
Internal luck! Wait here and I'll bring
something.
With barely a word of thanks Will
clutched the deep and heavy glass, and
hurried away into the darkness. He
must drink it. The enticing odor
crept up his nostrils and penetrated
to the roof of his mouth. His tongue
moved, his lips twitched; every drop
of his blood seemed to have open
mouths, to drink it in. But, lurid on
the darkness before him, burned those
words, God being my witness-never
to drink-unless take it from my own
mothers hand"
Onward through the darkness he
H..
avenging furies. And ever before his
eyes, floated fragments of his awful
vow.
Reaching his mothers house, he en-
tered with caution, crept steadily to
the room where rested the lifelss body,
and still listening and painting like
wounded animal. In the adjoining
apartment he heard the low murmur
of voices. Suppose they should enter!
He crouched down beside the head
of the bier, carefully guarding las he
had in This fight the fateful cup. The
cold night air blew in from screened
window. He shuddered violently, and
carefully set the cup upon the floor.
Then, slowly and fearfully rising,
CHASTITY as the ghost of Love, he
drew the sheet down, lifted up
the cold right hand, stopped for
the cup, placed it in his moth
er's hand, and with both his own,
crushed the stiffened fingers round it,
then, bending, he placed his boyish lips
to the cup, and drank the raw spirits
greedily.*
Then he hurriedly skunk out of the
room, like thief, went on his way
his way to a drunkard's life, drunk
ards death, a drunkard's grave, and
drunkard's hell
Why does God permit these ruined
boys, these broken-hearted mothers?
Because, all around us, whenever a
maiden's yes" is whispered to a
bridegroom who drinks intoXicants. if
he only drinks a little, she is weaving
the fatal spell which will call into be-
ing such demon-ridden souls, being
cursed, even before their birth, with
the drunkard's thirsty blood, a her
itage of woe, of death and shame
Mrs. McVean Adams, in Union Signal.
Van actual incident.