The Newtown bee., 1904-12-09

he really to see snakes and go through come to this that John Colburn was to die drunkard?
 "Oh, Godu' he cried with lips that had almost forgotten to pray, ''spare me and 1 will do better. Oh God, don t let me have the tremens."
 He looked again toward the window. It was all blackness now and he heard d sound as though some one was tip toeing away. He lay down with his flesh Still creeping in terror and with his heart beating in spasmodic hurried throbS. It was only little Bennie Thrasher who had been taking out tern and had shown it into the win But the Jack -O'Lantern was an angel of God to John Colburn. Lying down again he tried to think it all out He recalled the saloon, the quarrel, but after that it was all blank. Here it was Sunday evening now. He had slept all the day. The church bells be- gan to ring for evening service and the melody of their music was song of re- proach to that prodigal son. Ding, ding, home, home, they seemed to say. And he thought of his sister going down to the village church to the meeting of the Y. P. S. c. F., where and of the prayers that the earnest young men would be making for the unsaved boys of the place. Ding, ding, home, home, ding, ding, home, ,>home. Would he ever be safe at home again or was he to die in that miserable little back chamber as the fool dieth? Conscience is the voice of the soul, Russeaus has said, and for the first time in many a day John was alone with his conscience. It does man good to see himself sometimes. It gives him an opportunity to measure him. self. And that was what John needed to do. The four years that he had spent in the city had not been years of growth in character and manhood. He | was more keen in worldly knowledge. But alas more dull in moral and spiritual things. Heaven was further away from his thoughts and his fright over the pumpkin Jack-O'Lantern showed that hell was nearer than it ought to be. John Colburn made some very strong resolutions that Sunday evening One of them was to touch no tmOre beer. Another was to keep out of Mikes saloon. He tried to pray over them. But he found it hard
 
 habit of prayer he cannot readily talk with God. God then seems very far off,
 The next Monday night as John came in from his work his landlady handed him a letter which the post man had brought in the afternoon. He saw it had the home post mark op it and when he opened it he discovered that it was from his sister Mary. It read thus:
 Dear John: It is quite while since we have heard from you so mother wanted to have me write to you again. We are all pretty we'll ouly father is troubled with rheumatism soon as the cold weather comes on. August, the hired boy, left us last week, so that father has good many chores to do. He does miss you so much. He says that he wishes that you were here or married and settled in the house over the brook. He has had it painted and repaired and it looks quite cosy. Thanksgiving is coming on and have folks. got letter from my sister yesterday and she wrote me to come home to Thanksgiving.
 'I don't see how we can spare you just nOw.'
 ''She wrote me that they had no pumpkins and l am going to buy the largest one 1 can find and take it home and have mother make us some of the pumpkin pies such as l used to have" Pumpkin pie. even the keen business relaxed the truson of his life at the thought and gave John the desired per mission. For through the mind of the employer ran the lines that he re- cited when a boy at school.
 Alb, on Thanksgiving day, when from
 the east and from the west,
 From north and from south came the
 pilgrim and guest.
 When the gray-haired New Englander
 sees 'round his board