The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1904-03-16

| Just then the great CLOCK IN the court
| house struck O. 1t was the hour fol
closing their meetings, and, While
Brannan and his party congratulated
themselves on a victory. the WomeD
prepared, oh. so sadly, to 60 away,
Their faith had been so strong, they be-
lieved that God would complete His
wonderful work that night. and now
| they must 60. leaving it unfinished
Suddenly they paused. for childish
voice, which had the depth of won.
| ans anguish. walled out. "Oh, don't
give it up, it's to save my father!''
Then they parted right and left be-
fore the bent and twisted figure of
Mamie Burke. who pressed to the
front of the crowd. AS she stood
there with her tattered shawl thrown
off, the light from one Of the colored
lamps falling full on the poor, little
form. on the floating hair and pale face
with solemn eyes, there was something
so weird and strange in her appearance
that hush fell upon that great multi
from the world Of spirits.
"Ben Brannan." she said. and the
| weak. little voice grew firm and stern
as an accusing angels. My father,
George Burke, is kind and tender
man when he lets whisky alone: he
earns 81 a day, and you know that's
enough to keep us we'll. We live in a
miserable little garret on Vine street;
there is hardly enough fire to keep
me from freezing sometimes. and l
have had nothing to eat to-day but
piece of dry bread; the money that my
father ought to spend on his home goes
for whisky, which makes a brute OF
him; and yet you stand there, Ben
Brannan, and say you do no harm! IL
is your whisky that made my father
give me the kick down stairs that left
me like this; it is that, that sends him
home at night to beat me with that
crutch till cry out to God to let me
die: it was your whisky that made
him abuse my mother till she died OF
broken heart, and it was you that
cot him to break the promise he made
at her grave that he'd meet her IN
Heaven. Ben Brannan! cried the
childish voice. breaking into wild sobs
at last. "and oh. if your whisky Kills
him body and soul. and he's parted
from her forever and ever, will you
dare to tell my mother, when you meet
her at the Judgment, that you never
did her any harm?
The unnatural strength which mad
upheld the child gave way at last; she
tottered and would have fallen. mad
not a tall, powerful looking man
pushed his way out from the saloon
and caught her away from the kindly
womanly hand stretched out for her.
Holding the poor. brave little girl IN
his arms. while the great tears rolled
over his rough face, he said:
Its all true. every word OF 1t. I'm
her father. poor lamb. and I've been
lust such a brute as she's told you. but
Pm ready to sign your pledges to-
night, ladies, and by the help of God
III try to keep it. And now, Ben,
turning toward him as he spoke, for
the sake of poor fellows like me who
are so easily tempted; for the sake OF
their wives and children: for the sake
of YOUR own wife and baby, who is
no brighter or prettier than my Mamie
was once, ask you to give up THIS MIS-
erable business"
Brannan had grown very pale While
Mamie and her father were speaklng'
his pretty little wife. was sooblng
bitterly as she clung to his arm. ana
the sweet. innocent face of his baoy
girl looked wonderingly up into his.
There was a fearful struggle in the
mans soul; how could he yield. When
he had boasted that he never Would!
But then. how could he continue to
sell the maddening poison which could
make man crush and mangle the
delicate form of his own child? Then
as the idea which Mamie had sug-
cested came back to him, and ne
thought of the possibility OF such
women as. poor Mary Burke requiring
their husbands blood at his hands, ne
hesitated no longer.
"l'l give in" he said. huskily. u
thought could hold out against an
angel from Heaven, but coulun I
stand that poor lame child"
Then Mamie was caressed and cried
over in way that would have sur
prised her, if she had not been so won
derfully happy; at last the crowd d1s'
persed, the child kissed Mrs. Brannan
and the baby, and shook hands Win
Ben, and then, muff1ed in a great, so1t
shawl which one of the ladies mad
wrapped around her, she was carried
home by ner father, whom she had
won back to the right way. While falth-
full Dick Townsend trotted close pe-
hind them, saying at intervals, ~.
Nan amt you glad you wentF And
the solemn stars. which, three weeks
before. had shone upon almost a hun
dred saloons. large and small. looked
down that night to see the last one
closed and victory complete.-WaVerley
Magazine.
Goats.