The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1908-09-16

cry-the advent cry Of the baby-a
cry which ordinarily fills a mother
with JOY, but which filed me with a
new anguish, as l thought Of such a
ht beginning, to a career, destined to
be one of piercing shame. / at hrs'
prayed that we all three might meet
death In the storm, which now seemed
to be urged forward by all the furies
of Pandemonium. Then l asked that
the little one might live and win
papa back to the path OF So
briefly, from which you, for gain. had
led him.
THE next morning, he came and
stood uneasily upon his feet, looked
from bloated eyes upon us, stopped and
kissed me and baby. and vowed he
would never drink again. believed
him. The peach came back to my
cheek; girlish lustre kindled In my
eye; wife's and mothers pride be-
gan to lay plans for life and home
but they were soon dashed and brok-
en-. for before was up from that bed
he came home drunk again. My sun
went out in sudden, irretrievable mid
night; my heavens. they could be call
cd. became starless, my heart petri-
fed. But. SIR. YOU will find it ALL and
more, In the bottle Of tears. I need
not tell you OF the next few sorrow
laden years. and the coming of the
second girl;>ef the flight Of luxury, of
the desertion of friends; Of the alb.
sence Of visitors; Of the curtailing of
expenses and enforced economy. in
order to, meet your liquor claims; OF
the loss Of my health; Of other efforts
to keep the wolf from the door; of
the times have fed. by night, with
frightened children. from b rum
crazed husband and father; Of a cheer
less hearthstone; Of a bare table, and
the birth Of the third child. In the
midst of the squalor, to which only a
drunkard's home is familiar; of my
vain efforts to keep the children cloth
ed and fed; Of the deeper depth into
which you pulled my, now helpless.
husband. One night there was such
pain In my heart that I cried out.
1t awoke Mary, who came to me and
asked what the matter was. I told her
that I was in so much pain, that I
must be dying-that she would have
to take mammals place and care for
papa and little sisters-that papa was
hopeless drunkard, and that she
would soon be the only bread winner.
You will find in the bottle Of tears,
how we spent that night, Mary and I,
In praying and planning; how little
Mary took her seat at dawn, in the
doorway, and watched for cher papa's
return. how with the rising Of the sun,
he came staggering up. the once flow
er-bordered. now weed-infested, road,
how Mary ran down. threw her arms
about her father and said-O, my
papa! Our mama came near to
death last night. She said I would
have to care for you and little sisters,
too. o. my sweet papa, you won't
drink any more. will you? With an
oath. which might become a demon,
he raised his strong arm, and slapped
the child-a blow that sent her to
the gravelled walk. and left her bleed
ing and weeping. while he came on
to curse and beat me. But you can
read 1t all, sir. in the bottle OF tears.
the only thing had in my own name
and right. to leave YOU, as a reminder
Of what these possessions have cost.
Only three mornings ago four of
your obedient henchmen bore my
precious husband home to me. at
break of day. and laid him dead on
the floor, and hurried back. I suppose.
to the gambling table. "over which
your victim had just been shot. found
some friendly negroes to dig the grave
in what thought was my garden.
and we laid him down, under his IA
vorite apple tree. thought to put
flowers there In the summer and
shells In winter. and teach my girls Of
how noble he was before. he fell into
your clutches. But Il seems I buried
him In your garden. and under your
apple tree! Indeed, he was laid on
your floor. 1t is marked with your
victims blood. After some kind COL
ored friends helped me to shroud him.
and while sitting up with his precious
remains that night, I tried to wash
out the stains Of blood, thinking Il
pn,II