The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1921-07-21
FIRST NsTAIAfENT.

Elias whitney, DID,. principal of the Theological College of St. Georges, was much addicted to opium The stand, from some foolish freak when he was at college; for having read DeQuincey'S description of his dreams and sensations. he had drenched his tobacco with 1audanum effects. He found, as so many more have done, that the practice is easier to attain than to get rid of, and for many years he continued. to be a slave to the drug. an object of mingled horror and pity to his friends and relatives. I can see him now, with yellow, pasty face. droop- ing lids, and pin-point pupils, all huddled in a chair, the wreck and ruin of noble man.
 One night-it was in June, fe9- there came ring to my bell, about the hour when a man gives his first up in my chair, and my wife laid her needle work down in her lap and made a little face of disappointment
 "A patient!" said she. "You'n have to go out"
 groaned. for I was newly come back from a weary day.
 We heard the door open, a few hurried words, and then quick steps upon the linoleum Our own door flew open, and lady, clad in some dark-co1ored stuff, with a black veil, entered the room.
 You will excuse my calling so late" she began, and then, suddenly losing her self-ontrol. she ran for wife's neck, and sobbed upon her shoulder. "Oh, I'm in such .troubleI" she cried; T do so want a little help.'
 Why said my wife. pulling up her veil, ''it is Kate Whitney. How you startled me, Kate, I had not an idea who when o m in"
 "I didn't know what to do, so I came straight to you" That was all ways the way. Folk who were in grief came to my wife like birds to a lighthouse.
 ''It was very sweet of you to come. Now, you must have some wine and water, and sit here comfortably and rather that I sent James off to bed %
 "oh, no mo! I want the Doctors advice and help, too. It's about Isa- He has not been home for two days. I am so frightened about himi''
 It was not the first time that she had spoken to us of her husbands s trouble. to me as doctor, to my wife asSsR old friend and school com her by such words as we could find Did she know Khere her husband was? Was it possible that we could bring him back to her?
 It seemed that it was. She had the surest information that of late he had, when the fit was on him. made use of an opium den in the farthest east of the city. Hitherto to one day, and he had come back. twitching and shattered, in the even ing. But now the spell had been upon him eight-and- forty hours, and he lay there. doubtless among the dregs of the docks, breathing in the poison SlPenlnC off the effects There he was to be found, she was sure of it, at the 'Bar of Gold" in Upper Swandam Lane. But what was she to do? How could she a young and timid woman. make her way into such place, and pluck her husband out from among the ruffiians who surrounded him?
 There was the case, and of course there was but one way out of it Might I not escort her to this place? And then, as a second thought, why should she come at all? I was Isa Whitney's medical adviser. and as such I had influence over him. I could manage it better if I were alone. I promised her on my word that I would send him home in a cab within two hours if he were indeed at the And so in ten minutes I had left my armchair and cheery sitting-room be- hind me, and was speeding eastward in hanson on a strange errand, as It seemed to me at the time. though the future only could show how strange it was to be.
 But there was no great difficulty in the first stage of my adventure. Up per Swandam Lane is a vile alley lurking behind the high wharveS to the east of London Bridge. Be tween a slop-shop and a kin-shop, approached by a steep flight of steps leaG-ng down to a black gap like the of fnIInd the den of which I was in search. Ordering my >cab to wait, I passed down the steps worn hollow in the centre by the cease1ess tread of drunken feet, lamp above the door I found the latch. and made my way into a long, low room. thick and heavy with the brown opium smoke, and terraced with wooden berths, like the fore castle of an enigrant ship.
 Through the gloom one could dinlly catch a glimpse Of bodies lying in strange fantastic poses. bowed shoulders, bent knees, heads thrown back and chins pointing upward. with here and there a dark, lack-lustre eye turned upon the newcomer. Out of the black shadows there glimmered little red circles of light, now bright, now faint. as the burning poison wax metal pipes The most lay silent but some muttered to themselves, and others talked together in a strange low nonotonous voice. their con versation coming in gushes. and then suddenly tailing off into silence, each mumb1ing out his own thoughts. and rayi1g little heed to the words of his neighbor. At the farther end was a small brazier of burning charcoal, beside which on a three-legged wood en stool there sat a tall, thin old man. with his jaw resting upon his two fists. and his elbow upon his knees staring into the fire.
 As entered. a sa1low Malay at tendant had hurried up with a pipe for me and a supply of the drug, beck oning me to an empty berth.
 Thank you. I have not come to stav" said I. 'There is a friend of mine here MT. Isa Whitney, and I wish to speak with him"
 There was a movement and an ex- c,amation from my right. and, peer ing through the gloom. saw Whit ney. pale, haggard, and unkempt,