Year: 1877




ing his badge, II cut off a little piece Of
this ribbon and sent 1t home yesterday
to mother, telling her that by the
grace Of God was going TO do right Tears
came to Bills eyes. Where was his boy
now? Perhaps dead or in prison. and if
either, the blame was more the fathers than
the sons. Others followed this prodigal,
until at last Jack Kelly arose. Not quick of
speech, lacking culture and education, yet
he told his story with pathos that added
an eloquence that touched every heart He
told them of his life a moderate drinker;
then as a drunkard; then an outcast. He
pictured his home, his wife, his children, lis
ruined fortunes and future, and he thrilled
the people with the story. Many OF them
knew il by experience. He said: my baby
sickened and died and was buried, and was
too drunk to understand anything of it.
When they led me to kiss it for the last time
was so drunk that obeyed them with a
curse. My wife was crushed with sorrow, my
children we're weeping in disgrace
and shame, but / would have had
whisky if to get it had been compelled to
have given their life blood for it. know
what drukard suffers, but thank God, /
know what a reformed one can enjoy. Last
Sunday, for the first time in years, was fit
to walk out with my family, and when
promised them to go with them to the little
mission church, they cried and laughed and
sung with JOY, and my poor wife knelt by
me and laid her head on my knees and
prayed her thankfulness. She could talk to
no body but God. If there is poor drunk
ard here, who is tired of his sinful life, tired
OF making his family and himself miserable,
let me tell him to go up and take the pledge
and put the red ribbon on his coat. People
will laugh awhile at you, boys, but you win
be so happy you can laugh back"


In moment the pledges were ready to be
signed, and the crowd divided here and there
to let the men go up to the platform. Bill
Curry watched them, and his heart, already
touched, was softened as he saw how kindly
they were met by prominent gentlemen who
had charge of the pledges He wanted to
go, but he looked at his clothes, remember
ed his past life, and sat down trembling and
saddened. If somebody would only speak
to him and ask him to go up he believed he
would, but nobody saw him, and he was too
much ashamed to go by himself. But Jack
had not forgotten him; no, he was coming
down the aisle hunting him, and grasping
him by the hand, said: "Come now, Curry"
"Ol Jack, am ragged and dirty and don't
like to-" You are no worse than l was,
and they were kind to me. Come right
along, now" and still holding his hand jack
led him up to the platform. With
a quick, nervous movement he wrote
throbbed faster and faster. He was greeted
warmly, gentlemen and ladies spoke to him,
and when he walked back to his place the
red ribbon was knotted in his coat. Tears
were in his eyes, but he brushed them off;
he was too weak to keep them back. He
would go home and tell Annie, and how
glad she would be to see him sober again; he
would try and find Willie, and with sob
he laid his head on his arm on the back of
the chair in front of him, and let memory
and Joy have full sway. Standing up for
the last song, he looked around and saw the
woman who had entered the room just after
him. In a moment he was by her side. She
too had been crying, but now she was so hap
py that her face was aglow with smiles. He
took her hand and drew her close
to him; nobody was looking when
he put his arm for a moment around her as
if to adjust her shawl, and nobody heard the
words, ''My dear wife, Thank God, Will"
People saw only shabby middle aged man
ana woman going out of the hall, but for the
first time in years the wife was leaning on
her husbands arm and listening to the low
ing words she had not heard for so long No
body saw the wife that night as she knelt TO
pray, laying her head on her husbands coat,
and pressing to her heart that simple knot of
ribbon. She had waited until Will was
asleep, so that no eye but that of God should
rest upon her.


A letter bearing the precious news and
full of prayers for his return, was sent to
Chicago, for here they heard their boy had
been seen by a friend. In week he came
home, wreck Of the bright eyed, beau
tiful lad who had once been his
mothers pride. He had been sick, the ef-
feet of exposure and drinking. He was rag
ged, and dirty, and very miserable. Ten
derly his mother nursed him, not allowing
him to grieve in unavailing remorse over
the past. but encouraging him for the flu
ure. She mended and brushed his clothes,
and with motherly pride soon began to
feel she was winning back the boy she used
to have His father was affectionate and
gentle, striving TO atone for his past neglect
by kindness and love. He was working
whenever he could get a job, and Mrs Curry
for the first time IN months dared to take