THE WORST FOE 
 
 HORACE STRONG
 
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 book, belongs 1
 
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 THE 
 
 WORST FOE, 
 
 TEMPERANCE STORY, 
 
 BY 
 
 GRACE STRONG. 
 
 (THIRTEENTH EDITION.) 
 
 THE MONARCH BOOK CO., 
 
 CHICAGO, ILL. STOCKTON, CAL. PHILADELPHIA, PA. 
 
 1892.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1885, 
 
 By WM. G. HUBBARD, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C.
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To my mother, who taught my infant feet to 
 walk, who directed my lisping accents aright, who 
 carefully guarded me through helplessness until I 
 reached the age of accountability, and who has ever 
 since been my best companion and counsellor, whose 
 tender encouragement nerved me for this effort, this 
 
 book is affectionately dedicated. 
 
 AUTHOR. 
 
 1782146
 
 Yours in faith and prayer, 
 
 GRACE STRONG.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE DENESMORES. 
 
 ' A soul as full of worth, as void of pride, 
 Which nothing seeks to show, or needs to hide." 
 
 Popt. 
 
 " Woman ! experience might have told me 
 That all must love thee who behold thee." 
 
 Byron* 
 
 TITHE Denesmore place stands in the suburbs 
 <* of the thriving town of Staunton. To its 
 natural loveliness the decorative hand of art has 
 added many charms. 
 
 The grand old house, old enough to be ven- 
 erable, yet showing no signs of decay, nestles in 
 the bosom of a magnificent grove of trees. A 
 few acres in the rear of the house all that are 
 left of a once large farm are carefully cultivated. 
 The town, rapidly growing to a city, encroaches 
 more and more upon the Denesmore homestead, 
 threatening the ultimate destruction of its groves 
 and meadows. 
 
 In one corner of the pasture grazes a group 
 of soft-eyed Jerseys. Hives of bees are placed
 
 6 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 near the beautiful flower-garden, and their busy 
 hum the long summer day through, lulls one to 
 repose. At the bottom of a hill to which a foot- 
 path leads, is a bubbling spring whose sparkling 
 waters supply the needs of the family. A superb 
 English mastiff eyes with dignified glance the 
 casual visitor, and announces his coming by a 
 bark which has in it as much of friendliness a3 
 anger. 
 
 John Denesmore has for twenty-five years oc- 
 cupied this coveted home. Here he and his wife 
 began their married life together. Here their 
 children were born and grew to maturity. He 
 had seen the little village grow to a thriving 
 town, approaching nearer and nearer to hi? 
 home, devouring bit by bit his once extensive 
 farm, converting his field lots into town lots 
 and streets, greatly enhancing the value of the 
 land and increasing Mr. Denesmore's wealth. 
 Where once grew fields of waving corn were 
 now tall brick houses. To-day, as we look 
 either way up or down the long avenue, we see 
 ^leasant and attractive homes of a prosperous 
 people. Some say that nature unadorned is 
 more lovely than when man has added his 
 improvements, but such is not our theory. 
 Man's intelligence, co-operating with nature, 
 can make what was once beautiful, more beauti- 
 ful still. Nature is thus guided and aided by 
 human intelligence, and the rugged grandeur
 
 THE WORST FOE. 7 
 
 softened and made more pleasing to the eye. 
 
 The square stone mansion, with bay windows 
 above and below, on either side, speaks of 
 wealth, elegance and ease, yet so plain and 
 home-like as to preclude the idea of aristocracy. 
 The lawn in front reaches down to the street, 
 which extends south, and east of the house is 
 the shady grove, where the cows can find shelter 
 in the heat of the day. Below the hill is the 
 crystal brook, fed by the spring we have men- 
 tioned. Four little feet have often paddled in 
 its crystal waters in the days gone by, only giv- 
 ing up the pleasure when age and custom forbid 
 it. All along the hillside are grape arbors, 
 yielding the most luscious fruits in their season. 
 The grove on the west presents varieties of 
 shade trees. Here families of birds have held 
 unmolested possession for many generations. 
 Here they built their nests, reared their young, 
 and sent them forth into the world. The east- 
 ern view is the delight of the family. Covered 
 with nature's richest carpeting of green sum- 
 mer-houses here and there, a sparkling fountain 
 in the centre, and as the heavens are more 
 beautiful at night when dotted with brilliant 
 stars, so this scene is made more beautiful 
 by the myriads of stars of the vegetable 
 kingdom sprinkled all over it. Flowers of 
 every genus known to this clime may be found 
 here in their perfect state. The children of Mr.
 
 8 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Denesmore, when younger than they are now, 
 thought these grounds the home of fairies. 
 Though these children have reached that ma- 
 ture age at which fairies and myths fade, yet to 
 them it is still an enchanted spot. Close to the 
 fence tall maples shade the streets. Here many 
 a weary soul, bowed beneath life's cares and 
 anxieties, pauses to lean against the rail, and 
 while the gentle zephyrs, bearing the sweetest 
 fragrance of flowers, cool his heated brow, he 
 wonders if Heaven can be more lovely thao 
 the scene within. 
 
 It was a balmy day in June, and all nature 
 was robed in her most comely garb. Seated 
 near the bay window are Mrs. Denesmore and 
 her daughter, earnestly gazing at the landscape 
 so dear to them, and listening to the distant 
 hum which wells up from the busy life of the 
 growing young city. A gentle breeze wafts 
 the mingled perfume of roses and other aro- 
 matic plants through the open casement. A 
 look of happy contentment is on the face of 
 both mother and daughter. Mrs. Densemore's 
 age sits so lightly upon her that she really seems 
 youthful. Her daughter, just budding into 
 womanhood, is like a half blown rose at 
 early morn, when the dewdrops sparkle like 
 diamonds in the sunlight. Their conversation has 
 been pleasant, for no other than pleasant 
 thoughts could produce such happy content- 
 ment as beams from the face of each.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 9 
 
 " We have great cause to be happy, Pauline," 
 said Mrs. Denesmore. ' ' They have come back 
 again, and your hours of loneliness are over." 
 Mrs. Denesmore's voice was kind and gentle as 
 herself, and there was a sweet spirit of devotion 
 in her manner which made her a model mother. 
 
 ' ' Yes, mother, God has been very good to us. 
 We have this beautiful home, I have you and 
 father, and am spared to both of you ; and now 
 brother has returned to us, and " She blushed 
 and hesitated as if there were something more 
 to say, which she would not mention even in the 
 presence of her mother. 
 
 "I understand your hesitation, Pauline," said 
 her mother with a smile. "Your pleasure is not 
 alone in the return of your brother, but in a cer- 
 tain young gentleman who will be with him. 
 You would like to pay him some compliment, 
 but hesitate to speak his worth even in my 
 presence." 
 
 "Not exactly, mother," said Pauline, her 
 pretty face becoming serious, and a shadow 
 of pain passing over it. "I could not speak 
 too highly of him, but I was interrupted by 
 a thought." 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 ' ' When Maria was here last we were talking 
 of William, and I asked her why she did not 
 congratulate me, showing her my engagement 
 ring. She looked startled, and with a frown
 
 IO THE WORST FOE. 
 
 on her pretty face, said, she did not think my 
 choice worthy of congratulation. What do you 
 think her objections to William were?" 
 
 "I cannot imagine I never heard anything 
 against him! " 
 
 ' ' Nor has any one else. When I asked her 
 to explain, she said, apparently half in jest and 
 half in earnest: 'His ancestry could not have 
 been much. He's only a poor lawyer and an 
 adventurer, whose sole ambition is to marry a 
 wealthy girl and be elevated into the position 
 his ambition longs for. ' ' 
 
 "Oh, never mind her, Pauline. We all know 
 that Maria is a spoiled child, and did we not 
 know that she does not love William I should 
 be inclined to think her jealous," said Mrs. 
 Denesmore, while her fingers worked deftly 
 with some fancy materials she was constructing. 
 "I hope you defended William, Pauline. I 
 don't see how any one could so mistake real 
 worth for avarice." 
 
 "Had it been any one else, mother," re- 
 turned Pauline, ' ' I would not have cared, for 
 all the world cannot change my opinion of 
 William. But you know brother Guy loves 
 Maria Day, and what I have long feared was 
 fully confirmed that evening; she is not only 
 spoiled, but envious, petulant, selfish, and 
 wholly unworthy to be my brother's wife. A 
 woman's influence over a man like Guy is great.
 
 THE WORST FOE. II 
 
 One less noble and trusting would not heed her 
 voice, but Guy is so susceptible that the woman 
 he loves can lead him to Heaven or plunge him 
 into eternal woe." 
 
 Mrs. Denesmore watched the anxious face of 
 her daughter, and fancying that she was slightly 
 vexed at the remark of Maria about her lover, 
 she said : 
 
 "You must make great allowance for her, 
 my dear. As I told you, Maria is a spoiled 
 child. If Guy were her husband, she would find 
 herself in a different atmosphere, and gradually 
 grow to respect the feelings of others. And 
 besides the important step is not yet taken, 
 and Guy's judgment is too good for him to take 
 it until he knows what he is about." 
 
 "I know brother better than his own mother. 
 He loves Maria, and even if they are not en- 
 gaged, it will be hard for him to give her up, 
 though he should discover imperfections in her," 
 said the anxious sister with a sigh. This brief 
 conversation had driven the sunlight from the 
 faces of both mother and daughter. Perfect 
 bliss is impossible in this world. Anxious cares 
 for others, if nothing else, will at times o'er- 
 shadow our happiness despite all we may do. 
 
 "Helloa, Pauline, what's the matter?" de- 
 manded the hearty, good-natured husband and 
 father, entering the sitting-room at this mo- 
 ment. "You look as if you were getting
 
 12 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 ready for a funeral what's the trouble ? Why, 
 mother, too, is looking sober as a judge." 
 
 "We were talking of Guy, father," said Pau- 
 line, after a momentary embarrassment. 
 
 ' ' Of Guy ? Why, he is in good health, with 
 fair prospects for the future. Were you cjflcu- 
 lating on the chances of his failure borrowing 
 trouble ? I have always boasted that there'was 
 not a pessimist among us, but here I find you 
 both looking solemn as judges at some event 
 that will never happen." 
 
 "We were speaking of Guy and Maria, 
 father and and I will tell you candidly that 
 I don't believe she is worthy of him," said 
 Pauline, her eyes drooping beneath the strong 
 glance of her lather. 
 
 "Oh, well, Guy will find that out in time, 
 never fear," said Mr. Denesmore, laying his 
 hat on the sofa at his side. ' ' He is a student 
 of human nature, and if there are bad qualities 
 in her nature they will be discovered by him, 
 you can rest assured of that. I guess Guy is 
 coming in now. 'Talk of angels and you can 
 hear the. flutter of their wings. ' ' 
 
 The eyes of parents and daughter were turned 
 with fondness and anxiety toward the fine, intelli- 
 gent looking young man who had just entered. 
 
 Guy Denesmore was all a fond parent might 
 ask. He was obedient, kind, with no ignoble 
 qualities, and enough ambition to stimulate him
 
 THE WORST FOE. 13 
 
 to action, yet not enough to trample under foot 
 the rights of others. Guy was a merry, unself- 
 ish lad, and, if he possessed any fault, it was an- 
 overweening confidence in his friends and a ten- 
 dency to have his actions directed by their 
 desires. This weakness, if it was a weakness, 
 was more the outpouring of a generous heart 
 than a real fault. He was a model youth. See 
 him now, as he sits talking with his parents and 
 sister, and one can but feel perfect confidence in 
 his manliness and integrity. His mother he 
 held in the highest affection. Her wise counsel 
 directed his way until he arrived at the age of 
 maturity, and she is still the sharer of his hopes 
 and disappointments. His father, both himself 
 and Pauline always regarded as the embodiment 
 of all that was good and noble, yet it was to the 
 mother they ever appealed in times of petty 
 tribulation. 
 
 The Denesmore family consists only of the 
 four whom we have mentioned. Mr. Denes- 
 more is nearing three-score, but having no 
 mental or physical ailment, he was a well-pre- 
 served old man, with but few streaks of gray in 
 his hair, and an almost youthful light in his 
 eyes. A little above medium height, features 
 regular but not handsome, eyes beaming with 
 good humor, kindness and sympathy for erring 
 mankind, he is always ready to give a helping 1 
 hand when needed, either by substantial gifts or
 
 14 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 encouraging words to the downhearted. Such 
 we find the generous, prosperous merchant, Mr. 
 Denesmore. 
 
 Guy, their only son, is twenty-four, the inter- 
 esting age when the intellect, like spring buds, 
 
 ' 
 
 is unfolding every hour, and the anxious in- 
 quiries, "What will our boy be?" are answered 
 by seeing the kind of a man he has made. Guy 
 lias fulfilled his parents' most fond anticipation. 
 He is tall and handsome, broad-chested, with 
 noble features and large brown eyes. His well- 
 formed head is thickly covered with chestnut 
 curls, and his large brown eyes are both ex- 
 pressive and tender, sparkling with humor and 
 beaming with intelligence. Could fond parents 
 desire a more promising son ? 
 
 Pauline, the light of the Denesmore house- 
 hold, is a gentle, loving girl of twenty-two, 
 a little below medium height, with a countenance 
 intellectually pale, large brown eyes, a shade 
 darker than her brother's, and she possesses a 
 rich heritage in a happy, sunny temperament, 
 which, since her existence, has never been 
 shadowed by more than a passing cloud. In 
 addition to being blessed with kind Christian 
 parents, they had every advantage wealth could 
 give. 
 
 Four years previous to the opening of our 
 story, Guy brought home with him one vaca- 
 tion, and introduced into his family, a college
 
 THE WORST FOE. I 5 
 
 friend named William Strasmore, who immedi- 
 ately engrafted himself into the good graces 
 and friendship of the entire family in spite of 
 the difference in their circumstances. He not 
 only won the friendship of Guy and esteem 
 of his parents, but the heart of the fair Pauline, 
 as we have seen. William was a self-made 
 man, having but little recollection of his parents. 
 
 He was brought up by a good, industrious 
 farmer, who gave him the scant "schooling" 
 which the district afforded, and when he 
 showed a thir?t for knowledge, Mr. Johns, 
 whose limited means could not provide for 
 the boy, advised William to go to the nearest 
 village and seek the most profitable employ- 
 ment, that he might work his way through 
 college. 
 
 "But remember, Will," said Mr. Johns, 
 " should you fail, you still have a home here." 
 
 Taking an affectionate leave of his foster 
 parents, he left the old homestead and went 
 out to seek his fortune. After long years, by 
 steady industry, he worked his way through 
 college. He entered about the same time Guy 
 did, and having niany noble traits in common, 
 they soon became fast friends. The history of 
 the youth's gallant struggle with poverty greatly 
 endeared him to the noble-hearted Guy. The end 
 of their college days came at last. William 
 thought of procuring employment for a year to
 
 1 6 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 enable him to study law, his chosen profession, 
 as his slender means were exhausted. Guy, who 
 learned his object, insisted that he should ac- 
 company him home, saying he would consider 
 it a privilege to loan him sufficient funds to 
 finish his studies. William declared that it was 
 more than he could accept of a friend, but Guy 
 was so persistent that he promised at last to con- 
 sider the matter of spending the vacation at his 
 friend's home. He did, and it proved the hap- 
 piest vacation to the Denesmore's they had 
 ever known, and one which was always a 
 pleasure to look back on. 
 
 r
 
 PAULINE DENSMORE, THE HEROINE OF OUR STORY. 
 See page 14.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE DAYS. 
 
 "Change that discontented air, 
 Frowns become not one so fair, 
 'Tis not love disturbs thy rest ; 
 Love's a stranger to thy breast." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 FROM the home of the Denesmore s we ask the 
 reader's attention to the house of the Days. 
 There is a marked contrast in the two places as 
 there is in the people who inhabit them, though 
 both families are highly respected, moving in the 
 best society in Staunton. The house of the 
 Days was farther up town and far more aristo- 
 cratic than Mr. Denesmore's, more elegantly 
 finished and furnished. Grand and proud as the 
 home of some lord, it stands in the centre of a 
 large grass plat without tree or shrub, enclosed 
 by stone wall and reached by a flight of broad 
 stone steps. 
 
 With the aid of art and accomplishments Mrs. 
 Day might be thought handsome, but a close 
 observation of her features would discover signs of 
 selfishness, which, despite the tall graceful figure 
 and regular features, mars her beauty. Her 
 eyes are large and dark, her hair jet black and 
 
 (2) 17
 
 1 8 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 yet her complexion fair, and her age difficult to 
 determine, yet one could see she was on the 
 sunny side of life. Reclining on a sofa, one 
 jeweled hand idly toying with the leaves of a 
 novel is the counterpart of Mrs. Day, though 
 many years younger. Despite Mrs. Day's youth- 
 ful appearance one can see that they are moth- 
 er and daughter. It is Maria, the only daughter 
 of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Day, an acknowledged 
 belle, though a petted and spoiled beauty. 
 
 Seated near the window is a bright e) ed boy 
 of ten summers, who is deeply buried in his book, 
 yet not so completely lost as not to hear what the 
 ladies say. Mark was the youngest of the Day 
 famil) , and a remarkable boy 'he was indeed. 
 Never did a child seemed to possess so many 
 contradictory characteristics. He was a lad but 
 poorly understood, and while some declared him 
 to be the worst boy in town, others said he was 
 the best. Mark had, among other sterling char- 
 acteristics, wonderful firmness of purpose. He 
 was a generous, fun-loving boy, up to all sorts of 
 mischief, yet with a tender heart for the oppressed, 
 and despised hollow mockery and show. 
 
 ' 'Why don't you make Guy declare himself, 
 Maria," said Mrs. Day after a few moments spent 
 in tapping her knee with her fan. ' 'I know he 
 loves you, and I think it is your fault that you 
 are not already engaged. I don't believe in 
 long courtships. You and Guy have had since
 
 THE WORST FOE. 19 
 
 you were children to make up your minds about 
 each other." Mrs. Day here placed her fan to 
 her beautiful mouth to conceal the smile that 
 played thereon, and half in jest and half in 
 earnest, continued, ' ' Your father was not long in 
 proposing, and he was as particular as the 
 average." 
 
 "Well, I guess papa hadn't a silly mother and 
 sister to lecture him on morals and manners, " 
 said Miss Day half spitefully, while a frown 
 gathered on her pretty brow. 
 
 "Do you think, Maria, that they are trying to 
 turn him against you ? " 
 
 "I am very well convinced they are." 
 
 "Has he been less attentive since he came 
 home?" 
 
 ' 'No, he thinks too well of me to slight me, 
 but I know them so well and hate them accord- 
 ingly, especially that pious fraud, Pauline," 
 snapped Maria, angrily raising her body to an 
 upright position on the sofa and drawing her feet 
 under her, while she dropped her novel on the 
 carpet, "we can agree on nothing nothing at 
 all. They neither one like me, though Pauline 
 is no better than I, if she does do mission and 
 Sunday School work. You remember the storm 
 last summer, mother, which detained me at 
 Denesmores so late that I was forced to stay all 
 night? There was such fearful lightning, and 
 I'm so afraid of lightning. Pauline saw I was
 
 2O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 frightened, and asked me to share her room, and 
 said if I was nervous she would read to me. Of 
 course I could not listen to reading and she began 
 to lecture me about fear. She said there were 
 evils more to be dreaded than storms of thunder 
 and lightnings evils which destroy body and 
 soul ; that we could all do something to remedy 
 them. I began to feel ridiculous in the presence 
 of this fanatic ; and when she put her arm around 
 my neck and begged me never, for the love of 
 humanity, to use or encourage the use of wine 
 or alcoholic beverages, I don't know whether I 
 was most amused or indignant. She feared 
 I did not realize the harm it was doing in our 
 land. What if I do sip a little wine when I am 
 weak, and what if I do offer it to my callers on 
 New Years day, is it any reason that I will either 
 become a drunkard or make drunkards of others? 
 Besides it is fashionable, and I told her so. The 
 best people in the world do it, and why should 
 not I ? But she implored me to forsake 
 fashion for principle. Did you ever hear any- 
 thing so ridiculous ? As though anyone need 
 forsake either. She got her Bible and I was 
 forced to listen while she read, and then she knelt 
 and prayed just as if she was some preacher, and 
 I never saw or heard anything so silly. I can go 
 to church and listen to a sermon, even if I don't 
 believe in it, for there one can study fashions, but 
 a prayer to a God of whose very existence we
 
 THE WORST FOE. 21 
 
 have no proof, always tires me. Her prayer was 
 a direct insult to us, for it was for the advance- 
 ment of the temperance cause, which you know 
 we have ridiculed, and she knew it. That is the 
 way she insults me, or by pretending to 
 love and pray for me, and then as soon 
 as I am away she will tell Guy how hard-hearted 
 a sinner I am, and wholly unworthy to be any 
 Christian man's wife. Christianindeed ! Deliver 
 me from all such Christians. " 
 
 Maria had worked herself up to a pitch of 
 frenzy over her imaginary wrongs, and forgot for 
 the time being her brother, who had become so 
 absorbed in the acrimonious assault of his sister 
 on Pauline Denesmore, that he laid his book 
 aside and listened. Evidently the boy was much 
 displeased, for Pauline was not only his warm 
 friend, but he was a member of her Sunday 
 School class. He checked his first impulse to 
 make an angry retort for he remembered that she 
 had taught him that, "A wrathful man stirreth 
 up strife, but he that is slow to anger appeaseth 
 .strife." 
 
 His dark eye flashed with indignation, his 
 breast heaved, and when Maria had concluded 
 with all the scorn her pent up passion had at 
 command, he could control himself no longer and 
 burst forth with : 
 
 "Maria, have you determined to serve the 
 devil, that you must call the best woman irx
 
 22 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Staunton a hypocrite, because she tries to make 
 people better ? If all women would pray and 
 work for temperance as Pauline does, there 
 wouldn't be so many ragged children on the 
 streets." 
 
 "Oh-ho, you are a convert, are you," asked 
 Maria sarcastically. 
 
 "Yes, and I'm not ashamed of it either," the 
 boy bravely answered. 
 
 ' 'I suppose you will turn a temperance mis- 
 sionary ? " 
 
 "I'm not goin' to sit by and hear a young wo- 
 man who has been such a friend to me as Pauline 
 Denesmore has, abused. 'She no better than 
 you ? ' Did you ever make any body better ? 
 No, but she has. You used to scold me, slap 
 me, drive me from the room when I was in your 
 way, or your aristocrats were here. You made 
 me hunt amusement in the streets among idle 
 boys, and there Pauline found me little better 
 than a heathen. She told me stories that I never 
 heard at home, and of a grander world than this; 
 that's something you and mother never think of; 
 you are too busy trying to enjoy this. She 
 taught me it was wrong to quarrel and fight, so 
 I have not had a row for two years, and I don't 
 care how many chips the boys put on their 
 shoulders, I'm not goin' to knock 'em off. She 
 made me so much better that you even let me 
 come in here occasionally, and I never make you
 
 THE WORST FOE. 23 
 
 ashamed when your grandees come, by shaving 
 a poodle, or exchanging somebody's hat for the 
 old hat the gardener threw away. You say I'm 
 better everybody says I'm better ; now who 
 made me better ? It wasn't you." 
 
 "Do you think it was Pauline and all her non- 
 sense ?" asked Maria as spitefully as she could. 
 
 "Yes, it was Pauline and all her goodness." 
 
 "Her goodness! it's her hypocrisy. She 
 wants people to talk about her, and so acts out a 
 lie. She and you had better start a branch mis- 
 sionary society." 
 
 The boy was not equal to the bitter sarcasm 
 of his sister. All his good impulses were swept . 
 aside, and almost blind with passion, he seized 
 his straw hat which lay on the floor at his side, 
 and said : 
 
 "I'm going right to Guy Denesmore and tell 
 him every word you've said. I'll teach you what 
 it is to slander a good girl. " And the indignant 
 youth left the room, leaving his mother and sis- 
 ter both screaming for him to return. 
 
 Little attention had been paid to Mark until 
 he threatened to tell Guy, and knowing his de- 
 termined spirit, both mother and daughter became 
 alarmed at once. Both sorely regretted having 
 spoken so freely in his presence. 
 
 "Why didn't we send him from the room," 
 said Maria in dismay. "It would be just like 
 him to tell Guy every word, " and as the willful
 
 24 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 boy could not be brought back, the spoiled beauty 
 began to cry. 
 
 Mrs. Day, who had weak nerves, declared she 
 was entirely upset by that horrible boy. Those 
 temperance fanatics and Sunday School people 
 were ruining him. She used her smelling salts 
 to keep from fainting, and had a servant start 
 out to bring Mark back ; but too late, too much 
 time had already been lost, the boy could not 
 be found. 
 
 Mark Day inherited his willfulness from his 
 father, while he drew his gentleness and kind- 
 ness from his weak, almost silly, but good-hearted 
 mother. There were but two members of the 
 Day family whom we have not introduced. Mr. 
 Thomas Day, the father of Mark, was a shrewd 
 business man of the world, who had a will of his 
 own closely bordering on stubbornness. He 
 entertained the idea that he was master of him- 
 self and those under him, thanks to none but 
 himself. He did not believe in the existence of 
 a God, and was one of those materialistic gentle- 
 men, too intelligent to endorse the old fogy no- 
 tions of the Bible. He was a purely intellectual 
 infidel, who took delight in deriding and ridicul- 
 ing the people called Christians. He did not 
 know whether a man had a soul or not, and did 
 not care ; he only found himself in this world, 
 and resolved to have a good time while here, and 
 take his chances on there being any hereafter.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2JJ 
 
 He believed there was no harm and much com- 
 fort derived from the social glass ; as for a mart 
 becoming a drunkard, that was quite a different 
 thing. Every man should have his guage, and 
 go no farther. Because some men ate too much 
 beefsteak for their health it was no reason all 
 mankind should discard beefsteak ; why not the 
 same rule apply to liquor. Mr. Day rejoiced in 
 being called a liberalist in everything. 
 
 He was regarded by his liberal friends as a 
 model husband and father, and though he did 
 supply the temporal wants of his family, yet 
 when crossed in any way, they received the 
 full benefit of the disturbed tranquility of his 
 mind. The eldest son, Ernest Day, is a fast 
 young man, who, with all his father's inflexible 
 will, possesses a more revengeful spirit than 
 Maria. He was twenty-seven years of age at 
 the time of our story, and like his father, a skep- 
 tic and believer in the social glass. From argu- 
 ing against the temperance fanatics, he came to 
 hate the men and women who would restrain his 
 liberties. 
 
 Maria Day was the favorite of her parents and 
 spoiled accordingly. Like her brother she wor- 
 ships no God save self, and has no higher motive 
 than the gratification of her pride and her intense 
 dislike of those who oppose her. 
 
 Mischievous Mark Day was a puzzle to every 
 body. When only four years of age he was the
 
 26 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 budding promise of a bad boy, full of impudence 
 and profanity, which shocked his mother and 
 amused his father. He was so continually in 
 boyish mischief that even at home he acquired 
 the name of an incorrigible boy. But for the 
 past two years he had been trying to do right 
 for right's sake. Not until lately, however, had 
 his friends become aware of the change in him, 
 and no one seemed able to tell the cause. His 
 teacher extolled him for his industry and gentle- 
 manly deportment. The boy who had promised 
 only to become a champion prize fighter, now 
 bid fair to become a refined gentleman. Grad- 
 ually Mark was winning the confidence of all, 
 and was no longer dreaded by his mother and 
 sister. But when he completely lost his temper 
 his old willfulness got the better of him, as we 
 have seen, just when the child was making his 
 strongest effort to do right. Christ rebuked 
 Peter for his fiery zeal when he cut off the ear 
 of a servant of the high priest, and bade him put 
 up his sword, but dear reader, be not too quick 
 to condemn Mark. He had not yet learned to 
 rely in such trials wholly on One mighty to save. 
 He had trusted in himself alone, and as is 
 always the result in such cases, he was too weak 
 to resist the temptation.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WILLIAM STRASMORE. 
 
 "O happiness ! our being, end and aim ! 
 Good, pleasure, ease, content! what e'er thy name, 
 That something still which prompts the eternal sigh, 
 For which we bear to live or dare to die." 
 
 Essay on Man, 
 
 "What conscience dictates to be done, 
 
 Or warns me not to do, 
 This, teach me more than hell to shun, 
 
 That, more than Heaven pursue." 
 
 Pope. 
 
 T9TE must ask our readers to go back with us 
 ^^ four years in our story. Pauline, who had 
 just returned home from a female college where 
 her education had been completed, is flitting 
 here and there about the old place, experiencing 
 only the joy which a child can feel on rejoining 
 her parents after a long absence. 
 
 "I will never leave them again," she thought 
 as she noticed the exquisite pleasure it gave her 
 parents to have her with them once more. She 
 had preceded her brother a day or two, but he 
 was now expected in a few hours. He had been 
 to a different institution, and having completed 
 his education, save his professional course, wrote 
 
 27
 
 28 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 home to his parents that one year more woulet 
 finish that, and he would soon establish himself 
 in his native town as an M. D. 
 
 Pauline, having read her brother's letter, super- 
 intended the arrangement of his room and the 
 room of the young friend he was to bring with 
 him. She prepared boquets of the choicest 
 flowers, and made the rooms fragrant as bloom- 
 ing gardens. Guy's room was in the south- 
 east corner of the building on the second floor ; 
 his friend was to occupy one equally elegant on 
 the opposite side of the hall. Everything was 
 done that love and taste could suggest to make 
 the return of the brother, and visit of his friend 
 a pleasant event. 
 
 The Denesmore carriage was sent to the depot 
 to meet Guy and his friend. It was with a feel- 
 ing akin to timidity that William Strasmore took 
 a seat in the carriage. Mr. Denesmore was at 
 the depot in person to welcome his son and his 
 son's friend. When William felt the hearty 
 grasp of this honest man's hand and heard the 
 earnest welcome with which he was greeted, he 
 felt that his visit would be no unpleasant intrusion 
 on the family reunion. He found in the father 
 the same kindly, open, manly countenance he 
 had so much admired in the son. His highly 
 sensitive nature would make him feel like an in- 
 truder, in spite of all his efforts to feel com- 
 posed, until Mr. Denesmore's conversation
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2g 
 
 changed his thoughts. When they reached the 
 house, William had only time to gaze for a mo- 
 ment on the beautiful surroundings, when his 
 quick eye caught a glimpse of two smiling faces 
 at the window, which vanished the moment they 
 were discovered, and a moment later Mrs. Denes- 
 more and Pauline appeared hurrying down the 
 white pebbled walk to the carriage to greet the 
 son and brother. 
 
 When their greetings were over, Guy presented 
 his friend, and William fancied,as he bowed to her, 
 that he saw a tint on Pauline's face vying with 
 the pink rose at her throat. Mrs. Denesmore 
 was one of those kind, motherly ladies, who, 
 in her joy at her son's return would not forget 
 his friend. 
 
 ' ' I am glad Guy persuaded you to come with 
 him," she said, holding his hand as he thought 
 his own mother would have done. "We were 
 afraid from the letters he wrote that you would 
 not come ; we shall do all we can to make this a 
 pleasant vacation." 
 
 What could young Strasmore say more than to 
 thank her ? Mrs. Denesmore was at William's 
 side as they walked up the lawn path to the front 
 door, while Pauline tripped along by the side of 
 her brother, and Mr. Denesmore superintended 
 the transfer of their luggage. 
 
 The young travelers were shown to their rooms. 
 To Guy never did the old home seem so delight- 
 ful, while to William it was a veritable paradise.
 
 3O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 As he stood looking from his window on the pio 
 ture, his pleasure manifested itself through the 
 sparkle of his clear blue eye. His was an elegant 
 form, tall and commanding, with limbs and fea- 
 tures well moulded, and an expression which 
 represented a heart in sympathy with mankind. 
 The hair was neither chestnut nor golden, but a 
 brilliant brown, which seemed, as it fell to his 
 cars, to give dignity to his intelligent face. The 
 thin lips were indicative of firmness of purpose 
 and decision of character. He was one of those 
 who could enter into another's joy or sorrow, and 
 make himself agreeable under all circumstances, 
 without swerving from the right. 
 
 After rest and dinner the young people spent 
 the evening in the parlor. Music is usually the 
 choice of young and old, especially when they 
 possess such voices as Pauline, Guy and William. 
 Pauline was an excellent pianist, and after render- 
 ing some instrumental music, they naturally 
 drifted into song. William possessed an excel" 
 lent bass voice, Guy a superb tenor, and Pauline 
 a fine soprano. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Denesmore shared the quiet 
 pleasure of their children. It was so pleasant to 
 have them at home once more. The old house had 
 seemed so lonely when they were away, and now 
 all the life and gayety which had filled it when in 
 childhood their two children romped about the 
 rooms and halls, seemed suddenly restored.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 3! 
 
 But Mrs. Denesmore reflected that they were 
 no longer children. Guy had reached man's 
 estate, and his future was supposed to be mapped 
 out. When his professional studies were over 
 he would marry Maria Day, and settle down in 
 his own town. The mother knew he would be 
 very happy and thought he might well be, for 
 surely it would be a marriage made in Heaven. 
 She had none of those evil thoughts of Maria 
 Day of which she had been accused. Neither 
 Pauline nor her mother had ever entertained a, 
 real harsh thought against the spoiled beauty. 
 
 But would sorrow ever come to the gentle,, 
 trusting Pauline ? the mother asked herself. 
 Surely not ! One so good, so pure and lovely 
 as Pauline should not suffer. She had been so 
 busy with her thoughts as to the future of her 
 children, she had for the time being, lost the 
 song they were singing, but now like an answer 
 to her mental interrogatories, all three voices rang 
 in her ears : 
 
 "I love thee, I love thee, pass under the rod." 
 
 Mrs. Denesmore was too sensible to regard this 
 as an omen, but in after years when storm-tossed 
 and racked by apprehensions of greater evil and 
 miseries in the future, her mind often reverted 
 to that evening and its almost prophetic words : 
 
 "I love thee, I love thee, pass under the rod." 
 
 Her strangely pleasant and yet painful reflec-
 
 32 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 tions were interrupted by her husband saying : 
 * 'That young fellow Strasmore is a fine young 
 man." 
 
 "Yes, he is what a splendid bass voice he 
 has." 
 
 "He has a noble soul, too. I do not blame 
 Guy for forming his friendship, for if I am not 
 very much mistaken he is a young man who will 
 make his mark in the world." 
 
 The songs were finished for the present, and 
 Guy proposed, as the evening was so pleasant, 
 that they take a stroll about the old place which 
 he had not seen for months. William, who 
 amid so much kindness could feel strange no 
 longer, consented, and in a few minutes they 
 were all three walking down the lawn with guileless 
 Pauline between them, talking as merrily to 
 Mr. Strasmore as if they had been the warmest 
 of friends from childhood. They wandered 
 through the grove which was the mocking bird's 
 home, and every tree had it s private history, 
 which Pauline recounted in her charming, child- 
 like manner. Some of those trees were grown 
 hoary with age, and their massive trunks had 
 become gnarled, having a weird appearance in 
 the dull gray twilight. 
 
 Mr. Strasmore was shown the laughing stream- 
 let fed by the spring, and the clear dimpled 
 waters seemed just as shy, just as youthful as 
 when Guy and Pauline were children.
 
 THE SONG. 
 'J love thee, I love fhee, pass under the rod." See page 3J,
 
 THE WORST FOE. 33 
 
 "You see those streets and houses over there" 
 said Guy pointing to where the town had en- 
 croached upon them, hemming in the old home- 
 stead like a beleaguered army, "that used to be 
 our cow pasture. There Spot, Brindle, Rose and 
 Whiteface used to feed, and always waited for 
 Pauline and myself with Carlo to come and drive 
 them home. I can remember how they would 
 come lowing home as if very anxious to get to 
 the milking pen, though they had made no effort to 
 reach it until we had started them. Spot who 
 wore the 'big bell' always went before, clanging 
 it from side to side as she halted to nip the grass 
 by the way. " 
 
 "No cows feed there now," said William. 
 
 "No," and both Guy and Pauline sighed. 
 
 "It speaks of the improvement and advance- 
 ment of the time that they do not, " said William 
 hopefully. 
 
 "Also of the changes of time," answered Pau- 
 line, her sweet voice almost pathetic. "The 
 pasture is gone and so are Spot, Brindle, Rose 
 and Whiteface, and brother and I dug Carlo's 
 grave and watered it with our tears years ago." 
 
 "If you have attended no sadder funer- 
 als than those, Miss Denesmore" said William, 
 "you have been very fortunate." 
 
 ' 'We have been greatly blessed, Mr. Strasmore, 
 and it is silly for us to repine because there is no 
 longer a pasture, or cows for us to drive home, 
 
 (8)
 
 34 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 or a Carlo to romp with us. But in that pasture 
 I had my first adventure," said Pauline. 
 
 "What was it?" asked Mr. Strasmore, hoping 
 she would tell him, because he liked the music 
 of her voice more than any story she might tell. 
 
 ' 'I went alone one evening with Carlo after 
 the cows, and saw the first intoxicated man I 
 ever saw in my life. It was father's hired man, 
 Jack. He was coming down the lane from the 
 village with a wagon, and seeing me he let the 
 team go home just as they pleased, and staggered 
 across the field to where I was driving home the 
 cows, he said to help. He seemed so queer, 
 staggering and reeling as he walked, and his face 
 was so red that he frightened me almost out of 
 my wits ; but good, faithful Carlo would not let 
 him come near me. 
 
 " 'Confound the dog, he's drunk and thinks 
 I am, ' said Jack, when he found that faithful 
 Carlo would not let him approach me. I could 
 not understand what made mother so grave next 
 morning, or why Jack was so ashamed of his 
 conduct. In a short time the act was repeated, 
 and then mother told him of the ruin it would 
 soon bring to his soul as well as body. Poor 
 Jack looked very much mortified as he replied : 
 'I know it, Mrs. Denesmore, and I have tried 
 and tried to quit it, but I cannot ; my father be- 
 fore me was a drunkard, and as long as the 
 temptation is set before me I can't resist it.'
 
 THE WORST FOE. 35 
 
 He went from bad to worse until father dis- 
 charged him, and I remember his words as if 
 they were his dying utterances coming up from 
 the gutter. 'This is all one need expect from a 
 drunkard's son, my father filled a drunkard's 
 grave, and I guess I will follow him sooner or 
 later." 
 
 The moon had risen, giving forth a flood of 
 silver light. As Pauline finished she glanced at 
 William's face and found it very pale. Was he 
 ill, or had something she said strangely affected 
 him. 
 
 Guy who had a happy faculty of changing 
 topics at the right time, now came in with some- 
 thing more entertaining, and strove to engross 
 the attention of both William and Pauline, until 
 their return. But some strange spell seemed to 
 have come over William Strasmore. 
 
 Alone in his room he sat by his bedside and 
 murmured, " 'All that could be expected of a 
 drunkard's son his father filled a drunkard's 
 grave, and he must follow in his footsteps. ' Heav- 
 en forbid ! Am I safe ? No. Oh, why cannot all 
 who know this curse feel as I do ! Eternal vigi- 
 lance is the price of safety to those over whom 
 the curse of an inherited appetite hangs. There 
 is but one hope of safety and that is in the arms 
 of the blessed Master. While the temptation is 
 constantly before men whose morbid appetites 
 crave drink, what more can be expected than 
 that they will fall.
 
 36 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "If all men could see the dangerous precipice 
 on which they stand, we might soon expect the 
 curse of intemperance to be wiped out from our 
 land ; but alas, all all are blind. ' 'I will take 
 care of myself and let others do the same ; I am 
 not my brother's keeper !" is too much the prin- 
 ciple by which this selfish world is controlled. 
 Then again there are many people like the 
 Denesmores, who if they see a fellow-being on 
 the road to ruin, will try to stay his course, or if 
 in the gutter will endeavor to lift him up and 
 make him purer and better, to fit him for use- 
 fulness in this world and for eternity, but they 
 never make an effort to entirely remove the 
 destroying demon from the land. 
 
 " The Christian people and temperance mis- 
 sionaries have worked as a man would who, 
 standing on the bank of a swollen stream, rescuing 
 only an occasional one of the thousands who are 
 floating down the stream before him ; he works 
 hard to save as many as he can, and never looks 
 up-stream to see how these people got into the 
 stream to be drowned. By and by the thought 
 occurs to him, 'Something is wrong. I'll go 
 up along the shore and see how these people get 
 into this river.' He does not proceed far till he 
 finds a man shoving people into the stream. He 
 takes a club and knocks him over, and then the 
 stream is cleared of drowning men. These drown- 
 ing men are the drunkards, and the man who
 
 THE WORST FOE. 37 
 
 throws them in is the saloon keeper, and the club 
 I would strike him with is prohibition. I'd pro- 
 hibit his business. To license it is to license that 
 which leads to the death of thousands ; hence, is 
 only one degree removed from licensing murder. " 
 
 William Strasmore was a pronounced prohibi- 
 tionist. He realized that no one was safe while 
 the deadly monster was alive and roaming at will 
 through the land. He had urged his views so 
 enthusiastically on Guy that he smiled and told 
 him not to become a fanatic. Guy thought he 
 was safe. He had no acquired or inherited ap- 
 petite. It is usually the men with acquired or 
 inherited appetites who make the strongest tem- 
 ance workers. They know their own danger 
 and appeal with all the energy of earnest souls 
 to the world for relief. To you who think you 
 are safe, for the love of humanity do not turn a 
 deaf ear to their appeal. 
 
 Pauline, having noticed the look of ashen hue 
 on the face of her brother's friend, was alone in 
 her room wondering what had caused it. 
 
 "Was it something I said about Jack being 
 drunk ?" she asked herself. "If I was sure I 
 had wounded his feelings I would go and ask his 
 pardon but no, I did not, it is nonsense to think 
 so." 
 
 Some how she felt wretched. To admit the 
 truth, Pauline had grown to like the handsome 
 young stranger just the least bit, and while her
 
 38 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 tender heart would not have given any one pain, 
 she would not have offended Mr. Strasmore for 
 anything. "He surely has pronounced views on 
 the liquor question," she said to herself, "but 
 what are they ?" Her brother must know and 
 on the morrow she would ask him. Accord- 
 ingly, as soon as she was alone with Guy, she 
 asked: "Do you know what Mr. Strasmore's 
 views are in regard to temperance?" 
 
 "He is prohibition to the core, "was the answer ; 
 and Pauline heaved a sigh of relief.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HOME PLEASURES THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 " Go! fair example of untainted youth, 
 Of modest wisdom, and pacified truth, 
 Just of thy word, in every thought sincere, 
 Who knew no wish but what the world might bear." 
 
 ofe. 
 
 TTFHE vacation passed pleasantly to the young 
 -* folks at the Denesmore house. 
 
 There were social gatherings, select parties, 
 picnics, boating and fishing excursions, to en- 
 gage their attention and make the time pass 
 rapidly. In truth, it passed too rapidly, for 
 before they hardly thought the vacation com- 
 menced, it was almost gone. Days had uncon- 
 sciously glided into weeks, and the delightful 
 summer was gone. Three days more and the 
 young men will leave Staunton for college. 
 
 A slight shadow has come over the household 
 as the time of their departure draws near. At 
 breakfast there is a lull in the conversation, 
 and even the usually bright Pauline seems sad 
 and gloomy. The pleasure of planning new 
 excursions and new pastimes is gone, and 
 henceforth the only preparation will be the sad 
 
 39
 
 4O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 one for separation. Guy Denesmore, noticing 
 his sister's dejected manner, said : 
 
 "Well, Pauline, what is the order of the 
 day?" 
 
 "We have an invitation to dine with the 
 Days," she answered with an arch glance at 
 her brother. ' ' I thought that would be the 
 last thing you would forget. Is it possible 
 Maria is so little in your mind, or are you 
 afraid Mr. Strasmore will win her affections 
 from you ? " 
 
 Guy winced and said something abouV girls 
 always forming erroneous conclusions, and finally 
 asked : 
 
 ' ' What are we to do with ourselves until that 
 time?" 
 
 ' ' Dispose of yourselves as will be most agreea- 
 ble to yourselves." 
 
 ' ' I want to have a business talk with you two 
 young men, ' ' said Mr. Denesmore gravely. ' ' We 
 have had considerable pleasure ; now let us have 
 some talk on business." 
 
 William Strasmore was not a little aston- 
 ished, and Pauline with a laugh said : 
 
 " Now, young men, be prepared for some- 
 thing awful. I don't understand it, and don't 
 want to, but you'll hear of margins, dividends, 
 stocks, bonds, mortgages, and all that interests 
 commercial people. I'm not commercial. " 
 
 If William Strasmore was astounded when
 
 THE WORST FOE. 4! 
 
 Mr. Denesmore announced his desire for a 
 ousiness interview with him, he was still more 
 astounded when they arrived at the office of 
 that gentlerrun and he began to question Wil- 
 liam as to hifr future business intentions. 
 
 Stra > >moi'c''$ plans were not matured. He in- 
 tended to <r r >mplete his professional course, and 
 then settle in some thriving Western town and 
 engage in the practice of law. 
 
 "You have chosen no locality, have you?" 
 
 "No, sir, that will be easily enough done after 
 I have completed my studies and have the right 
 to hang out my attorney's shingle." 
 
 ' ' I do not know that you could do better than 
 to locate in Staunton," said the merchant, after 
 a few moment's reflection. " I know one firm of 
 old lawyers who I think would like to inject 
 new life and younger blood into their business, 
 and when your course of studies is complete, if 
 you think such an arrangement would be agreea- 
 ble to you, I will try to secure you a place in the 
 firm." 
 
 "This kindness is very unexpected from a 
 stranger, Mr. Denesmore, and I assure you I 
 shall feel very grateful to you." 
 
 "Do not call me a stranger, William. You 
 are Guy's friend, and whoever is the friend of 
 my son is my own friend. Besides, I propose 
 doing no more than I would want done for my 
 own son under like circumstances. The posi-
 
 42 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 tion you may secure in the firm may not be the 
 most favorable and not as lucrative as you would 
 like ; but you can grow up to a better position, 
 and it will be much better than no start." 
 
 In company with William Strasmore, Mr. 
 Denesmore visited the Shaw Brothers, where 
 the matter was mentioned, and though no plans 
 for the future could be laid, the old lawyers 
 seemed to think, when the proper time came, 
 that business arrangements could be made with 
 Mr. Strasmore. 
 
 Evening came and found William, Pauline and 
 Guy at the Day mansion. Never did Maria Day 
 look more beautiful than when Guy led her to 
 the piano, where she for an hour charmed her 
 audience with her matchless skill. The evil 
 passions and selfishness lurking within the 
 beauty did not come to view in the presence of 
 Guy Denesmore. Her dark eyes sparkled with 
 a brilliancy which seemed to rival the diamonds 
 at her fair throat. She was most exquisitely 
 attired in white tulle over satin, with corsage 
 of satin, and ornaments of diamonds and pearls, 
 and her cheeks flushed with pleasure whea 
 Guy was at her side, as if to rival the rose in 
 her hair. 
 
 The contrast presented to the mind of William 
 Strasmore by the two young ladies was not so 
 much one of outward adornment, for, in taste 
 and skill in dress, Pauline was the equal of the
 
 THE WORST FOE. 43 
 
 elegant Maria Day, but it was in their whole 
 tone and manner. 
 
 Maria's heartless flippancy was in higher 
 favor with the butterflies of fashion, but Paul- 
 ine's moral earnestness and intellectual style of 
 beauty were more enticing to men of brains 
 a beauty of soul that will endure through 
 maidenhood, womanhood, old age and eternity. 
 William Strasmore was a sensible young man, 
 and his mental comparison of the young ladies 
 resulted favorably to Pauline. During the eve- 
 ning they found themselves alone in the elegant 
 conservatory on which Mr. Day prided himself 
 so much. 
 
 They were sitting amid flowering shrubs and 
 gorgeous-hued plants, when Pauline, with just 
 the least tinge of sadness in her voice, said : 
 
 ' ' In less than a week you will be far from 
 here, and amid quite different scenes from this" 
 then added, with a sigh, ' ' I am so glad you 
 and brother will be near each other. You can- 
 not get lonesome." 
 
 " My visit to Staunton has been the happiest 
 period of my life," said William enthusiastically. 
 "Thanks, to your father and his family, seem too 
 commonplace to offer for such enjoyment. " 
 
 ' ' We hope we shall be honored again with 
 your presence in the near future," Pauline 
 returned, after a moment's hesitation, a slight 
 tint coming to her face. At this moment the
 
 44 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 face of Ernest Day might have been seen glar- 
 ing at them from behind a green bower of plants 
 and flowering shrubs. His face was distorted 
 with only such evil passions as jealousy can 
 produce. But he was behind William and Pau- 
 line, and of course was not seen. After glaring 
 for a few moments, like a tiger, he crept away- to 
 nurse his wrath, a complete prey to the green- 
 eyed monster. 
 
 "I have about made arrangements to make 
 Staunton my future home," said William, while 
 the jealous Ernest Day was still gazing at 
 them. " If I do, I hope we will come to know 
 ach other better. In the meanwhile, I have 
 gained your father's permission to ask you for a 
 friendly correspondence while we shall be sepa- 
 rated." 
 
 The blush tints deepened on Pauline's cheeks 
 as she answered : 
 
 ' ' I shall be very glad to hear from you, and 
 will will answer promptly." 
 
 She spoke so candidly and sincerely that she 
 made a far more vivid impression on William 
 Strasmore than if her answer had been the 
 bashful, hesitating response of a coquette. 
 Pauline felt very grateful to her father for 
 interesting himself in her brother's friend. Wil- 
 liam Strasmore's open, manly heart had won the 
 confidence and esteem of the entire family. 
 
 The evening passed pleasantly to all but
 
 THE WORST FOE. 4 
 
 Ernest Day. Finding himself supplanted by 
 this young upstart, as he called the student, he 
 roamed about the house sullen and gloomy, and 
 vvas really glad when the company took their 
 leave. Maria had been too happy with her 
 lover to notice the gloomy discontent of her 
 brother. When she had bowed the last guest 
 out she returned to where Ernest lay on the 
 sofa, silently cursing his fate. 
 
 "What a splendid evening this has been!" 
 she said. 
 
 ' ' Yes, splendid for you you look splendid. " 
 
 "So I have been told." 
 
 "Don't talk to me." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I've had the d 1's own luck." 
 
 "What do you mean ? " asked the sister. 
 
 "Yes, you are so wrapped up in selfishness- 
 you never care how I come on." 
 
 "I don't understand you, Ernest." 
 
 ' ' Always the way. You are so wrapt up in 
 your own affairs you never think of me." 
 
 "I don't understand you," repeated Maria, 
 considerably provoked at the tantalizing manner 
 of her brother. 
 
 "You don't? Don't you know I always 
 thought I had a right to Pauline? and didn't 
 you see that milk-sop, that doughface Stras- 
 more engaging her attention all the time ? " 
 
 ' ' But he leaves soon, and then you will have
 
 46" ~HE WORST FOE. 
 
 the field all to yourself," said Maria encourag- 
 ingly. 
 
 "Yes, but he does not go soon enough." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "He has arranged to keep up a correspond- 
 ence with her all the time he will be absent, and 
 by the time he returns the courtship will be over 
 and betrothal complete." 
 
 ' ' You are out of sorts to-night, brother ; let 
 me send for some wine that always quiets 
 your nerves." 
 
 " Brandy would do better, but as you want 
 wine send for it." 
 
 The wine was brought, and while Maria filled 
 the glasses, she informed her brother that she 
 and Guy were getting along splendidly, and 
 though he would be absent from her, she was 
 to hear from him at least once a week during his 
 absence. 
 
 "Why didn't you offer your guests some of 
 this kind of refreshment, Maria," asked Ernest, 
 holding up his glass of wine to admire the rich 
 color by gaslight. 
 
 ' ' Guy told me not to, and I thought it best to 
 obey his request for the present." 
 
 "That's new, is it not? Though he never 
 indulges, I never knew him to forbid its use 
 before." 
 
 ' ' The chief objection is on Mr. Strasmore's 
 account. Guy says he is so sensitive about the
 
 THE WORST FOE. 47 
 
 use of intoxicating liquors, that he would be 
 offended if they were offered to him in any 
 form." 
 
 "Just like the fool I took him to be. I wish 
 I had known it. I would have offered him 
 brandy instead of wine. " 
 
 ' ' And received a lecture in return ? " 
 
 ' ' Then I would have passed the hat and taken 
 up a collection for him insisted on his starting 
 a camp-meeting, you know." 
 
 ' ' Guy says he talks better on temperance than 
 any lecturer he ever heard." 
 
 ' ' Let him come again, and I will give him 
 abundant opportunity to lecture me." 
 
 " Surely you would not offend Guy, Ernest?" 
 
 " Give me a chance and see. He need not 
 
 let that fellow make such a fool of him as that." 
 
 Ernest Day was in no enviable mood, and 
 
 Maria left him alone and retired to her own 
 
 room to rejoice alone.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE PICNIC. 
 
 " On morning wings how active springs the mind 
 That leaves the load of yesterday behind." 
 
 MARIA could no longer accuse her brother of 
 being negligent in his attentions to Pauline 
 Denesmore. When William and Guy were 
 gone, he became all attention to her, and being 
 genteel and refined when he chose, made him- 
 self quite an agreeable companion. Sin is not 
 always coarse and repulsive, for Satan can mask 
 himself in any guise. Do not think all villains 
 are rough and uncouth ; far from it. They are 
 as apt to appear like gentlemen as like vagabonds. 
 Everybody was astonished to find Ernest 
 Day becoming a regular church-goer. He even 
 became a member of the Sabbath School and 
 took a deep interest in its prosperity. Pauline, 
 as well as others, noticed this great change, and 
 rejoiced at it, as the good always rejoice over 
 the return of a sinner, and openly encouraged 
 him in every possible way she could. Being of 
 a religious temperament, and having had the 
 best religious training, she was always ready to 
 
 48
 
 THE WORST FOE. 49 
 
 welcome any new convert to her Master's cause. 
 Her friendly hand and re-assuring smile had 
 brought more than one timid child into the 
 Sabbath School. There was very little selfish- 
 ness in Pauline's nature, and she seemed the 
 essence of purity. She labored ardently in her 
 Master's cause, and was as nearly perfect as it is 
 possible for the sinful mortals of this world 
 to be. 
 
 ' ' Why cannot all do right for right's sake ? " 
 she frequently inquired of herself. "It is so 
 much more pleasant to do right than wrong, 
 and yet blind, erring mortals will imagine that 
 by doing wrong they can increase the measure 
 of their own happiness." 
 
 Did she stop at that moment to ask herself if 
 Ernest Day's conversion was doing right for 
 right's sake ? Perhaps not, for Pauline was not 
 one to judge another harshly. Her joys and 
 hopes were all centered in enabling others, as 
 far as lay in her power, to come into the full 
 knowledge of the blessed truth and happiness 
 which she enjoyed. 
 
 The Sabbath School decided to give an ex- 
 cursion and picnic for the children at a beautiful 
 grove a few miles down the river. They were 
 to take the train to the steamboat landing, and 
 thence by steamer until they reached the 
 picnic ground, and return in the evening 
 by another boat. What child's cheeks do 
 
 (4)
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 not redden and eyes brighten at the prospect of 
 a picnic ? How welcome the woods in all their 
 beauty, the swings and hammocks, the frolics 
 on the grass or among the mossy trunks of old 
 trees that have stood for ages! Parents, too, 
 renew their youth by joining in these healthful 
 sports with their children. 
 
 Older people seem to find enjoyment in the 
 pleasure they provide for the children, and the 
 toil and hardship of the preparation are for- 
 gotten. A picnic is a pleasure that will live in 
 the memory of childhood long after other events 
 have faded into oblivion. 
 
 Ernest made himself indispensable in the 
 preparations, and during the excursion many 
 wondered why one so useful had always kept 
 himself aloof from such work. He should 
 never fall into the background again if they 
 could help it. 
 
 The long-expected day came, clear and bright. 
 The sky was almost cloudless, only a few fleecy 
 fragments floating amid heaven, forced along by 
 a gentle breeze. The dewdrops sparkled like 
 diamonds on the clover leaves, and flowers 
 were blooming everywhere. Children were all 
 on hand with bright, happy faces, each in full 
 anticipation of a day of happiness. It was so 
 pleasant to get away from the hot, dusty town 
 and spend a day in the delightful, cooling shade. 
 
 The train was crowded with gay, prattling
 
 THE WORST FOE. 5 1 
 
 children, and sped away from the town to the 
 steamboat landing. There a large steamer, the 
 " Belle Knapp," was waiting at the landing for 
 them. The gang-plank was thrown out, and in 
 double file the boys and girls marched aboard 
 after their respective teachers, 
 
 "I have no class to conduct to-day, Pauline," 
 said Ernest, with a smile, which he intended to 
 be amiable; "let me share your duties and 
 anxieties." 
 
 "Of course, Mr. Day, with pleasure." 
 
 He walked aboard at her side, and many 
 thought they made a very handsome couple, 
 as they marched at the head of Pauline's class. 
 
 All were aboard, and the boat, with her 
 precious freight, steamed down the river. 
 Soon the rocks pressed the banks on either 
 side, forming a great stone wall to hold the 
 waters in. The bluffs rose so high they seemed 
 to kiss the heavens, with occasional breaks, 
 where noisy little streams, like children just 
 let out from school, burst forth into the great 
 river. Two of these laughing streamlets came 
 rippling down their narrow channels, gay and 
 joyous, like twin sisters joining hand in hand, 
 babbling and laughing on until they reach 
 the great, silent, majestic river, whose ciy- 
 rent they go to swell. 'Tis so in childhood ; 
 we go laughing on until we reach the majestic
 
 52 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 waters of mature age, and all gayety seems sud- 
 denly to have become silenced by deeper thought 
 or more quiet enjoyment 
 
 Trees could be seen on the crest of the bluff 
 high above them, asserting their right to exist- 
 ence and beauty above the majestic river. 
 They stood so high in the air that their gnarled, 
 knotted trunks seemed but tiny things. Large 
 birds could be seen soaring about them, and on the 
 topmost branches of one an eagle alighted. The 
 children saw the birds, and wondered if their 
 heads did not grow dizzy at such a height 
 But the recollection that cool, inviting shades 
 awaited them farther down the river, drove all 
 else out of their mind. There was no boy ad- 
 venturous enough to wish to scale that cliff. 
 
 Passing beyond those tall walls the river 
 widened, and the bluffs on either side became 
 broken and irregular, forming a mass of rocky 
 hills and deep ravines, sometimes assuming gro- 
 tesque shapes and presenting a picturesque scene. 
 They passed an island where some fishermen had 
 kindled a fire the blue smoke ascending in bil- 
 lows and losing itself in space. The boats of 
 the fishermen could be seen lying on the sand, 
 and the fishermen themselves could be seen sit- 
 ting near the camp-fire, smoking pipes. Further 
 on they came to fields of grain. Some was cut 
 find in the stack, awaiting the threshing machine, 
 and across one field could be heard the din of the
 
 THE WORST FOE. 53 
 
 machine, and the cloud of dust could be seen 
 hovering over the scene, through which could 
 be caught glimpses of the workmen. 
 
 Farther on are neat farm buildings, the farmers 
 busy at work, heedless of the magnificent steamer 
 which ploughs the water in her course. Then 
 farther on the scene changes to green pastures, 
 with sober cows and frolicsome calves and play- 
 ful colts, for whom days of labor had not 
 dawned. The colts became alarmed at the 
 purring monster on the river, and gazing at 
 it a moment in startled terror, wheeled about 
 with snorts of fear, which put the calves to 
 flight, despite the assuring "moo's" of the 
 dams, and scampered over the hill out of sight. 
 
 Pauline gathered the children together, and 
 their sweet voices were soon mingled in songs of 
 praise to Him who gives us all good gifts. 
 
 "Let our hearts be always cheerful 
 Why should sorrow enter there, 
 
 When our kind and loving Father 
 Makes us children of His care. 
 
 Always cheerful, always happy, Sunshine all about we see, 
 Full of beauty our path of duty,Cheerful we should ever be. 
 
 "When we turn aside from duty 
 Comes the pain of doing wrong, 
 
 And a shadow creeping o'er us 
 Checks the rapture of our song." 
 
 Many a rough boatman who had not heard the 
 voices of children in praise for years listened at-
 
 54 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 tentively to the song and heaved a sigh for the 
 days when he was young and sinless as these 
 children. 
 
 The day at the grove was spent as picnics 
 usually are, in innocent open air amusements, 
 and the children were heartily tired when the 
 boat came to take them back up the river. 
 
 All are once more aboard, steaming up the 
 river. The children are running about the deck 
 and the older people are gathered about in groups 
 chatting pleasantly. Ernest Day and Pauline 
 sit apart from the others, and his fine face glows 
 with pride while his low, gentle voice begins to 
 breathe in her ear a story old but ever new. 
 
 A shriek interrupts him and startles every 
 one on board that boat. 
 
 "Oh God, my child my child ! overboard." 
 
 It was an appealing cry answered by the shrieks 
 of hundreds of others, and a rush was made te 
 the steamer's side. Freddie Stevens was dis- 
 covered struggling in the waters, as he was borne 
 down the current.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HUM DID NOT DO THIS ! SOME OF ITS WORK. 
 
 ''But thou, false guardian of a charge so good, 
 Thou mean deserter of thy brother's blood ! 
 See on these ruby lips the trembling breath, 
 Those cheeks now fading at the blast of death." 
 
 Pope. 
 
 LIKE a flash Ernest Day's coat was thrown 
 aside and plunging into the turbid waters he 
 was swimming toward the sinking child before 
 any one could recover from the shock the acci- 
 dent had produced. Every eye aboard that boat 
 w?tched the strong, bold swimmer, and from every 
 heart there ascended a prayer to Heaven. The 
 mother was insensible and her friends were mak- 
 ing fruitless efforts to restore her. 
 
 When the first feeling of horror and consterna- 
 tion had passed, cheer after cheer went up to 
 encourage Ernest Day in his noble effort. He 
 was as brave as a lion, and, although he shared 
 ti*e family selfishness, we find him engaged in a 
 generous act. If the heart of Ernest Day could 
 have been read aright, those beholders who so 
 loudly applauded his bravery, would have read 
 nothing but selfishness there. He rejoiced that 
 
 55
 
 56 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 the accident had given him an opportunity to 
 display his courage and skill before so many 
 people. The newspapers would be full of the 
 rescue, and he would be quite a hero. It might 
 also help him in securing Miss Denesmore's 
 heart and hand. 
 
 Ernest was a strong, bold swimmer and 
 reached the child just as he was going down a 
 second time, and winding one arm about him 
 managed to keep his head above water until a 
 boat, which had been immediately lowered, could 
 pull to them. The great paddle wheels had been 
 stopped and the steamer drove slowly forward 
 from the force of the headway she had gained, 
 which gradually grew less until it floated quietly 
 down the stream. All Ernest had to do was to 
 ride the waves beat up by the ponderous paddles 
 and keep himself and the child afloat until the 
 boat came along side, and they were lifted into 
 it. 
 
 "The child is safe," cried Ernest Day from 
 the boat where he held the dripping form of 
 Freddie Stevens who was rapidly regaining his 
 consciousness. 
 
 A shout a wild cheer went up from the deck 
 of the boat which even aroused the dull senses 
 of that swooning mother. She was told again 
 and again that her child was safe, and beyond a 
 doubt it helped to restore her to consciousness. 
 Rescuer and rescued were lifted to the deck, and
 
 THE WORST FOE. 57 
 
 the child, more frightened than hurt, hastened to 
 his mother. After allowing his well soaked 
 clothes to drip, Ernest donned a coat the cap- 
 tain furnished him and started to find Pauline, to- 
 receive her praise for his courage and skill. At 
 this moment his young brother Mark came up 
 and in his usual impulsive manner said : 
 
 "Ern.,you did nobly, but you may thank Pau- 
 line Denesmore that you didn't have a dram 
 ahead, and drown both yourself and Freddie 
 Stevens." 
 
 "Hush, Mark!" said Ernest, considerably 
 -mbarrassed. 
 
 "Oh, you needn't say hush, I know what I 
 am talking about. You know when father asked 
 you to drink this morning, you refused, for fear 
 the ladies would smell it on your breath. Father 
 said there might be an accident and you would 
 need something to strengthen your nerves ; but 
 you saved Freddie any way and rum did not do 
 it. I wonder what father will think about it; 
 any way rum did not do it." 
 
 ' 'Shut up, you little chatter-box, " cried Ernest 
 Day, feeling inclined to slap his brother, more 
 especially when he discovered that Miss Denes- 
 more had been near enough to hear every word 
 he said. "Miss Denesmore, pay no attention 
 to this boy, he is incorrigible," said Ernest to 
 Pauline, by way of apology. 
 
 "You know it's so, Ern," cried Mark as he
 
 58 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 started away to another part of the boat. "If 
 you had taken one dram you'd a wanted more, 
 and you're such an infernal lubber when yon are 
 full, you'd a gone down certain " 
 
 " Ernest could stand this no longer. He started 
 in pursuit of his mischievous brother, but Mark 
 had quickly disappeared in the crowd, and turn- 
 ing to Pauline, whose face bore a look of mingled 
 pleasure and pain, he said : 
 
 "Pay no attention to what that chattering boy 
 says, Miss Dencsmore you surely know Mark. " 
 
 The congratulations and words of praise Pau- 
 line had for the rescuer of little Freddie Stevens 
 died on her lips. 
 
 When she reached home that evening and had 
 related the incidents of the day, she told what 
 she had heard Mark say to his brother. ' ' M other, 
 can it be possible that any father will urge his son 
 to do a thing which may destroy his soul as well 
 as his body?" 
 
 "It is possible, Pauline. There are whiskey 
 fanatics as well as temperance fanatics. There 
 are strange people in the world, Pauline. Par- 
 ents do encourage their children in wickedness. 
 Mr. Day has been a determined opponent of 
 churches and temperance reforms, and has gone 
 to an opposite extreme, as he says, to keep these 
 fanatics level." 
 
 ' 'What will he think when Mark tells 
 rum did not do this ?"
 
 1HE WORST FOE. 59 
 
 "He will probably say rum did not prevent it, 
 and make Mark take a drink of it to show that 
 the temperance reformer in his household is no 
 better than the others." 
 
 "Oh, mother make Mark drink?" 
 
 "Yes. my dear, perhaps pour it down him, 
 men have done so. Nothing so rejoices the ene- 
 mies of temperance as to see one of those pro- 
 fessing its cause, fall : it proves how impractica- 
 ble temperance is." 
 
 "Such a parent his child should be taken 
 away from him." 
 
 "That is impossible, Pauline. Mr. Day is a 
 wealthy, powerful man, and society and the law 
 uphold him." 
 
 "If Ernest were only free from the evils of in- 
 temperance he would make a noble man, and I 
 shall do all in my power to save him." 
 
 "Do, my dear," said her mother. 
 
 In the meanwhile Mark Day had reached his 
 home, and in his noisy, blustering way burst into 
 the sitting-room where his mother and sister were 
 sitting and began : 
 
 "There's been a regular catastrophe," and 
 throwing his hat on the floor placed himself on 
 the sofa. 
 
 "What was it?" both Maria and his mother 
 asked. 
 
 "Humph! don't you wish you had gone," 
 said Mark in his usual tantalizing way. "Sun-
 
 6O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 day-school picnics are not so bad after all when 
 they kick up such a lively racket as we had to- 
 day." 
 
 "I don't believe it was anything at all," cried 
 Maria petulantly. 
 
 "You don't well, you'd a died if you'd a 
 been there, or fainted any way if some young 
 fellow'd been by to catch you in his arms. You 
 could have had a nice time, for Mr. Smith was 
 along, and he'll soon be looking about for some 
 body to take care of his flock of children for his 
 wife is about dead with consumption." 
 
 "Shut up, Mark." 
 
 "Oh, don't try to shut up a boy when he's just 
 got on a good head of steam, you know a boiler 
 might burst or something happen. Say, Maria, 
 how would you like to be stepmother to half a 
 dozen children." 
 
 "Leave the room you are odious," cried 
 Maria, "you are hateful, you unnerve me." 
 
 "Don't get worried sis, it spoils your beauty. 
 There's crow's feet under your eyes, and I don't 
 know even now whether you can get Smith or 
 not." 
 
 ' 'Mark leave the room until you can behave 
 yourself and say what you have got to say, " said 
 Mrs. Day. 
 
 "All right, mother, it shall not be said that I 
 am a disobedient son ; but as people should retain 
 their worldly possessions, I'll take my hat and
 
 THE WORST FOE. 6 1 
 
 give you and Maria a chance to cool off, then I'll 
 come in and tell you all about it. " Stooping, he 
 took his hat from the floor and went out into the 
 hall, where a moment later he could be heard 
 singing : 
 
 "If invited to drink should I sternly say no, 
 
 Or should I comply to show my good nature ; 
 And if I partake how far should I go, 
 
 How much and how oft must I take of the creature. 
 But whether is rum, gin or brandy the best, 
 
 As each has the spirit to make a boy frisky, 
 And yet all the liquors when put to the test, 
 
 Could never compare with a drop of good whiskey." 
 
 "But whiskey too often produces its fools, 
 
 And sullies the fame of our nation, 
 Drug stores and saloons have been the cursed schools, 
 
 Where villains have finished their vice education. 
 And so after all I'm beginning to think, 
 
 That if we could soberly look at the matter, 
 We'd denounce and protest against drunk making drink, 
 
 And try the effects of pure thirst-quenching water. " 
 
 Having tantalized his mother and sister to hia 
 own satisfaction, for Mark knew ' 'they were dy- 
 ing to know what had happened," he re-entered 
 the room and told them of the accident, how 
 Ernest had rescued the drowning child. 
 
 "Yes, Ern did nobly," said Mark, "I felt 
 proud of him when every body was calling him 
 a hero. But who do you think deserves the 
 praise, he or Pauline?" 
 
 ' 'Pauline ? What did she have to do with res- 
 cuing the child?" asked his mother.
 
 62 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "More'n you suspect, mother. You see, Ern 
 would'nt drink this morning, for fear Pauline 
 would smell his breath, and you know Ern. If 
 he had taken one dram, he'd not stopped short 
 of six, and would have been so stupified that he 
 could' nt have saved Freddie at all. I heard 
 many say there wasn't another man aboard 
 the boat that could have done it. It took all hi& 
 strength and a clear head to prevent there being 
 a first class funeral or two. 'I tell you I was so 
 proud of Ern that I reminded him it wasn't rum 
 that did it." 
 
 "Oh, Mark, you are so foolish," cried Maria, 
 impatiently. "That made no difference. Pau- 
 line keep him from taking his morning dram ? 
 Well, not much, I guess. He did not drink be- 
 cause he did not want to that's all." 
 
 "You can just bet you're mistaken, "said Mark, 
 with a toss of his head and shrug of his shoul- 
 ders. "Ern thinks a sight of Pauline, and while 
 he's pretending to be so pious and all that, to get 
 her, he's not going to let her smell liquor on his 
 breath. He knows his cake will be dough 
 whenever he does that. But there's no use to 
 talk with ma and Maria when their heads are 
 set," and with this philosophical conclusion he 
 donned his hat and once more left the room. 
 
 Ernest Day did not make his appearance at his 
 home that night, but that was nothing unusual 
 for him. His mother would very much have
 
 THE WORST FOE. 63 
 
 liked to see him, for with all her weak selfishness 
 she was proud of her son. She sat up until 
 twelve o'clock waiting for him, and then, as he 
 did not come, she went to bed. 
 
 When Ernest reached the depot on his return, 
 his brain was in a whirl. He went to the house 
 of a friend and changed his clothes for a dry suit 
 which he purchased in the town, and sat down a 
 moment in deep meditation. Oh, Pauline, if 
 you could have read that dark heart on the night 
 you were praising Ernest Day's valor, your sleep 
 would not have been so sweet. It was full of 
 scheming, treachery and danger. 
 
 "I must do it, and I will commence to-night, " 
 he said at last, starting up. "I can put a lock 
 on her mouth and then throw the key away." 
 He hurried out into the street, bent on some 
 mission which boded some one no good. 
 
 A few moments later he was seated in Joe 
 Hammond's restaurant. Opposite him was a 
 youth, a few years his junior. The refreshments 
 Were untasted at their side, and they were en- 
 gaged in an earnest conversation. 
 
 ' 'I tell you, George, there is no need to be a 
 stickler for duty. It's all well enough to look 
 after affairs when your father is incapable of 
 doing it himself. I respect you for the regard 
 you have for your mother and sister ; but it is too 
 much of a sacrifice." 
 
 "Don't talk about this being a sacrifice," said
 
 64 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 George warmly. "Every one in this life has 
 his peculiar duty to perform. By strong en- 
 deavor the most irksome duty may become a 
 pleasure. This is a sacred duty. Were I to 
 forsake my pale-faced, heart-broken mother and 
 throw all this responsibility on my sister 
 Deena, who now has more than she can bear, I 
 would not be worthy the name of son or brother. 
 You once professed to love my sister, now how 
 can you advise such a course. Are you a villain 
 and do you want to ruin us all ?" 
 
 George Hammond spoke hotly and for a mo- 
 ment Ernest Day's face flushed with anger. 
 He sat plucking his moustache while he allowed 
 his passion to cool, then he replied : 
 
 "I would not take such from another, George, 
 but I am a friend of youjs and only have your 
 good in view. I once did love your sister, but 
 as was predicted it only proved a short-lived, 
 boyish passion, While I respect her highly, we 
 are only friends. But you are too talented to 
 remain bound down in a small restaurant acting 
 in your father's place. Prof. Kirke says he se- 
 cured you a desirable position as book-keeper in 
 a wholesale establishment, but you refused it. 
 He was disappointed in his student treating his 
 overtures and offers of kindness with such con- 
 tempt" 
 
 "I ought to have explained matters to the 
 Professor, but that is very difficult to do. To
 
 THE WORST FOE. 65 
 
 you I can talk freely, as you have been here sev- 
 eral times when father was almost unmanageable, 
 and it is not necessary for me to go into details. 
 I must see Prof. Kirke and try to explain mat- 
 ters. I want to set myself right before my 
 friends, and hope circumstances may so change 
 in the future that I may be able to avail myself 
 of their kind offers." 
 
 "No, George, I would not explain it's not 
 necessary. By your judicious management of 
 affairs you can soon rise above all this, and when 
 you have gained the place marked out for you 
 by your friends, they will understand, and ap- 
 preciate you the more because it was done by 
 your own exertions. Proof is better than words. 
 But why can't you attend to your father's affairs 
 here, and at the same time work up some busi- 
 ness of your own ? What are your plans for 
 the future?" 
 
 ' ' We want to get out of debt, and then scrape 
 together enough to go West. There, on a quiet 
 farm, where father will be removed from these 
 temptations, we have hope of his reformation, 
 He will never reform here, where the tempta- 
 tion is constantly before him. Deena can teach 
 Lillie, and if we are fifteen miles from our near- 
 est neighbor, and seventy-five miles from a town, 
 it will be that much the better." 
 
 "Your plan is a good one, George, and I hope 
 
 (6)
 
 66 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 it may work. But, .come you have a few idle 
 moments let us take a stroll." 
 
 George Hammond consented. Better, far bet- 
 ter, would it have been to have taken a stroll in 
 the jungle, with a hungry tiger for his companion. 
 Oh, will not some pitying angel whisper a word 
 of warning to this unfortunate youth ? Are you 
 blind, George Hammond, that you do not see the 
 look of fiendish triumph in Ernest Day's eyes as 
 he leads you forth into the streets ? The lamps 
 light up the street below, and the moon throws 
 a silver sheen on the roofs above them. George 
 Hammond felt a restless longing at his heart for 
 something higher, better and different. His con- 
 science has never yet had occasion to upbraid 
 him. It is a very tender conscience not more 
 calloused than an infant's hand, but goaded to 
 madness it will rise and sit in condemning judg- 
 ment over him. 
 
 During the long walk, the oily tongue of the wily 
 schemer was gradually overcoming the scruples of 
 his victim, and paving the way for his ruin. At 
 length, they came to a halt in front of a brilliantly- 
 lighted saloon. The soft strains of music came from 
 within, and it was an easy matter to entice the 
 youth to enter, just to see what was going on. 
 Only the better classes were to be found here 
 it was one of those places where the devil pre- 
 pares his kindling wood. Many people are in 
 favor of a temperance law that will close up the 
 "low dives" the haunts of the abandoned
 
 THE WORST FOE. O? 
 
 drunkards. It would be much better, if only one 
 class of drinking places is to be prohibited, to 
 strike out those gilded places where young men 
 begin to drink in a respectable (?) way, and 
 there form an appetite that soon passes them 
 along down the line, to less and still less respec- 
 table places, till they reach the lowest outpost 
 of satan. 
 
 The two young men sauntered, arm in arm, 
 down the brilliant, gilded hall, stopping a mo- 
 ment here and there to watch a game of bil- 
 liards, or cards. All the while Ernest kept up 
 a lively conversation, in an off-hand manner, with 
 the many acquaintances he met, frequently pre- 
 senting his friend, "Mr. Hammond." 
 
 This small flattery began to tell on George 
 Hammond, and before he hardly knew it, he 
 was seated at a table, drinking champagne and 
 playing cards. He was flattered to be among 
 aristocratic people, and even ventured to put 
 up money, in a small way, to be equal with the 
 others. He won, and elated with success, he 
 drank more, and doubled stakes, and won each 
 time. Dawn was just appearing in the east 
 when they emerged from that gilded hell. 
 
 ' ' Be sure and meet me here again to-night, 
 George," said Ernest anxiously. "I want you 
 to give me an opportunity to win a part of this 
 back." George promised, and turned his steps 
 homeward, his brain in a whirl, and the whis-
 
 68 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 pered words of satan's flattery in his ears. 
 "You won, George," the demon said. "You 
 are shrewder than the shrewdest; now go in, 
 win more, get rich and live a merry life. " 
 
 Ernest Day, perfectly sober, was walking in a 
 different direction. His scheming mind was busy, 
 and he was congratulating himself on his success. 
 He drew his coat close about him, for the morn 
 ing air was chilly, and began to soliloquize : 
 
 *'So, George Hammond, you have been gam- 
 bling. I wonder how your mother would like 
 the expression, ' You are pinned to your mother 
 no longer, but a fast young man of the world. ' I 
 despise such a fool as George Hammond, and 
 such a fogy as Strasmore. I will make a cat's 
 paw of the one, and the other may yet learn 
 what it is to cross my path." 
 
 There was a look at that moment on the face 
 of Ernest Day which would have frightened a. 
 timid person.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ONLY ELEVEN MONTHS. 
 
 "Vice is a monster of o frightful mien 
 As, to hi hated, needs but to be seen ; 
 Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
 We first endure, then pity, then embrace." 
 
 Pope. 
 
 ( TTIND your business. I'll go where I please, 
 J "* and do just as I please hie. Guess I'm a 
 free man ain't I ?" 
 
 One could plainly see that the speaker was 
 traveling at a break neck speed down the road to 
 ruin. This is the wreck of the bright young 
 man whom we saw, only eleven months ago. strug- 
 gling, though vainly, with the tempter. Ernest 
 Day's plan has succeeded well. Mark the change. 
 The dark blue eyes are heavy, dull and blood- 
 shot, the face red and bloated, and alcohol is 
 cooking the brain. He wears a slouched hat and 
 his person is neglected; his clothes are in tatters 
 and he has the manner and airs of a vagabond 
 about him. His weeping sister, between sobs, 
 said: 
 
 "Oh! George brother why do you continue 
 this downward course ? Don't you see what the 
 
 60
 
 7O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 end must be ? Why can't you spend your even- 
 ings with us as you used to do. Our sorrow 
 then was really very light compared with the 
 present, for we had you to help us bear our 
 burden." 
 
 "If there's anything I hate, it's a whining wo- 
 man," said the inebriate youth. 
 
 For a moment Deena Hammond sobbed in 
 silence and then said: "George, I do not be- 
 lieve it is you who abuse me, your heart is too 
 good, too kind and gentle. It is the evil spirit 
 which has entered in the form of alcohol. But 
 promise me, brother, that you will stay with us 
 to-night?" 
 
 "Mother's calling you, Deena." 
 
 "I cannot go, George, until you promise me 
 not to leave to-night. If you had stayed with us 
 on that fatal night, how much misery might have 
 been spared us." 
 
 She stopped and he sat mute, and silently 
 gazed on the floor. The feeble voice of her 
 mother was again heard calling : 
 
 "Deena Deena, please come ! " 
 
 "Yes, mother, promise me, George. " 
 
 "Promise what? " he demanded savagely. 
 
 "That you will be here when I come back, and 
 that you will stay with us to-night." 
 
 "Yes, I'll stay with you to-night, " he answered 
 desperately, evidently anxious to get rid of his 
 sister.
 
 THE WORST FOE. /I 
 
 Modenia, fixing her once bright, beautiful eye 
 on the brother whom she still loved, despite his 
 degradation and fallen condition, said : 
 
 ' 'Oh, George, you will not tell me a falsehood 
 will you? You will not deceive me? " 
 
 "D'ye think I've turned out to regular lyin' ? " 
 he asked in an angry manner. 
 
 Modenia feared to rouse the slumbering pas- 
 sions within his breast, and so said no more to 
 him , but left the room. Alas ! she had not 
 realized that while the fiend alcohol can breed 
 murder within the human heart, it can also trans- 
 form the honest, truthful youth to a reckless liar. 
 The mother's wants were soon supplied, and 
 Modenia hastened back to where she had left 
 her brother, to find the room vacant. She ran 
 to the door and looked up and down the street, 
 hoping to see her brother that she might run, call 
 him back, and persuade him again to pass one 
 night at home, away from the temptations that 
 were plunging him into the abyss of ruin, but 
 George could nowhere be seen. Wringing her 
 hands in silent despair, this once beautiful girl 
 sank down sorrowfully into a chair. She dared 
 make no outcry, much as her natural impulse in- 
 clined her to do so. Her mother was very ill, 
 and dared not add more to her grief. The 
 bright eye was dulled with sorrow, the dimpled 
 cheek pale and careworn. Will these dark clouds 
 ever clear away, and will the sunlight of peace
 
 72 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 and happiness ever beam forth again on her dark 
 life? 
 
 While sitting bowed down with sorrow and 
 shame, she was roused by a knock at the door. 
 She started up and opened it. A small boy was 
 there holding a sealed note in his hand. 
 
 "Is this Miss Hammond ? " he asked. 
 
 "It is," was her answer. 
 
 "Mr. Day sent this and told me to wait for an 
 answer," and he handed her the sealed note. 
 With trembling hand she took the envelope, 
 broke the seal and glanced at the contents. It 
 was so brief that a single glance sufficed. 
 
 "DEENA 
 
 I have something important to communi- 
 cate. When and where can I see you? 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 E. D." 
 
 With a pencil she wrote at the bottom of the 
 page: 
 
 "At home. Come now. 
 
 D. H." 
 
 She folded this and gave it to the boy to return, 
 and trembling with some terrible apprehension at 
 her heart, she went into the faded little parlor to 
 await the arrival of Ernest Day. She had not 
 long to wait. His familiar rap which used to 
 send a thrill of gladness to her heart, was heard 
 at the door, and trembling and shuddering vio- 
 lently she admitted him. When Ernest Day
 
 THE WORST FOE. 73 
 
 gazed upon that faded, blighted beauty, some- 
 thing like pity came to his hardened heart and 
 he said : 
 
 "I am very sorry for you, Deena, and especially 
 as what I have to say will increase rather than 
 diminish your burden." 
 
 "What have you to say?" she asked, fixing 
 her large, tearful eyes upon him. 
 
 Seating himself, and pressing his hand to his 
 temple, as though he felt a pain there, he finally 
 stammered : 
 
 ' ' Your brother he has forged a note on 
 me." 
 
 Modenia Hammond started up, and for a mo- 
 ment clung to the back of her chair for support. 
 Could it be that her brother, whose honor had 
 always been the pride of the family, had been 
 guilty of a crime? But she remembered that 
 the demon that had stolen away his sympathy 
 and truthfulness, might have also taken his 
 honor. Yet, knowing Ernest Day only as the 
 destroyer of her happiness, she replied : 
 
 " I do not believe it. I will not believe it 
 until I have better evidence than Ernest Day's 
 word." 
 
 "All right, Mtss Hammond, I am equal to the 
 emergency." He then told her what had first 
 led him to suspect George that he had em- 
 ployed a detective, who was to be silent until 
 he told him to make the charge. He then ex-
 
 74 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 hibited papers corroborative of his accusation. 
 
 " Where is the detective?" asked Deena. 
 
 ' ' If you wish to see him you can have that 
 pleasure, for he is not far away." 
 
 " I want to see him." 
 
 He left her, saying he would return in a few 
 moments, but it seemed an age before his hand 
 turned the door knob, and he ushered in a 
 stranger, wearing a detective's star on the lapel 
 of his coat. 
 
 The detective was very considerate of her 
 feelings in telling his story of her brother's 
 disgrace, but every incident connected with the 
 forgery was fully explained. He concluded with : 
 4 ' For the sake of his family Mr. Day does not 
 want the misguided youth exposed. He says 
 he can mete out a better punishment for him, 
 and save the family the disgrace of a criminal 
 prosecution." 
 
 The detective left them, and then Deena, 
 turning to Ernest Day, said : 
 
 " It was for my sake you purchased the offi- 
 cer's silence. You think you can mete out a 
 better punishment and save poor George and 
 ourselves the disgrace of a criminal prosecution. 
 If you are so thoughtful, why not have accom- 
 plished all this without coming to me at all?" 
 
 ' ' I am only willing to keep silent on certain 
 conditions, " he answered in an undertone. 
 
 "What are they?"
 
 THE WORST FOE. 75 
 
 " Your own silence," he hissed between his set 
 teeth, while the light of demons gleamed from 
 his eyes. For a moment she was silent, and 
 mustering up all her strength to meet his fiery 
 determination, she said : 
 
 " While mother lives I will, for her sake, keep 
 silent, but should I outlive her, I swear " 
 
 "Stop, Deena," he cried, coming so close to 
 her that she felt his hot, angry breath on her 
 cheek. ' ' Promise me to keep silent now and 
 forever on that subject, or before to-morrow's 
 sun shall set your brother will be in the iron 
 grasp of the law, and then nothing can keep 
 him from the penitentiary. Your solemn 
 promise given now will save your brother and 
 your family this blow, which would certainly 
 result fatally on your sick mother. Now if you 
 were to make matters public you could effect 
 nothing, for I intend doing what I proposed, 
 and I think you are sensible enough to under- 
 stand that this is the only reasonable way out 
 for us." 
 
 " You were the first who lead George astray," 
 she returned, slowly and thoughtfully. ' ' Now, 
 I shall exact a promise of you never to come 
 near my brother again ; never darken this 
 threshold, but leave us alone to our misery." 
 
 "There is no honor in being the companion 
 of George Hammond, and I gladly shake him 
 off."
 
 76 THE WORST FOK. 
 
 "Then I give you my promise of silence, >v 
 she said reluctantly. 
 
 " Now and forever ? " 
 
 " Now and forever," she repeated. 
 
 ' ' I believe you will keep your word, Deena ; 
 now let us part as friends," said Ernest Day, 
 extending his hand toward her. 
 
 She raised her reproachful eyes to his face and 
 said : ' ' Do you think I can endorse your vil- 
 lainy and give you the hand of friendship ? No, 
 sir ! sooner would I touch a deadly serpent than 
 your hand. Go now, and remember to insure 
 my silence you must faithfully perform your 
 part. Never speak with George or darken this 
 door." 
 
 " Good-bye, Deena. I wish you felt differ- 
 ently toward me. Time will prove that I am 
 right." 
 
 He was gone, and Deena Hammond felt that 
 the last tie which bound her to earthly happi- 
 ness was snapped. Burying her face in her 
 hands she sobbed convulsively. A few months 
 previous she would have found solace from her 
 woes by appealing to her Heavenly Father for 
 aid ; but now all the fountains of Christian faith 
 and hope were dried up, and she could not pray 
 to a God whose very existence she doubted. 
 The future was so dark, with nothing to hope for. 
 An invalid mother, a drunken father and brother, 
 and a young sister being reared in the worst
 
 THE WORST FOE. 77 
 
 cesspool of iniquity in the whole city, made her 
 cares more than she could bear. For months 
 there had not been a ray of light. The night 
 brought no refreshing sleep, and dawn failed to 
 leave the toil of yesterday behind. Her load 
 constantly increased. She had the cares of the 
 present and past upon her. 
 
 Hour after hour she sat there in a painful rev- 
 erie, and the midnight hour drew near. A weak, 
 tottering step was heard, and she started up, to 
 see her invalid mother in the door. 
 
 " Deena ! why are you not in bed, my dear?" 
 she asked anxiously ; " are you sick ? " 
 
 "No, mother, I am well." 
 
 " I awoke, called you, and you did not answer; 
 then I went to your bed, and it was untouched. 
 The gas was burning out here, and I came to see 
 why it was not turned off, and found you sitting 
 alone. I have been waiting so long, too, for 
 your father, Deena ; why don't he come?" 
 
 " I cannot answer that, mother, but I would 
 like some one to tell me why we are so cursed 
 as to be eternally wretched. George has be- 
 come a sot, as well as father, and if we were all 
 dead it would be better. " 
 
 ' ' Oh, Deena, do not talk that way, child. 
 God has some purpose in having us live." 
 
 "I do not believe there is a God, mother," 
 cried the girl almost fiercely. " If there is, He 
 must be a cruel master. What have we done
 
 78 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 that He should make us the sport of fiendish 
 caprice? " 
 
 " Oh, Deena ! Deena ! do hush. I can't bear 
 to have you talk so. This is only a trial, dear, 
 that we may be all the brighter when we do 
 come forth. Think of Job and take courage. 
 Intemperance is one of our greatest evils, but 
 heaven forbid that it should upset our faith and 
 ruin the chances of future blessings." 
 
 " But oh, think of George, mother," cried the 
 poor girl, wringing her hands in agony. , " Only 
 eleven months ago he was our main prop and 
 stay our hope, our all ; and we thought if any 
 one was on the sure foundation it was our own 
 beloved George. Since he has become ensnared 
 in the toils of the tempter, who is safe ? " 
 
 " No one is safe while the unholy traffic is per- 
 mitted. All are subjected to the temptation while 
 these earthly hells are permitted to run in full 
 blast in our land." 
 
 ' ' Yet how many will hug the worst foe to 
 their breasts and talk of liberty to do as they 
 please, and let friends, bright prospects, a life 
 of usefulness and happiness go, taking in their 
 stead sin, shame and misery?" 
 
 ' ' There will be an end to this some day, 
 Deena," said Mrs. Hammond, with a hopeful 
 sigh. " I still have hope that intemperance 
 will be swept from the land. It may require 
 many more martyrs like ourselves, but humanity
 
 THE WORST FOE. 79 
 
 will in course of time revolt against the outrages 
 and tyranny of king alcohol, and the voters will 
 rise up in their might and put it down forever. 
 It may not come in time to benefit us, for there 
 must be many sacrifices before the nation will 
 be roused to the reality of its danger. What, 
 then, if we are made martyrs ? Humanity will, 
 in the end, be benefitted by it." 
 
 The slamming of a door at this moment put 
 an end to their conversation. Was it the hus- 
 band and father, or son and brother. Both 
 asked the same question in a breath. It was 
 George. He came into the room, his crushed 
 hat well on the back of his head, his hair down 
 on his forehead, and with a drunken giggle, as 
 he staggered from side to side, began : 
 
 "He, he, he, Deena, kept my word, didn't 
 I? hie, I told the boys I must come back, 
 cos I'd promised hie my sister that I was 
 goin* to stay at home he, he, he. Always 
 keep my word, don't hie care what happens, 
 don't I Deena ? " 
 
 He went on for some time in his drunken, 
 idiotic manner, when his sister and mother 
 finally got him to bed, where he almost imme- 
 diately fell into a heavy, drunken slumber. 
 Having disposed of the wreck of a few months, 
 the invalid and her daughter sat down to wait for 
 the wreck of years.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 REJECTED. 
 
 " Of all the causes which conspire to blind 
 
 Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind, 
 What the weak head with strongest bias rules, 
 
 Is PRIDE, the never-failing vice of fools." 
 
 Pepe. 
 
 r lacked but a month until Guy Denesmore 
 and his friend William would return to Staun- 
 ton. Pauline was counting the days, which 
 seemed to drag by, so anxious had she grown. 
 If one had asked her whose return would give 
 her most pleasure, Guy's or Mr. Strasmore's, 
 she of course would have answered that she was 
 most eager to see her brother. Perhaps she 
 thought she was, for her deceitful little heart 
 would never admit, even to herself, how dear 
 her brother's friend had become to her. 
 
 Mr. Denesmore was reading his evening paper 
 and Pauline was engaged in some light needle- 
 work when the door-bell rang. She was about 
 to answer it herself v/hen she heard the footsteps 
 of a servant girl going toward the door. She 
 had almost forgotten the caller, so absorbed was 
 she in her own thoughts, when the door opened 
 
 80
 
 THE WORST FOE. 8 1 
 
 and the servant girl said Mr. Day was in the par- 
 lor waiting to see Miss Pauline. 
 
 Mr. Denesmore raised his eyes from the paper 
 he was reading, glanced at Pauline through his 
 glasses, and ascertaining who the visitor was, 
 again resumed his reading. Pauline, supposing 
 that Ernest Day had merely called in regard to 
 some Sunday School arrangements was really glad 
 to hear his arrival announced. 
 
 She found him more amiable than usual on 
 this occasion, and he held her hand much longer 
 than propriety or friendship required. They 
 were soon sitting close together but by no means 
 like lovers, chatting quite pleasantly. At times 
 Pauline felt a repugnance to him and was half 
 inclined to run away, but she summoned up all 
 her courage and made herself as agreeable as 
 she could. Ernest Day had reformed ! Such 
 was the rumor that went about over town. He 
 had given up the social glass and all the wild and 
 reckless pleasures, so called, which flow from it. 
 Rumor also said that Pauline Denesmore had 
 snatched him from destruction, and though she 
 tried hard to give God the praise, she felt within 
 her heart a little pride that she had been enabled 
 to effect so much good. 
 
 The conversation was on Sunday schools, 
 churches and societies, and in fact everything 
 save that which bore most heavily on their minds. 
 
 (6)
 
 82 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 The evening was delightful and Ernest proposed 
 a stroll about the grounds. 
 
 "Your grounds are so delightful," said Ernest 
 Day as they strolled forth from the house, Pau- 
 line's hand resting lightly on his arm. ' 'I am 
 always delighted to walk about in them." 
 
 ' 'I could not endure a house without trees and 
 brooks," said Pauline. "A great bare house 
 with all it's pomp and splendor and nothing of 
 God's handiwork is an unpleasant sight to me." 
 
 "Your tastes are exactly my own, Pauline. 
 Father and Maria want nothing better than a 
 costly mansion up town, where buildings are so 
 thick, a blade of grass cannot find space to grow ; 
 but give me shady trees, waving meadows and 
 running water every time." 
 
 They came to a rustic seat within the generous 
 glow of the moonlight, and were soon seated. 
 It would have been apparent to a close observer 
 that Ernest Day was laboring under some em- 
 barrassment. On his cheeks came and went a 
 scarlet hue, and at times he was thoughtful and 
 absent minded ; but Pauline's mind was so com- 
 pletely absorbed with the return of her brother 
 and William Strasmore that she paid little atten- 
 tion to her companion, no more than courtesy 
 demanded she should. 
 
 "Pauline," he at last said in such a husky, des- 
 perate voice that it startled her. There was an 
 unintended fierceness about the sound which was
 
 THE WORST FOE. 83 
 
 startling. Pauline trembled, she knew not why, 
 but the very manner of the man portended evil. 
 Ernest Day seemed to completely choke up for 
 a few moments and then he began again : "Pau- 
 line, I have something to tell you and must speak 
 of it now while I can. Don't think I am mad 
 or out of my mind, for if I am it is but natural, 
 perhaps, under these circumstances. I want 
 you to believe me in earnest, for as Heaven is 
 my witness I am. I love you, Pauline, and have 
 ever since you were a child. I have been a wild 
 boy, I know, but I have reformed, and with you 
 as my companion throughout life, there would 
 never be any danger of my feet slipping again. 
 I love you devotedly, Pauline ; will you oh, will 
 you become my wife ?" 
 
 Pauline sat mute and silent. Again and again 
 had she tried to stop him before he said so much, 
 but without avail. So unexpected was the dec- 
 laration that her tongue seemed paralyzed. He 
 waited patiently for her to speak, and she rose 
 trembling to her feet. Ernest Day was sure he 
 never saw a more beautiful picture than the love- 
 ly girl standing before him in the moonlight. 
 After several minutes of silence, she began : 
 
 "Ernest Day, I am very sorry you have said 
 so much. I assure you, it was so unexpected 
 to me that I could hardly speak until now. I 
 have always been a friend to you, and always 
 will remain your friend, but I cannot be more ;
 
 84 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 it is useless for me to attempt to be more. I 
 have watched you for the last twelve months and 
 have rejoiced that your course of life is changed 
 for the better. I have the highest regard for 
 you but I can never be your wife I do not love 
 you as a wife should." 
 
 "You could in time learn to love me, Pau- 
 line." 
 
 "No, it's useless " 
 
 "Oh, for Heaven's sake, Pauline, do not cast 
 me aside without one ray of hope; you will 
 blacken my existence." 
 
 "No no, Ernest, don't say anything more 
 about it, please don't!" cried the tender-hearted 
 girl, ' 'you will come to think of this differently, 
 after awhile, and admit I was right. Find some 
 other woman more suited and more worthy of 
 yourself than I." 
 
 "There are none," he earnestly declared. 
 
 "Oh, yes, there are many. I am sorry you 
 think as you do, but time, the healer of all 
 wounds and the righter of all wrongs, will prove 
 to you that I am right." 
 
 In vain were all his pleadings, even though he 
 went down on his knees. She upbraided him 
 for such folly and insisted that she must go to 
 the house. When they came to part she ex- 
 tended her hand and said : 
 
 "Ernest, let us part as friends. I pity you 
 more than you think, and I regret that this must
 
 THE WORST FOE. 85 
 
 be as it is. I can be a very dear friend to you, 
 but nothing more." 
 
 He tried to smile and appear unconcerned, 
 but there was such a lurking devil in each eye 
 that she shuddered and was glad when he was 
 gone. She hastened to her room, and after a 
 few moments painful thought about Ernest Day, 
 fell to dreaming bright dreams in which William 
 Strasmore was the central figure. 
 
 Ernest Day was, in the meanwhile, walking 
 slowly down the street, his brow contracted with 
 anger, and his scheming brain evolving desperate 
 plans. He had not given up Pauline yet.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ESTABLISHED. 
 
 Offspring of Heaven and esrth, and all earth's Lord, 
 That such an enemy we have who seeks our ruin, 
 For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperse 
 The tempted with dishonor foul supposed, 
 Not incorruptible of faith, not proof against temptation. 
 
 Milto*. 
 
 1J year and a half has come and gone, since 
 / -1 Dr. Guy Denesmore established himself in 
 the practice of his profession in his native town. 
 His success has been greater than is usually th& 
 lot of young men just entering upon a profess- 
 ional career. His friend and college chum, Wil- 
 liam Strasmore, has also launched into his legal 
 calling with bright prospects for the future. 
 
 The elder Denesmores are gliding smoothly 
 down the stream of time, and not a troubled 
 wave has yet risen to disturb the tranquility of 
 their voyage, or shadow darkened their sky. 
 Their children, the usual object of parental solic- 
 itude, have proven all their hearts could wish. 
 The past has been so sweet that the future holds 
 only bright promises for them. Little did they 
 dream how dark that future would be. We can 
 thank Heaven that the veil conceals the future.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 8/ 
 
 How much pain and sorrow we escape by not 
 being able to rend the veil. 
 
 Pauline Denesmore had almost forgotten the 
 proposal of Ernest Day. The matter had never 
 become known outside the Denesmore family. 
 Ernest Day had gone back to his old habits and 
 no longer refused the social glass. He was seen 
 no more at church or Sabbath School, and those 
 who had predicted that the reformation of the 
 skeptic's son would be short-lived, now shook 
 their heads knowingly and said : 
 
 "I told you so." 
 
 The Denesmores were still enthusiastic in 
 doing the good work which came within 
 their reach, but never thought of searching the 
 highways for more important work. Not so with 
 William Strasmore. He realized that life was 
 real and earnest, and could not be appreciated or 
 enjoyed without doing the divine will of the 
 Master. He never forgot the command, to go 
 into the hedges and by-ways and call people to 
 God. He saw that in the midst of life we were 
 in death. He had watched with trembling, the 
 constant and increasing strength of ' ' The Wotst 
 Foe. " He saw such a mass of humanity sailing 
 on the sea of intemperance, many of them irre- 
 sponsible beings struggling and calling for aid, 
 that his soul was stirred within him. He re- 
 membered thai father who had implored aid from 
 the public and who had been treated with silent
 
 88 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 contempt by the voters. There were all about 
 him, and, dear reader, there are all about us to- 
 day, thousands of unfortunate people who have 
 inherited or acquired appetites for alcoholic stim- 
 ulants which they can never overcome while the 
 temptation glares at them from every corner of 
 the street. They are always on the brink, on 
 shifting sand, and, as their feet slip from under 
 them they turn their hollow eyes upon us, and, 
 in humanity's name, implore us for aid. But the 
 voter shrugs his shoulders, casts his ballot, and 
 prides himself on being safe and no fanatic either. 
 William Strasmore realized, that while the evil 
 of intemperance prevailed, all good efforts were 
 only half blessed. He had once thought of 
 subduing the evil, but observation had convinced 
 him that such an evil was not safe even in a sub- 
 dued state. The only way to be free was to 
 stamp out the evil altogether ; this could only be 
 done by uniting the strong and the good against it. 
 He sat in his office thinking on the one great 
 question which had almost completely taken 
 possession of his being. He opened his desk 
 and from a drawer took out a letter yellow with 
 age. It was a very sacred document to him. 
 No one save himself and the writer knew its 
 contents, but on this evening he intended to 
 place it in the hands of Pauline Denesmore, his 
 betrothed, for her to read. It contained a fam- 
 ily secret, but it had always been and ever would 
 be his safeguard against temptation.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 89 
 
 William was somewhat sad and downcast when 
 he came to the home of his betrothed. But 
 Pauline was bright and cheerful and made amends 
 for his low spiritedness, and accounted for her 
 lover's ennui by saying to herself that he had 
 overworked himself. When they were quite to 
 themselves in the pleasant old parlor, he took 
 the time-stained letter from the breast pocket of 
 his coat and said : 
 
 " Read that, Pauline; it will explain itself." 
 
 She unfolded the pages and read : 
 
 "WILLIAM, MY DARLING BOY: 
 
 ' ' Nature and my failing senses tell me that before 
 long I shall leave you, my precious child- it may- 
 be to a long life in this world, so full of temptation. 
 I yearn to take you with me to that world where sin 
 cannot enter and night never comes ; but it may be 
 the will of our Heavenly Father that you remain 
 behind to do some good work. Better so, if you 
 can only be sufficiently forewarned against what I 
 fear will be your greatest danger. Others would 
 shrink from telling you what is so necessary for you 
 to know early in life. Your father was a drunkard. 
 If I could have remained with you, the pain of this 
 knowledge would have been spared you, my precious 
 child; but without the watchful care of one whom 
 nature has ordained should love you best, you may 
 not be warned of this inherited appetite until it is 
 loo late. Your father must be dead, as I have not 
 heard of him since three months before your birth. 
 He took his social glass before we were married, but
 
 90 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 I always thought him strong enough to resist the 
 temptation, if it should ever become a temptation. 
 The habit grew on him until it was uncontrollable. 
 We were both orphans, and to our own knowledge 
 had no relations in America. Your father had a 
 good position in a wholesale establishment, and I 
 was teaching school at the time we were married. 
 We lived very happily, for my husband was kind, 
 and though he drank occasionally, I never dreamed 
 that he would become an inebriate. When our 
 baby, Minnie, was born I hoped she would induce 
 him to break off the habit, which I discovered was 
 gradually growing on him. But though he did 
 make an effort to desist, it was only temporary. 
 His old habit had gained too strong a hold upon 
 him, and he tired of home, wife and child, and 
 preferred the saloon and rum holes. Our baby 
 only lived two years, and the angels called her 
 home. Though I tried to turn his eyes toward the 
 Pearly Gates which she had entered, it was all in 
 vain. He kept going from bad to worse, until he 
 lost his position, and then the misery of the months 
 which followed is beyond description. I saw my 
 husband going rapidly down the road to ruin, while 
 I was powerless to save him. He tried to reform. 
 Oh! he made such noble efforts to escape the 
 demons, but the law permitted the monsters to 
 stand on every corner of the street, ready to seize 
 him. He could not go about his daily work with- 
 out having the temptation flaunted in his face. At 
 last I was forsaken he had slipped away as com- 
 pletely as if he had gone to another sphere. I was
 
 THE WORST FOE. 9! 
 
 unable to pay the rent, and gave up our little cot- 
 tage. I was in a despondent state, when the lady 
 with whom I had lived before my marriage found 
 me and took me home with her. 
 
 ' Eight weeks after, you were born. When you 
 were quite young I was stricken with a fever, from 
 which I have never fully recovered. Before I was 
 strong I secured a school several miles distant, 
 against the wishes and advice of my friends, and 
 taught nine long months, though my health seemed 
 failing all the time. I saw the name of Strasmore 
 mentioned in a paper published in a city a hundred 
 and fifty miles away, and hoping it might be your 
 father, I set out for the city. But when I reached 
 the city I could not find my husband, though I 
 inquired at all the prisons, at police headquarters, 
 and hospitals. My money gave out, and I was 
 forced to travel on foot, and beg my way to this 
 district, where I secured the school and a temporary 
 home with Mr. Johns, who has been so kind to me. 
 I worked ardently at my school, but consumption 
 had seized on my lungs, and after two months I was 
 prostrated on this bed, from which I shall never rise. 
 My dear Willie, you will have to go through the world 
 alone, and your pathway will not be an easy one, but 
 hearken to the voice of your dying mother : be not 
 tempted with strong drink. It blighted the lives of 
 your parents, and may likewise prove your ruin if 
 you touch it. Blame not your father, but rather 
 pity his weakness, and hate the monster that de- 
 stroyed him. Touch not, taste not, and handle not. 
 Avenge your father's death by making war on the
 
 92 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 traffic and never cease to work until the curse 
 is entirely banished. Be not satisfied with 
 
 your own safety, but labor for the safety of others, 
 and though you are called a fanatic, remember that 
 it is your duty to fight the monster which brings the 
 chief misery to mankind. Consecrate yourself to the 
 temperance cause, my son; make'it your life's work, 
 and your life will not be spent amiss. Now, my dar- 
 ling child, I commit you to the care of our Heavenly 
 Father and these kind friends, who have promised to 
 care for you as if you were their own. Remember, 
 as you pursue your lonely journey through life, that 
 your mother awaits you on that other bright shore. 
 
 "Your loving mother, forever and ever, 
 
 "ANNIE STRASMORE." 
 
 -auline's tender heart was touched, and the 
 tears were coursing down her cheeks when she 
 had finished reading the contents of the letter. 
 
 " Pauline," said William Strasmore, in a low, 
 solemn voice, ' ' I should have told you this 
 before, but I had not the courage until now 
 to lay bear this dark secret. You know all 
 now ; are you still willing to risk your life and 
 happiness in my keeping?" 
 
 She threw her arms about his neck and cried : 
 "Oh, Willie! Willie! I have no fears of you. 
 You will never yield to intemperance, and I will 
 help you avenge your murdered parents. We 
 will, together, make war on alcohol, and devote 
 our lives to the work."
 
 THE WORST FOE. 93 
 
 "God bless you, Pauline; you inspire me 
 with courage and determination. You are as 
 brave, as trusting and noble as my own poor 
 mother. Heaven grant that you may never 
 be called upon to endure the trials she had to 
 suffer.'' 
 
 ' ' Tell me more of her, Willie. How long did 
 she live after writing this letter?" 
 
 ' 'About two weeks. The letter was kept by 
 Mrs. Johns, and given me when I was fifteen 
 years old. I know very little of my parents. 
 I never knew my mother's maiden name, her 
 birthplace, nor the date or place of her mar- 
 riage. She told Mrs. Johns but little more than the 
 letter contains, and never did she mention the 
 names of the friends who had reared her from 
 childhood, or who took care of her after she 
 was abandoned by my father. So deeply sunk 
 was she in despair that she forgot everything, 
 and Mrs. Johns failed to make any inquiry of 
 her or about her until it was too late." 
 
 They talked a long time, and planned out a 
 temperance campaign which was to last all their 
 lives. Both were young and hopeful, and both 
 enthusiastic in the cause.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A BOUQUET AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 
 
 "Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate 
 All but the page prescribed, their present state." 
 
 Pope. 
 
 T 9 TE have now brought the various threads of 
 *^ our romance down to the time when Mark 
 Day left his mother and sister so abruptly, de- 
 termined, as he vowed, to tell Guy Denesmore 
 every word of slander his sister had spoken 
 against Pauline. Mark was so impulsive and de- 
 termined, that had he found Dr. Denesmore in 
 his office, there is no question but that he would 
 have told him all, but the young doctor was out. 
 After several moments spent in reflection, Mark 
 began to question whether it was right, after all, 
 for him to tell family secrets. He dared not go 
 to his mother for advice on this critical subject, 
 so he determined on the next best thing, which 
 was to go and consult with his Sunday School 
 teacher. 
 
 Pauline, who had ever been friendly with the 
 Days, was warmly attached to Mark, who had 
 for some time been a member of her Sunday 
 School class. She always welcomed the lad 
 
 94
 
 THE WORST FOE. 95 
 
 warmly when he came, and Mark had often 
 confided his petty troubles to her, and she had 
 never failed to give him good advice. She met 
 Mark at the door and brought him to the sitting 
 room where she was doing some light sewing. 
 
 "Miss Denesmore," Mark began after an 
 awkward silence of a few moments, "D'ye think 
 a boy ought to tell every thing he knows?" 
 
 "No, Mark it is not necessary to do that." 
 
 "Well s'pose a boy would overhear somebody 
 talking about somebody he thinks a great deal 
 of, ought the boy go and tell 'em all about what 
 they said. " 
 
 ' 'It would do no good, Mark, and might do 
 harm ; unless in special cases where it became ab- 
 solutely necessary to tell one that another had 
 slandered him, I would say nothing about it." 
 
 "You would'nt ?" 
 
 "No, it would do no good for any one to 
 know another had spoken ill of him, and might 
 do a great deal of harm. It would be sure to 
 wound some one's feelings, and the slander 
 would not become wide spread, or even known, 
 if not repeated." 
 
 "Well, s'pose a feller wanted to tell it just to 
 learn somebody a lesson " 
 
 "In that instance he should learn a lesson him- 
 self first, Mark." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "To curb his temper and not be a scandal
 
 g6 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 monger. To tell what another said merely be- 
 cause you are angry at him, is revenge, and to 
 tell it for the mere pleasure of disseminating 
 news, is to become a scandal monger. You are 
 angry, are you not, Mark ?" 
 
 "Well, yes you bet I'm a little hot just now. 
 But say is there any way a boy can get even 
 without being revengeful." 
 
 "Remember that 'vengeance is mine, and I 
 will repay saith the Lord. ' ' 
 
 "Well, I don't doubt that, but then a feller 
 would so like to help the Lord along in these 
 matters sometimes." 
 
 "The Lord does His work in His own way, 
 and in this instance I greatly fear that it is not 
 the Lord, but the evil one, you are helping." 
 
 ' 'Then you think a boy never ought to tell a 
 body what they hear said about them ?" 
 
 ' 'Never unless it is necessary that they should 
 shield themselves from danger in some way. I 
 think you are not in a proper mood, Mark, to 
 decide this matter. Take a week's time and 
 consider it well before you do anything." 
 
 "I'll do that," said Mark warmly, "I'll do 
 anything you want me to do. I've found out 
 that you never advise any one wrong, and as 
 long as I do just as you say, I do right. " 
 
 ' 'You have done remarkably well in mastering 
 yourself in the last two years, Mark, but these 
 sudden outbursts of passion are liable to change 
 the good opinion we have formed of you."
 
 THE WORST FOE. 97 
 
 "But, Miss Denesmore, don't think a feller 
 can quit off all at once. It isn't natural, you 
 know. If a locomotive is running full speed 
 and you stop it at once, something will break. 
 I have about quit all the bad habits I had, but 
 an unconverted fellow can't drop all at once 
 you must let him down easy." 
 
 "Perhaps you are right, then try to become 
 converted and be safe. I want you to assist me, 
 Mark, in some missionary work." 
 
 "Missionary work good land, Miss Denes- 
 more, you don't think I am good enough to be 
 a missionary ?" 
 
 "Of course, every one can help the good 
 cause if he will, and the more you work for others 
 the better you will become. Mr. Strasmore says 
 that in the west end of the city there is a num- 
 ber of children with intemperate parents. I 
 want you to hunt them up, and we will go to- 
 gether among them and try to persuade them to 
 come to the Hall next Sabbath." 
 
 "I'll do it," cried Mark enthusiastically, "I'll 
 do whatever you say. Speaking of Mr. Stras- 
 more, I tell you the big boys in his class like 
 him. I don't believe one of them, big or 
 little, would do anything contrary to his wishes. 
 All his boys talk temperance but that' sail non- 
 sense." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "It makes me think, why don't people vote 
 more and do less blowing. " (7)
 
 98 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 ' 'No man is entitled to more than one vote, 
 and what more can he do than cast it for the 
 man or cause he thinks most sacred? " 
 
 "A heap more," cried Mark, "every good 
 man ought to be able to influence a dozen more 
 men in the right. Let 'em get to work coaxing 
 them to vote just as I coax the boys at school, 
 sometimes, to do the way I want to, and then 
 they'd carry things. There is Judge Humphrey. 
 Just see what a fraud he is, playing pig and 
 puppy all the time, and people who claim to be 
 temperance people voting for him, too. When 
 he is among temperance people he claims to be 
 a temperance man in moderation. Because he 
 occupies the position of a judge to decide crimi- 
 nal cases, he thinks he ought not to make much 
 blow about it. When he is among the whisky 
 men he denounces temperance people as fanatics 
 and fools. Oh, I've heard him do that. He 
 thought I was only a boy and he paid no atten- 
 tion to me. He goes to saloons and drinks until 
 his face is red and he can hardly walk straight, 
 and then they say he is a temperance man. 
 When whisky cases come up for him to decide, 
 the law is always against temperance yet he is 
 a temperance man. When Jim Sprout, the 
 druggist, was arrested for selling liquor, he let 
 him pay the costs in some cases, and some he 
 dismissed altogether and gave him all the time 
 he wanted on others. But Sprout is the brother-
 
 THE WORST FOE. 99 
 
 in-law of Judge Humphreys' brother, and some 
 say that is the reason Judge Humphreys lets him 
 off so easily. After elections are over Judge 
 Humphreys sometimes makes a temperance 
 speech and then gets drunk before the week is 
 out. He gets whisky votes because he is a 
 whisky man and temperance votes because he 
 is a temperance man." 
 
 "People may get their eyes open to Judge 
 Humphreys yet, Mark." 
 
 "Well, they had better get 'em open soon, for 
 he comes up for re-election. It's not much use 
 to have temperance laws if you don't have a tern, 
 perance judge to enforce 'em. Humphreys is 
 temperance to the back bone when he wants 
 temperance votes, but he is always finding some 
 flaw in testimony or the law to let whisky sellers 
 out. Now, because Humphreys is a rich and 
 powerful man you must not say he does wrong, 
 when he is a grand fraud. ' ' 
 
 "I believe you are right, Mark, though your 
 language is forcible. I hope they will beat 
 Humphreys next time. Your ideas are original. " 
 
 "Yes, father always said I was full of original 
 sin. I know how things ought to be and when 
 I get to be a man I'm going to try to right 'em. 
 Humphreys will find one man who is not afraid 
 to talk about him and tell just what he is. He 
 can't scare me out as he did the editor who pub- 
 lished the piece about him, and make me hush
 
 IOO THE WORST FOE. 
 
 up." Mark was about to leave, when Pauline 
 told him to come to the flower garden and she 
 would send his sister a bouquet. 
 
 So absorbed had Mark become in the discus- 
 sion of Judge Humphreys' dual character that 
 he had forgotten the great object of his visit 
 until he had the bouquet in his hand and started 
 down the street. 
 
 "It wont do to give her this," said Mark to 
 himself as he hurried down the street. "No, 
 that would be rewarding her for abusing Pauline. 
 I wont do it. I might return good for evil and 
 heap coals of fire on her head, but Maria is not 
 one to be punished that way. 
 
 He crossed some open streets and came to 
 the 'premises of old Joe Hammond. The 
 wretched house and restaurant stood on the cor- 
 ner and on the right hand side was a board fence 
 or wall enclosing the yard and concealing it from 
 view. Thinking of Joe Hammond and many 
 more like him, Mark was hardly aware of what 
 he was doing until he had gone around the wall 
 and stopped at a gate that stood ajar. A little 
 form glided through the gate, and not noticing 
 the boy, threw some fine blocks she had brought 
 in her apron down upon the pavement. 
 
 "Now !" she said, infantile pleasure lighting 
 up the innocent little face. "Lillie make play 
 house wiz these b'ocks. Deena no split 'oo in 
 kindling wood."
 
 THE WORST FOE. IOI 
 
 ' 'Helloa, little girl, what is your name ?" asked 
 Mark without changing his position. The child 
 now saw the well dressed boy standing looking 
 at her, and dropping her head, put her finger to 
 the corner of her mouth and after a moment's 
 hesitation said : 
 
 "I is Lillie?" 
 
 "Yes, and a real pretty Lillie you are," said 
 the boy enthusiastically. ' 'Is old Joe Hammond 
 your father?" 
 
 "Do Hammond, he's papa." 
 
 "Would you like these flowers, my little girl?" 
 
 "Ess we dot no fowers. Mamma 's sick." 
 
 "A home needs few flowers with such a Lillie 
 as you growing in it." She did not understand 
 him, but her large blue eyes opened wide with 
 admiration for both flowers and donor. Mark 
 watched her as she brushed back the golden curls 
 which trespassed on her fair forehead. Putting 
 the flowers to her face and then holding them off 
 to get a better view of them, she exclaimed : 
 
 ' 'Oh, make mamma so glad !"and turning about 
 she was off in a moment. 
 
 "Good-bye little rosebud," said Mark as she 
 disappeared inside the great wall of boards. "If 
 old Joe Hammond was but half a man," he 
 thought ' 'he wouldn't get drunk, for that child's 
 sake." 
 
 Mark was not old enough to know that strong 
 drink alienated husbands from wives, fathers
 
 IO2 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 from children, and sons from their mothers. 
 
 It makes such demons of men that they hate 
 
 all they naturally should love. We wonder at 
 
 the effect of this serpent's bite, and yet make no 
 
 effort to destroy the serpent. 
 
 Lillie Hammond entered her mother's sick 
 
 room and laid the elegant bouquet of flowers on 
 
 the sick bed, saying : 
 
 "See, mamma, see, eez is for 'oo." 
 
 "Where did my little girl get them ?" 
 
 "Boy, mamma a boy, a date bid boy dive 'em 
 
 tome." 
 
 Who is he, what is his name?" 
 
 The child shook her puzzled little head and 
 
 said she did'nt know.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE FATAL STEP. 
 
 " O teacher ! some great mischeif had befallen 
 To that meek man, who well had sacrificed ! 
 Is pity thus and pure devotion paid ? " 
 
 Milton. 
 
 WHILE Mark was talking with Lillie Ham- 
 mond, having utterly forgotten his spoiled 
 sister, whom he had started out to humiliate, 
 Maria was at home trembling with apprehen- 
 sion, and giving vent to her passions by long 
 screams which at intervals of every few moments 
 filled the house. 
 
 The long afternoon passed, the quiet evening 
 twilight came, and Maria was miserable indeed 
 lamenting the events of the early afternoon, 
 and warring with her conscience, at times wish- 
 ing she was dead, and at others declaring she 
 cared not what the result of Mark's disclosures 
 might be. 
 
 At last the bell rang, and Dr. Denesmore was 
 announced. Her astonishment and fears were 
 almost unbearable. Mark had gone to Guy, 
 and he had doubtless come for some sort of an 
 explanation. Well, she at least would have the 
 opportunity of saying to her lover that she 
 
 103
 
 IO4 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 meant nothing. Hastily arranging her toilet 
 and assuming an expression so sweet that one 
 would not think that that pretty face could have 
 ever been soured, she hastened to the parlor, 
 where the young doctor was waiting. 
 
 "I thought you would never come," were 
 her first words before she had time to think that 
 it might be possible Mark had not told him after 
 all. 
 
 "Business has been very pressing of late," 
 said Guy, ' 'and though you have been out of 
 sight you were by no means out of mind." 
 
 She now realized the possibility of Mark's 
 threat having miscarried. If it had not, it had 
 evidently made little impression on Dr. Denes- 
 more's mind. He was very agreeable, and 
 gradually all the unpleasant thoughts of the 
 afternoon slipped from Maria's mind, and she 
 gave herself up wholly to the society of her 
 lover. 
 
 Later in the evening Mark returned home, 
 and noiselessly passing down the hall, walked 
 to the parlor door, which stood slightly ajar. 
 A few thin rays of light issued from within, 
 which aroused the boy's curiosity. Mark 
 pushed the door open and took one step inside 
 and paused. Guy and Maria were both sitting 
 on the sofa, side by side. Her head was resting 
 against his shoulder, his arm was about her waist, 
 and his hand held her s. So completely v/ere the
 
 THE WORST FOE. IO5 
 
 lovers absorbed with each other that they did not 
 see or hear the boy, who had hard work to keep 
 from laughing- at what, to him, was a most 
 ridiculous sight. Mark's mischievous mind was 
 busy at work trying to get the most he could out 
 of the grand event. He turned quickly but noise- 
 lessly around and started down the hall. 
 
 "Well, that means business," he said to him- 
 self, when so far away that there was no danger 
 of his being heard. "I guess Maria's got him, 
 sure enough. Well, she's got the best of the 
 bargain. The young doctor may think those 
 black eyes pretty now, but wait until he sees 
 the lightning flash. Her hands are white and 
 small, but there are claws there." He met a 
 servant girl at this moment, and stopping her, 
 in great excitement said: "Bridget! Bridget! 
 do you know what's the matter with Maria ?" 
 
 "No, yer honor, to be sure ; what's the mat- 
 ter wid the young leddy ?" 
 
 "She's in the parlor in an unconscious state. 
 Get Manda and go there at once. " 
 
 With many exclamations of alarm the Irish 
 girl hurried away, and Mark, brimful and run- 
 ning over with mischief, ran off into his mother's 
 room, stopping at the door just long enough to 
 say: 
 
 "Mother! Maria is in the parlor in an uncon- 
 scious state," and was gone again. He went to 
 the kitchen, where aunt Dinah, the colored cook, 
 Was just ready to go home.
 
 IO6 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "Aunt Dinah!" he cried excitedly, "Miss 
 Maria is in an unconscious condition in the 
 parlor. Don't lose a minute, but get your 
 camphor bottle and run to her." 
 
 "Sake's alibe, chile ! what am de matter?" 
 
 "I don't know; there is no time to ask any 
 questions go at once." 
 
 Snatching her camphor bottle from the mantel, 
 the fat form of old aunt Dinah went waddling 
 along the hall with something very much like a 
 run. Mark glanced at the fat old woman, heard 
 her excited puffs, and saw the bottle in her hand, 
 and the loose end of her red bandanna handker- 
 chief floating from its turban-like fold, and fell 
 down into the cook's easy chair and kicked and 
 screamed with laughter. He was still roaring when 
 aunt Dinah came back, trying to conceal the 
 vexed smile on her face 
 
 "What d'ye mean, chile?" she asked, trying 
 to conceal the humorous twinkle in her eyes. ' ' I 
 jess clar ef I was yo' mudder ef I didn't whoop 
 you ef it war de last ting I ebber done." 
 
 "Why, aunt Dinah, wasn't she unconscious?" 
 asked Mark. 
 
 ' ' Unconscious ! wall, I guess she war, honey, 
 he, he, he, he." It was too much for the good- 
 natured aunt Dinah, and she leaned against a 
 table and laughed until it seemed as if she 
 would never regain her breath. 
 
 "Aunt Dinah, tell me just what you saw in
 
 THE WORST FOE. IO/ 
 
 the parlor?" said Mark, trying to control his 
 own risibles. 
 
 "G'lang, now, chile; d'ye reckin' I'm gwine 
 to tell family secrets ? " 
 
 "It's no secret when told in the family; be- 
 tides, I will get it all in an exaggerated form 
 from Bridget and Manda." 
 
 " Dat's so. I nebber saw gals zaggerate so in 
 all my bawn days. Dey'll be tellin' a awful mess 
 o' stuff." 
 
 " It makes no difference, aunt Dinah, for Guy 
 and Maria are engaged." 
 
 "Law's a massa, yo' don't say, now? Why 
 didn't I heah ob it afore ? " 
 
 " I guess it just happened. I came along and 
 saw her in his arms, and knew that meant busi- 
 ness ; so I thought it was time everybody was 
 knowing it, and began to scatter the good news. 
 I say, aunt Dinah, didn't you find her in an un- 
 conscious state?" 
 
 "Oh, hush, honey," said aunt Dinah, smooth- 
 ing out her snow-white apron with her hand, and 
 folding her black, shining arms. ' ' I jes come 
 'long on de run, an' right in de room stood dem 
 gals Bridget and Manda, boff dumb-foundered- 
 like. Den yer ma, she jest come runnin', all 
 pantin' an' scart like she was gwine to faint. 
 She run past us, went up to wha' Miss Maria 
 lay in de Doctor's arms, an' said: 'Oh, Doctor, 
 what am de matter wid my daughter what do
 
 IO8 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 all dis mean?' Ef ye'll believe me, needer ivliss 
 Maria nor de Doctor had seed or heerd us. Oh, 
 ye orter seed how mad Miss Maria looked. O me. 
 E)en de gals an' me, we got out o' dah putty 
 quick. Dey's engaged, sartin, shuah. " 
 
 "Oh, yes, you can bet they are engaged, aunt 
 Dinah, or you'd never have found 'em in that 
 interesting position. " 
 
 ' ' I guess yer right, honey. Ef I'se got to look 
 arter de cookin' fur de weddin' I'm not goin' to 
 be pestered to def wid dat Bridget tellin' me 
 how Mrs. Malhoney use to season tings. Fse 
 not cooked long afo' de wah for nuffin'." 
 
 "You'll not be bothered with Bridget, Dinah. 
 I say, aunt Dinah, couldn't you get a boy some 
 soft gingerbread and cream ? It seems I'm al- 
 ways hungry." 
 
 " Laws sakes, honey, yo* can hab any 'mount 
 ob it, but it's cold, an' it's no 'count when it's 
 cold, but jes wait." She left the room, and re- 
 turned in a few moments with a glass of cream 
 and gingerbread, Mark's favorite. 
 
 ' ' Do you know the Hammonds, aunt Dinah ? " 
 Mark asked, as he proceeded to eat his favorite 
 luncheon 
 
 "Ole Joe Hammond! I reckin I do. Mrs. 
 Wessenger, de woman I worked for afo' I came 
 heah, used to take a sight o' pains wid Mrs. 
 Hammond. One day when Lillie was a wee 
 bit of a baby, she sent me dar, an* I nebber sa*
 
 THE WORST FOE. ICX) 
 
 nicer people an' Deena, an' her mudder, an' 
 Geo'ge. I jess said to Missus Hammond, dat 
 son Geo'ge of your'n will be de comfort ob yo' 
 'clinin' y'ars. He '11 nebber break a mudder's 
 heart " 
 
 "George Hammond! why he's the biggest 
 drunkard in town," broke in Mark. "He is 
 drunk all the time." 
 
 "Geo'ge Hammond drunk!" cried Aunt 
 Dinah in amazement. ' ' Oh, Master Mark, 
 who am safe ? I is afraid my Jefferson Lea '11 
 be next." 
 
 ' ' I tell you, Aunt Dinah, whisky is a danger- 
 ous thing to handle. No one's safe while there's 
 a bit of it left. The Denesmores never have a 
 drop in their house, but they are not entirely 
 safe, because there's the serpent waiting outside 
 to bite 'em. I wish you wouldn't use brandy in 
 your seasoning," 
 
 "Good laws, Master Mark, can't git nuffin' 
 in place of it." 
 
 "Then let things go without seasoning. 
 George Hammond may have got to liking" 
 whisky by tasting it in sauce." 
 
 " Bress de Lawd, he nebber taste it in mine, 
 an' nobody else ebber will agin. I'll nebber put 
 it in no, not ef I git turned off for it." 
 
 "You'll not be discharged, Aunt Dinan;'if 
 you are, I'll give you a recommend, and state 
 why you were turned off."
 
 HO THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Aunt Dinah arose, and looking at the clock, 
 said : ' ' Ef it ain't nine ! I allers git home afo' 
 eight. What '11 Washington Irvin say! " 
 
 ' ' Tell him you have been a witness to some 
 first-class courting." 
 
 "Ha, ha, ha, Mark, it may be you and dat 
 Lillie Hammond next time." 
 
 That night in her dreams Aunt Dinah saw 
 Mark a great bearded man, and Lillie a bright 
 young woman, and was cooking for their wed- 
 ding. She had frosted the cake until it was like 
 a snow flake, when, Bridget declaring it was in- 
 ferior to Mrs. Malhoney's, threw it from the 
 window. So great was Aunt Dinah's rage that 
 she awoke.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE WEDDING. 
 
 " Self-love still stronger, as its object's nigh ; 
 Reasons at distance, and in prospects lie." 
 
 Pope. 
 
 MARK was right in his conjectures of a wed- 
 ding in the near future. The day set was a 
 few weeks sooner than the date for William Stras- 
 more's marriage to Pauline. Guy had spoken of 
 a double wedding, but Maria had serious objec- 
 tions, and her wish was law to him. She was 
 so selfish that on her wedding day she wanted 
 no divided attentions or congratulations. 
 
 Guy lived in a paradise of anticipation, in 
 which all good men perhaps once live antici- 
 pation of the hour when the fulfillment of time 
 would make the woman he loved his own, to 
 care for, protect and adore. At home all shared 
 his happy mood, and if occasionally behind the 
 scenes Pauline stood and trembled for her broth- 
 er's future, or even shed tears, no one was the 
 wiser, not even her own betrothed. 
 
 Very different, indeed, were the feelings of 
 Maria ; she knew now to a certainty that Guy 
 loved her and that she would become his wife. 
 She thought it was just as it should be, for she 
 
 111
 
 112 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 was just the woman to preside over his magnifi- 
 cent home. Of course they would live more 
 grandly than any one else. She was irritable to 
 all the household, and when Mark reminded her 
 that in view of her coming marriage she ought 
 to be a little more pleasant, she stamped her 
 small, pinched foot on the floor and bade him be 
 gone. 
 
 Mr. Day was pleased with the coming mar- 
 riage of his daughter, Guy was held in the 
 highest esteem by all who knew him, but in ad- 
 dition to that he was the son of a wealthy man. 
 Honors without wealth were empty, indeed, to 
 Mr. Day. To Maria he proudly said : 
 
 "You are going to do very well, but no better 
 than you should. That face of yours is worth 
 a fortune and would be sure to attract a man of 
 wealth." 
 
 Maria consulted the small mirror in her fan to 
 see if her loveliness had increased since she con- 
 sulted the large French mirror in her dressing 
 room a few moments before. She had been 
 taught to worship the beauty of her face and 
 figure, therefore we must be lenient toward her. 
 Selfishness and every evil relative thereto is the 
 result of flattered vanity. Mrs. Day was all 
 smiles and amiability for weeks preceding the 
 wedding. Ernest Day was decidedly morose 
 and very seldom joined the family circle. He 
 never referred to the subject daily discussed by
 
 THE WORST FOE. 1 13 
 
 the other members of the household. He never 
 congratulated his sister and actually seemed to 
 avoid Guy. All the while he was brooding 
 silently brooding over something. 
 
 Aunt Dinah had her own way, and Bridget 
 was told she must not molest her with any insin- 
 uations about Mrs. Malhoney. Mark frequently 
 came to the kitchen, for what boy has not been 
 attracted by the odors of baking cakes? He 
 stood with eyes wide open in admiration of 
 Aunt Dinah's artistic skill as worked out in a 
 handsome lily leaf and bud on the frosting of 
 the bride's cake. Her black skin was quite in 
 contrast with her snowy apron and turban. Aunt 
 Dinah chuckled with delight at Mark's praise oi 
 her skill, and as a reward allowed him to sample 
 cakes, jellies and preserves. What boy does not 
 like to be about the kitchen at baking time and 
 sample the various dishes ? Mark was delighted 
 and he sounded Aunt Dinah's praise until she 
 laughingly said : 
 
 "Well, honey, I tries to do my best, 'cause 
 dis am an extra 'casion. I hope I'll lib to bake 
 yo' weddin' cakes for yo', chile." 
 
 "I hope so too, Aunt Dinah. Anybody can 
 afford to get married just to have you bake foi 
 them." 
 
 "Oh, hush up, boy, yo' doan' know what ye's 
 talkin"bout, 'tall." 
 
 (8)
 
 H4 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 The day for the grand wedding came. For 
 weeks it had been the all absorbing topic of con- 
 versation in social circles. The most aristocratic 
 church in the town had been selected by Miss 
 Maria, for she wanted to make a grand display. 
 As the .Days were not church members, of course 
 they were confined to no particular creed. On 
 that day the large church was crowded, and 
 many rich and elaborate toilets were to be seen 
 in the assembly. The wedding was in English 
 fashion to suit Miss Day's taste, the bridegroom 
 and his best man entering the chancel from the 
 vestry room and there awaiting the bride. The 
 organ was playing a wedding march when the 
 bride entered, leaning on the arm of her father 
 who was to give her away. She was preceded 
 by four ushers and followed by four brides- 
 maids. The bride's costume was elegant ; her 
 dress was of white brocade and satin, the front 
 being of plain satin laid in several square folds, 
 over which was a tablier of the brocade. The 
 corsage was cut in a wide, deep square and trim- 
 med with point lace. A small spray of orange 
 blossoms was secured with diamonds. She wore 
 a necklace of diamonds, to which was attached 
 a brooch, in the centre of which was a magnifi 
 cent diamond. She carried in her hand a bou- 
 quet of lilies of the valley. 
 
 When Guy Denesmore stepped to the side of his 
 bride and took her hand in his, poor Pauline's
 
 THE WORST FOE. 11$ 
 
 heart almost ceased to beat. Was he entering 
 on the road to ruin ? Was he taking a step 
 which he must all his life regret in silence ? she 
 asked herself. She was only conscious of the 
 good minister saying some half intelligible words, 
 and of low and solemn prayer. Then came con- 
 gratulations. Pauline's lips were cold when she 
 kissed her new sister, but they seemed to meet 
 lips of ice. Involuntarily she shuddered, she 
 knew not why. 
 
 At Mr. Day's house the decorations were 
 magnificent. The main parlor was decorated 
 with a large marriage-bell of white roses, carna- 
 tions and lilies of the valley, under which the 
 bride and groom stood to recieve the congratu- 
 lations of friends. On the other side of the bell 
 stood cornucopias of roses and lilies of the valley. 
 In each corner of the room were groups of palms. 
 The main mantel and mirror were decorated with 
 smilax and roses. The pictures were hung with 
 berries, ivy and ferns ; through the verdant 
 wreaths the gilded frames gleamed in the gaslight. 
 The crystal chandelier was also trimmed with 
 smilax and roses. The rear parlor was decorated 
 with smilax and plants, and the dining room, 
 where the collation was, contained many rose- 
 buds and full-blown roses. 
 
 Dancing was dispensed with on this evening 
 for the sake of Guy's parents. Maria yielded 
 this one time to the wishes of her husband but 
 resolved never to do so again.
 
 Il6 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 As Mr. John Denesmore gazed upon the beau- 
 tiful bride, he did not wonder that his son had 
 chosen her, for never, in all his life, had he seen 
 a more attractive woman, she seemed the ideal of 
 some skilled artist rather than a real person of 
 flesh and blood. But when he came to greet his 
 son's wife, her cold and selfish nature were 
 so apparent, that he almost shrunk from her, 
 and turned away with a strange sadness and un- 
 definable dread. She had an irresistible charm 
 about her, but it was more like the charm of a 
 serpent than a pure, good woman. Pauline, who 
 had not spoken to Ernest Day for many months, 
 warmly grasped his hand on this evening and 
 said: 
 
 ' 'We are both gainers, Mr. Day. You have 
 gained a brother and I a sister. " She was chilled 
 by the coldness of his hand, and the wild ex- 
 pression in his eyes frightened her. After giving 
 her a stare from his cold, almost glassy eyes, he 
 said : 
 
 "Yes, Miss Denesmore, we are both gainers. 
 I am satisfied with Maria's choice." 
 
 She left his side as soon as politeness would 
 permit, and avoided him the remainder of the 
 evening. Somehow she felt that he would bring 
 woe upon her life. 
 
 The next day Guy Denesmore and his young 
 wife set out on a bridal tour through the west.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OUT OF THE DITCH. 
 
 "Alas, 'tis true, I have gone here and there, 
 
 And made myself a motley to the view, 
 Gor' mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, 
 
 Made old offences of affection new." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 William Strasmore was true to the trust com- 
 mitted to his care, and determined not to stop 
 short of the entire extermination of the evil. 
 But the minds of the masses had not yet been 
 educated up to the advanced idea of prohibition, 
 and he determined to be one of those humble 
 educators. At this time a large temperance or- 
 ganization was prospering under his leadership, 
 as was also a juvenile "Band of Hope" under 
 the superintendence of Pauline Denesmore, as- 
 sisted by himself. It was the intention to bring 
 all the children of intemperate parents in the city 
 into this organization. Their combined efforts 
 were blessed and many were brought within the 
 folds of this little band. 
 
 William Strasmore, in this work to which he 
 had consecrated himself, found many things to 
 make his heart bleed. George Greene, "one of 
 
 117
 
 Il8 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Mr. Strasmore's boys, " as Mark termed them, 
 had been received into the lodge of Independent 
 Order of Good Templars. He told of his own 
 efforts and the efforts of Mr. Strasmore to redeem 
 his father. His father had made many good 
 resolutions and been received several times into 
 the lodge, and notwithstanding the encourage- 
 ment and prayers of his family and friends, 
 invariably fell. Beset on every hand by tempta- 
 tions, his strong desire to be a man was over- 
 come by an unquenchable thirst, an over-ruling 
 appetite which made him an abject slave to strong 
 drink. Mr. Greene remembered the time when 
 he had no such appetite for liquor. He only 
 drank then "to be social with the boys." But 
 now he was its slave, vainly trying to free him- 
 self from this bondage. George Greene, in deep 
 humiliation, said to his fellow workers in this 
 glorious cause: 
 
 "Make one more effort for father. I will not 
 say that I think he can resist the temptation, you 
 can only give him a trial. The only way to make 
 his salvation sure is to sweep all saloons and 
 places where liquors are sold from the face of 
 the earth." 
 
 As William Strasmore returned to his hotel 
 that night, he scarcely heeded the darkness or 
 drenching rain. The street lamps burned dimly, 
 and in places the way was obscure, but his heart 
 was heavy and his mind full of sad thoughts.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 What an herculean task he had undertaken, and 
 with what little success had his efforts been met. 
 
 A smothered groan fell on his ear, and he 
 stopped to look about him. Another gutteral 
 sound fell on his ears, and now he discovered an 
 object lying in the gutter but a few feet from 
 where he stood. He went to it, and never had 
 humanity presented itself in such a fallen state, 
 to his eyes. There, lying in the mud, his bare 
 head resting on his arm, his clothes bespattered 
 with mud, was a young man about his own age; 
 a man created in the image of God, with wis- 
 dom and capabilities, groveling in the mud like 
 the swine , a young man, who, a little more 
 than a year before was respected by all who knew 
 him, and the pride of his mother's heart. Wil- 
 liam gazed on this wreck of manhood a few mo- 
 ments, turned him over and tried to get him on 
 his feet but was unequal to the task, while the 
 poor, besotted wretch only swore at his would- 
 be benefactor, and asked to be let alone. 
 
 William hailed a passing policeman and said : 
 "Please, sir, help me get this man on his feet." 
 
 "Want him taken to the lock-up ?" asked the 
 officer. 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "A friend of yours ?" 
 
 "I am a friend to him but do not think he is 
 friendly toward me." 
 
 Despite his efforts to resist them, they sue-
 
 I2O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 ceeded in getting the poor fellow on his feet. 
 He uttered an unintelligible jumble of threats and 
 imprecations on the heads of his benefactors. 
 
 "Where d'ye intend takin' him?" asked the 
 officer. 
 
 "To the Park House," was the answer. 
 
 "What, take this sot there. The proprietor 
 will kick him out." 
 
 "No he will not," said William assuringly. 
 ' 'I have rooms there, and he shall sleep in my bed, 
 and I will keep him there until he has regained 
 his reason." 
 
 "You are Mr. Strasmore, the lawyer, I be- 
 lieve?" said the policeman, after giving our hero 
 a curious look. 
 
 "Yes sir." 
 
 "At your temperance work, eh ? Well you've 
 got a tough case here. His father is an old vet- 
 eran toper, and of course it 's natural his son 
 should follow. It runs in the family. " 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 "Good gracious, man, don't you know him? 
 why you just now said he was a friend of yours. " 
 
 "I am a friend to him, I said; because he be- 
 longs to the human family, I am his friend. I 
 will keep him with me until he is sober, and then 
 give him some good advice. If he does not 
 take it, I have done my duty, that is all." 
 
 "Well, you beat all fellows I ever met," said 
 the policeman, scratching his head. ' 'This fellow
 
 THE WORST FOE. 121 
 
 \s old Joe Hammond's son, George. Both of 
 them are known drunkards." 
 
 "George Hammond George Hammond," 
 said William Strasmore, thoughtfully, ' ' I have 
 certainly heard that name before." 
 
 The hotel was reached, and George Hammond's 
 mud-stained clothes were removed. He was 
 washed and arrayed in some of William's clean 
 night garments, and placed on a clean bed 
 where he soon fell asleep. In fact he was only 
 semi-conscious all the time. 
 
 "Whose work is this ?" William Strasmore 
 asked the policeman. 
 
 "What a question ! " laughed the policeman. 
 "His own work of course, whose else could it 
 be?" 
 
 "No," returned William, shaking his head 
 gravely. "It is not his own work, but the work 
 of intemperance, for which voters are responsi- 
 ble. Did you vote against license ? " 
 
 "I did not." 
 
 ' 'Then you are responsible ; think of yourself 
 aiding to bring about such misery." 
 
 "Pshaw! Mr. Strasmore, you look at it the 
 wrong way : you are on the unpopular side, and 
 you'll make enemies by it. Lawyers to be suc- 
 cessful must take a glass occasionally themselves. 
 Besides one man's vote makes no difference, and 
 when we voted for license, we did not vote for 
 men to make beasts of themselves."
 
 122 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "I fear you cast your vote without giving the 
 matter a serious thought. Had you stopped a 
 moment to think, you must have known that 
 this and worse would have been the result. Each 
 voter can use his influence at the polls as well as 
 elsewhere. I never have taken a drink with my 
 clients and never will, even though I should have 
 to abandon my business for not doing so." 
 
 "Well, it's no use for us to argue this question, 
 Mr. Strasmore. I cannot change your mind nor 
 can you change mine. " 
 
 William thanked him for his services, slipped 
 a silver coin in his hand in addition, and bade 
 him good night, locked the door, and throwing 
 himself on the sofa, was soon asleep. 
 
 When George Hammond awoke, the sun was 
 beaming in at the window and William Strasmore, 
 with folded arms, stood at his bedside gazing 
 compassionately upon him. For a moment the 
 bewildered youth could only stare about him in 
 amazement, and then starting up to a sitting posi- 
 tion he asked : 
 
 ' 'What does this mean ? How came I here ?" 
 His head was heavy and his temples throbbed 
 with pain, and he laid back on the pillow while 
 a deathly pallor overspread his face. 
 
 "You are with a friend who is going to do all 
 he can for you, "said William Strasmore, kindly 
 taking his hand in his own. George was about 
 to make some other inquiry when William stop-
 
 THE WORST FOE. 123 
 
 ped him. "Don't try to talk, your head aches 
 and it will make it worse to try to get up or talk. 
 Let me do the talking, for there is much I want 
 to say to you, and as my time is limited I must 
 talk very rapidly and to the point. I am not 
 going to upbraid you for the condition in which 
 you were found last night, for you are more to 
 be pitied than blamed. I know that temptations 
 beset men on every side and that while the spirit 
 is willing the flesh is weak." 
 
 "If it's not me, whom do you censure? A 
 man who makes a fool of himself must not be 
 held blameless." 
 
 "Every man who is old enough to vote, who 
 did not work and vote against license, is to 
 blame. " 
 
 "I never votea for license but once, and then 
 I did it to please my associates. Strong drink 
 has always been my greatest dread from a boy. 
 After I had once fallen it was my master. I 
 wanted to do differently, but it seemed I could 
 not live without stimulants, so great was this 
 awful, burning thirst." 
 
 ' 'Can you not make a resolve now to reform, 
 and by the help of God become a man ?" 
 
 ' 'It's no use. Here in the midst of my old 
 associates, with the temptation constantly before 
 me, to tempt my craving appetite, I cannot re- 
 form." 
 
 "Do not depend on yourself ask God to help 
 you."
 
 124 THE WORST FOE - 
 
 "I can't believe in a God such as Christians 
 believe in. There is my mother I have a good 
 mother, Strasmore who has prayed all her life, 
 and taught me to pray. Oh, how she has prayed 
 for the restoration of my father and that I might 
 be kept from falling. So far from her prayers 
 being answered, we have been sinking lower all 
 the time. No, a God who cannot answer 
 mother's prayers will not hear me." 
 
 ' 'Your mother has not done wrong, and her 
 prayers have kept her from wrong doing. Had 
 you prayed for yourself as fervently as she has 
 prayed for you, you would not have fallen. 
 Your mother's prayers may be answered very 
 differently from the way she asks. You may all 
 be instruments of good in the Lord's hands. If 
 you pray, 'lead us not into temptation but deliver 
 us from evil,' with an earnest desire from the 
 heart, and the proper faith, your prayer will be 
 answered as sure as day succeeds night. I speak 
 from experience. If your companions have an 
 evil influence over you, remove as far from them 
 as you can, so as not to be tempted by them. 
 Choose a different class of associates, and pray 
 for strength and guidance, and your efforts are 
 sure to be blessed. Now, Mr. Hammond, grant 
 me this request ; remain in my rooms to-day. 
 By and by, when you feel so disposed, you can 
 go into the other room where a breakfast will be 
 waiting for you. Here are such books as you
 
 THE WORST FOE. 1 25 
 
 will want to read. Think much of yourself, look 
 well into your heart, and find if you have strength 
 to sacrifice your appetite for the sake of justice 
 and mercy to yourself and others. At four we 
 will dine and go out for a drive. The remainder 
 of the day we will spend as much to the mutual 
 benefit of each other as we can." George Ham- 
 mond, with a desperate resolution to make one 
 more effort at reformation, consented. "Now, 
 if you will give me the number and street of 
 your family, I will tell them you are going to 
 spend the day with me, and make no allusion to 
 the events of last night." 
 
 George Hammond looked very grateful for the 
 gentle consideration of his new found friend and 
 gave his number, and William left the room. 
 
 When alone the inebriate gave way to the 
 most bitter reflections. A conflict was raging 
 within his breast and all the pent-up feelings of 
 remorse seemed to burst forth and overwhelm 
 him, and he groaned aloud in agony. ' 'I can lie 
 here no longer," he finally said, springing from 
 the bed and putting on his clothes, which had 
 been cleaned and prepared for him. He went 
 into the adjoining room, where he partook of 
 some of the food awaiting him there and sat 
 down to await the return of his benefactor. 
 
 There were books in the book case, but he 
 could not read, he could only review the mis- 
 spent twenty months, and try to look hopefully
 
 126 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 at the future. What a wreck twenty months of 
 dissipation had made him Fully realizing his 
 position he was in both physical and mental 
 agony. Once the craving appetite mastered 
 him, and he went to the door intending to break 
 his good promise. He felt relieved when he 
 found the door locked. 
 
 Knowing his friend would be tempted, William 
 had taken the wise precaution to lock the door. 
 Ah ! if all the doors between the tempter and 
 tempted could be barred, what a blessing to poor, 
 suffering humanity it would prove ! The door 
 is not only unlocked, but the temptation is at 
 every corner appealing urgently to all the senses 
 and actually dragging the unfortunate victim 
 within its fatal folds. The tempted, led on by 
 an unquenchable thirst, does not stop to think 
 that behind those dark screens lurks humanity's 
 " Worst Foe" ready to seize upon the unwary and 
 to drag him into his den of despair. 
 
 George Hammond, like many another young 
 man, knew all this, but felt sure that he could go 
 so far and no farther, only to become a living exam- 
 ple of the fallacy and danger of such doctrine.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MARK AS A MISSIONARY. 
 
 "But there are bright visions 
 
 On which we may gaze, 
 And no fear of their fading 
 
 E'er darken our ways. 
 There are gates that are golden, 
 
 And dreams unsurpassed : 
 They are visions of Heaven 
 
 That endure to the last." 
 
 Mustek. 
 
 H AT Lillie Hammond 's a very pretty little 
 child," said Mark Day to himself as he 
 passed old Joe Hammond's miserable house, 
 after having stopped just long enough to give 
 the bright eyed little fairy a bouquet of choice 
 flowers. "She will make a smashin' finelookin* 
 woman she will when she gets grown.'* 
 Mark had just started out on his missionary work 
 and with little Lillie Hammond in mind, he 
 wended his way toward the West End, as the 
 western part of the town was called. This was 
 a locality which, in American parlance, is com- 
 monly denominated as tough. Here resided a 
 majority of those creatures who spend their 
 
 127
 
 128 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 hard earnings for that which robs them of body 
 and soul. 
 
 ' 'Where am I going and what am I going to 
 do when I get there?" the juvenile missionary 
 asked himself. "Well, I guess I can find my 
 way out, I came here to find where certain 
 boys and girls live, so that Miss Denesmore and 
 I can call on them and try to enlist them in our 
 Sabbath School, and finally our temperance 
 work that makes me a sort of home missionary 
 I guess." 
 
 He was certainly a bright eyed, comely young 
 missionary, and one calculated to do a great deal 
 of good in the cause in which he had engaged. 
 He reached a low, unpainted cottage surrounded 
 by a paling fence, which, as well as the house, 
 spoke of neglect and threatened to tumble to 
 decay. An old woman was seated in a well- 
 worn arm chair on the shady side of the house, 
 and Mark thought that this would be as good a 
 place as any to begin his work, so he paused 
 with his hand on the rickety old gate and said : 
 
 "How do you do, grandma can I come in ?" 
 
 The old woman raised her head and looking 
 at him from under her spectacles, answered : 
 
 "Why o' course ye kin ef yer civil who are 
 ye any way?" 
 
 "I'm a boy," answered Mark entering the 
 gate and advancing toward the old lady. "I'm 
 a missionary, and I guess you'll find me civil."
 
 THE WORST FOE. 1 29 
 
 "O' course ye be. Here, Hannar, bring this 
 t>oy a cheer. It's so hot in the house that ye'd 
 better set out in the shade," said the old woman 
 apologetically. Hannah proved to be a dirty, 
 barefooted girl about Mark's own age. When 
 the well-dressed boy took the chair and thanked 
 her so kindly, she said to herself that he was 
 real nice, and wanted very much to know his name 
 and where he lived, but in the parlance of 
 her grandmother "couldn't git up the spunk," 
 and contented herself by leaning on her grand- 
 ma's chair back, occasionally giving him a sly 
 glance. After a few moments Mark plunged 
 into the object of his visit, saying : 
 
 "I come here to learn something about the 
 boys and girls who live in this locality. There 
 is a Christian lady who wishes to know their 
 names, and places where they live. She intends 
 to visit them all and persuade them to spend a 
 couple of hours each Sabbath at the Mission 
 Hall. They will all be better for it, and will 
 soon think it real nice to go there. I did'ntlike 
 the idea of going there myself at first, but now 
 there is no place where I have so much fun." 
 
 'Better'n the theatre?" said Hannah, evidently 
 speaking under the impulse of the moment, and 
 hanging her head and blushing a moment after- 
 ward. 
 
 "Yes, it beats a theatre all to pieces, " returned 
 Mark enthusiastically. 
 
 (9)
 
 I3O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Grandma took her glasses from her forehead, 
 wiped them on the corner of her apron, looking 
 sharply at Mark all the while, then mounting 
 them again on her nose she said: 
 
 "Yes, I s'poseyou like to go thar, cosyernot 
 ashamed o' yer clothes, an* kin hev money to 
 put in the box when it's passed 'round ; but 
 how 'd you s'pose this child 'd feel among them 
 stuck up folks that's no better' n she is?" nodding 
 her head toward Hannah. "Thar's one thing, 
 her father's an honest man, if he isn't rich enough 
 to live in style. He don't cheat no'n, an' he 
 earns his bread by the sweat o' his brow;" 
 
 "What is his name?" Mark asked. 
 
 "Our name's Brown. I live with my son, 
 Sam Brown, who works at the machine shops, 
 and a likely good man he is, too, if I do say it 
 myself; he's got no bad habits." 
 
 "I don't doubt it, and I'm going to the shops 
 to see him sometime, if he'll talk to a boy like 
 me," said Mark. 
 
 "Oh, he'll talk when he finds you're friendly; 
 but he's a mighty proud man, my Sam is, and 
 wont be run over by no rich folks. He's more 
 proud like, cos we're in sich a neighborhood, all 
 carousin', drinkin' an' sich carryin's on as ye 
 never heerd; but Sam wants all to understand 
 that he aint one o' 'em." 
 
 'Are the people in this neighborhood a bad 
 drinking set?"
 
 THE WORST FOE. 13! 
 
 "Yes, the men are, but the women are a sort 
 o' easy goin', like, don't 'pear to worry much 
 'bout their men lettin' things go at loose eends, 
 an' most o' the young uns is mighty bad. Ef 
 goin' to the Hall will help 'em any, fur goodness 
 sake try an' git 'em all to go. But thar's one family 
 ye'll find tough. Their name 's Barnes, an' I'll 
 pint out the house fur ye afore ye go. It's jist 
 around the corner. " 
 
 Mark made some further inquiry in regard to 
 the neighborhood, and she gave him a thorough 
 description of some of the worst people in it, 
 concluding with : "That Bill and Jinny Barnes 
 are the wust of 'em all. Bill 's 'bout twelve or 
 thirteen years old. Now if Sam had a boy that 
 big he'd have some help out 'o him, but laws 
 that Bill Barnes aint no help to his daddy. His 
 ma was lettin' on that Bill worked and earned a 
 little an' his daddy took it away from him fur 
 drink, an' Bill sot right down an' cussed an' 
 swore he'd never work agin. But mebbe he'll 
 change his mind ef he goes t' the Hall. You 
 jest take a old 'omans advice an' go an see how 
 the wind blows afore takin' a young lady there." 
 
 "I'll do that, grandma." , 
 
 "Now, if you kin do anything with Bill 
 Barnes, why it'll be time well spent. Ef he'd 
 only earn a little money to buy his ma some tea 
 it would be sich a blessin' fur the poor soul, fur 
 I don't see how them Barneses do live, no how.
 
 132 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Sam don't spend any o' his earnin's in drink an' 
 its all we kin do to live. We can't lay up nuthin' 
 fur a rainy day, an' old Barnes is never sober 
 only when he's in the lock-up." 
 
 "I thank you very much, grandma, and now 
 I must be going, for I intend to call on the 
 Barneses," said Mark. "When the lady comes 
 in this neighborhood she will call on you first." 
 
 "Ef ye'lljistlet us know when yer comin', 
 we'll fix up a little," said the old woman, her 
 eyes sparkling brightly beneath her spectacles. 
 Sam's so proud, he'd feel orful bad ef company 
 come an' we warnt fixed up." 
 
 "We will come day after to-morrow," said 
 Mark, and turning to Hannah added, ' 'you must 
 coax your father to let you come to the Hall ; oh, 
 it is much better than the theatre or dime museum. 
 It's not like either." 
 
 When Mark was gone the girl who had been 
 standing biting her finger nails said : 
 
 "Ainthe nice, grandma? Who is he?" 
 
 "Why, he's a rich man's boy." 
 
 "He's not bad, an' I thought ye said all rich 
 people was stuck up ?" 
 
 "Most rich folks is stuck up, but he don't seem 
 to be. May be the Hall 's made him better'n 
 the rest on 'em." 
 
 The Barnes family was the last on Mark's list 
 to visit, for from the discription he had he greatly 
 dreaded them. He met witX fair success at the
 
 THE WORST FOE. 133 
 
 other houses, and many dirty youngsters prom- 
 ised to be at the Mission Hall next Sabbath. 
 Mark at last came to the home of the Barneses, 
 a wretched, tumble-down hut, betraying filthy 
 negligence to even the passer-by. Mark entered 
 between two half rotted posts where a gate had 
 once hung, but had long since disappeared. A 
 few decaying pickets were all that was left of 
 what had once been a fence enclosing the prem- 
 ises. He went to the door and rapped several 
 times, but receiving no answer was about to go 
 away, when he heard a boy's voice scream : 
 
 "You, Jinny, come here !" 
 
 Mark hastened around the side of the house, 
 and when he had turned the corner saw a boy 
 standing in the rear yard with his back toward 
 him. This was undoubtedly the terrible Bill 
 Barnes. He was barefooted, ragged and dirty, 
 and his loose trousers held up by one suspender. 
 His uncombed hair was bushed out beneath his 
 slouched hat, and even peeped through a hole 
 in the crown. Although his face was not seen, 
 Mark knew it must be as dirty as his hands. 
 
 "I tell yer Jinny to come here," he again 
 screamed. A half grown girl appeared from 
 around the corner of the house opposite Mark, 
 at a full run. Her dress was short, and as dirty 
 and patched as her brother's clothes, and her 
 feet and legs were bare. There was no covering 
 on her head save the thick mass of matted hair.
 
 134 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "What d' yer want, Bill?" she asked, coming 
 up to him. 
 
 For answer, Bill seized her by the neck and 
 shoulders, and dragging her to a tub of dirty 
 water that stood near, plunged her head into the 
 water. "Thar, Jin," he cried as he let her, 
 strangling and screaming, get up, ' 'that fur eatin' 
 my apple." 
 
 As soon as she got the water out of her eyes 
 she began throwing water at Bill with both 
 hands. Bill quickly got out of harm's way 
 and began pelting her with dirt and pellets of 
 mud. Mark, unobserved, watched the combat 
 for some time. Here were the rank weeds of 
 ignorance and selfishness choking out every good 
 germ. The longer Mark watched the more he 
 determined to make Bill give him a hearing. At 
 last, tired of waiting, he called out : 
 
 "Helloa, Bill Barnes, what are you up to?" 
 
 Both Bill and his sister ceased hostilities, and 
 for a moment stared in open-mouthed wonder at 
 the well-dressed boy. 
 
 "Well, dandy, where did you drop from?" 
 Bill at last asked, at the same time seizing a clod 
 of dirt and hitting Mark on the shoulder. Mark 
 picked up some dirt and threw, hitting Bill in the 
 face, saying: 
 
 "Answer my question first, Bill." For a mo- 
 ment Bill stared at him in amazement, and then 
 he cried :
 
 THE WORST FOE. 135 
 
 "Darned ef ye aint a good shot, dandy, but I 
 bet ye can't lick me, " at the same time taking 
 one or two steps toward Mark. But the well- 
 dressed boy, much to his astonishment, met him 
 half way, and taking him by the arms looked 
 him in the face and said: "I am not going to 
 fight you, Bill, for I have quit fighting. I am 
 larger and stronger and better muscled than you, 
 so, you see, I would have no trouble in whip- 
 ping you." 
 
 "Yer lie, yer never licked any body." 
 
 "I wish I never had. But I tell you I will 
 not fight, I leave that for the dogs. ' ' 
 
 "Yer a little upstart yer a dandy." 
 
 "Well, if good clothes makes a dandy, I 
 always was one, I can't help it. I'm not to 
 blame because my father's well off. If you do 
 not believe I am the strongest, I will wrestle 
 with you and hold you down until you agree 
 not to fight." 
 
 "I'll do it," said Bill. "Yer the first dandy I 
 ever seed that 'd take a friendly tussle wi' a poor 
 boy. Wont yer take off yer coat, I don't like 
 to dirty it." 
 
 "No, never mind are you ready?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Mark's foot darted out like lightning and 
 tripped Bill to the ground, where he held him 
 despite all his struggles. 
 
 "I'll give up," he said at last.
 
 136 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "Wont say anything more about fighting?" 
 No answer came. "I intend to hold you here 
 until you promise not to fight, for I came here 
 to talk to you and your sister. A lady sent me 
 to see you." 
 
 "Jinny" who had been standing looking si- 
 lently on, wondering where on earth that boy 
 came from, when she heard a lady's name spoken 
 she hastened up to him and asked : 
 
 "I say, boy, is she a rich lady ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Lives in a big house with a little house on 
 top ?" 
 
 "Yes, and has everything she wants. This 
 lady is coming to see you." 
 
 "I wont say nuthin' about lickin' yer let me 
 up," said Bill Barnes. "Swear t' God '11 keep 
 quiet. What 's yer name ?" 
 
 "Mark Day, and you are Bill Barnes," he 
 answered, at the same time letting him up. 
 "This, I guess, is Jennie, your sister." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 In a few minutes they were all seated on the 
 ground, in the shade of the house, talking very 
 pleasantly. Mark was telling them of Mission 
 Hall and how well they would be treated there. 
 Bill Barnes, who had but one idea of treat, 
 which was the bar-room idea, asked what kind 
 of liquor they kept. Mark told him they had 
 no kind of drinks, but nice books and papers
 
 MARK DAY AS A MISSIONARY. 
 intend to hold you here till you promise not to fight. See page 136.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 137 
 
 were given to the scholars, who were taught .to 
 read, sing and dress well. This evidently suited 
 Jennie, for she smiled agreeably. 
 
 "Other boys and girls have promised to come, 
 and we want you to come also. Day after to- 
 morrow this good lady and Tare coming here to- 
 gether to see you about it." 
 
 "Gosh, I can't go there," said Bill, "I aint 
 got no clothes but these 'ere. " 
 
 " Yes you can," said Mark, "I have lots of 
 clothes and I will bring you some." 
 
 "Bully for you, could yer bring Jinny some, 
 too ?" 
 
 "We'll fix you all up so you can go." 
 
 "We'll be to hum when the leddy comes," 
 said Bill. As Mark was going away, he heard 
 Jennie say : 
 
 "I'll smut yer yet fer duckin' me in that 'er 
 water, see 'f I don't, Bill." 
 
 Pauline and Mark made their visit according 
 to arrangements, and, though Pauline found 
 much to shock her religious nature, she felt very 
 much encouraged. Here was a field of labor in 
 which the harvest was ripe. As they rode home 
 in Pauline's coupe she said : 
 
 "Mark, your missionary work bids fair to be 
 a success." 
 
 "I hope it will," he answered thoughtfully, 
 "but let us wait a few weeks and see how well 
 these children attend. ' '
 
 138 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 The Sabbath following nearly all those children 
 were at Mission Hall. Hannah Brown had 
 wonderful things to tell her grandmother when 
 she returned home, the most pleasant of which 
 was, that no box was passed for money. 
 
 "They explained that the c'lections were taken 
 up at other Sunday Schools t' s'port our 'n,"said 
 Hannah.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ONCE MORE A MAN. 
 
 "Yet less the pang when, through the tedious hourSj. 
 Remembrance sheds around her genial showers, 
 Calls back the vanished days to rapture given, 
 When love was bliss, and beauty formed our heaven.'* 
 
 Byron. 
 
 T> Y the time William Strasmore had returned, 
 ** George Hammond had formed the determi- 
 nation to conquer the evil within him and be- 
 once more a man. As William entered the room, 
 George rose and grasping his hand, said : 
 
 "Through you I have conquered, and will 
 conquer* When I found that door locked my 
 first impulse was to break it down, but my better 
 j udgment had not been entirely destroyed, and I 
 knew full well that you were doing it for my own 
 good. The worst foe to myself and family was. 
 locked out until I had time to arm myself to fight 
 it. Now I am resolved to cut my way through, 
 and conquer my old enemy." 
 
 "May God help you!" ejaculated William, 
 devoutly. "I believe you will conquer, but try 
 to overcome your doubts lest they destroy your 
 faith, for if you h*ve not faith to appeal to your 
 
 139
 
 I4O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Heavenly Father, you are in a sad state indeed. " 
 
 "I have often asked myself to-day why I fell 
 the first time," said George, thoughtfully. 
 ' 'There was no excuse for me I was forewarned, 
 for I had long been a witness to the misery of 
 intemperance, and hated its works, and yet I be- 
 came a victim. I hate myself when I think how 
 foolish I have been." 
 
 "Don't talk so, my friend, you should be 
 thankful that although the evil still exists, you 
 are not past redemption. Have you fixed on 
 any definite course of action for the future ? " 
 
 "Yes, but I will be governed somewhat by cir- 
 cumstances. I had intended going West, but 
 was waiting to make suitable arrangements for 
 taking my father's family with me ; but I will 
 wait no longer. I will go as soon as I can, and 
 make arrangements to take care of them after- 
 ward. I long to get away from my old asso- 
 ciates and begin life among a new class of people 
 where I will not be so sorely tempted." 
 
 William told George that a carriage was wait- 
 ing to take them on the promised drive, and 
 George being ready they hastened down to it. 
 Earth was giving thanks to the sun for the gra- 
 cious smiles, and luxuriant beauty in vermillion 
 and emerald was to be seen on every hand. They 
 left the town and drove out into the country. 
 The rain of the night before had quieted the 
 rising dust, and man could gratefully enjoy the
 
 THE WORST FOE. 14! 
 
 brightness and freshness of the day. Birds 
 were singing from their leafy bowers, and all na- 
 ture seemed to have donned her holiday attire. 
 
 William Strasmore resolved not to allow George 
 Hammond to escape him. He had begun the 
 good work of reformation, and he determined 
 to keep it up until he had succeeded in effectually 
 eradicating the evil in this talented young man. 
 Two weeks later, as they were driving together 
 in the park, one would hardly think this neat, 
 intelligent looking young man was the bloated to- 
 per who had been taken from the ditch. True there 
 yet lingered about his face some of the evidences 
 of debauchery. He was not as strong and pure 
 as before he gave way to dissipation. The 
 thoughtless young man who indulges in a de- 
 bauch will not escape scot free ; injured nature 
 will sooner or later bring retribution on the one 
 who dares insult her. They passed Pauline and 
 her mother who were out driving, and William 
 by lifting his hat and bowing, acknowledged their 
 smiles of recognition. George Hammond knew 
 them, though it had been years since he had seen 
 either; and they, in his changed condition failed 
 to recognize him. 
 
 "How bright and beautiful Pauline has grown, " 
 said George Hammond with a sigh. 
 
 "Yes, and her beauty of character outrivals 
 the beauty of her face," said William enthusias- 
 tically. "George, she is to be my wife."
 
 142 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 George started violently, and a look of pain 
 swept over his face, but in a few moments it was 
 gone, and gaining control over his feelings, he 
 .solemnly said : 
 
 "I know no other more worthy of you. May 
 God bless you both." 
 
 "You cannot dispense with God in common 
 conversation, even though you doubt his exist- 
 ence," said our hero. 
 
 "It is a habit, a custom," George answered, 
 gloomily. 
 
 "But we all have the habit, and I think it is 
 really something more powerful than a habit. 
 The idea of a God of some kind seems innate in 
 the human consciousness. Why is it that you never 
 find a savage too low in the scale of civilization, 
 not to have some idea of a supreme being? It 
 maybe God, Great Spintor Josh, but it is always 
 the one idea of infinite power. When in distress 
 it is as natural to call on our Heavenly Father for 
 aid as it is for the child when injured to run to its 
 mother. Turn Christian, George, it will help 
 you ; it will be one bright ray in your clouded 
 existence. It is not the wealth which makes 
 Mrs. Denesmore and her daughter so bright and 
 happy, but the Christian spirit shining from pure 
 souls within." 
 
 George Hammond sighed, and William Stras- 
 more misinterpreting his distress, said : 
 
 ' 'I suppose you are not acquainted with Miss 
 Denesmore."
 
 THE WORST FOE. 143 
 
 "Yes I am," said George in a hot, jerky man- 
 ner, which betrayed a strange emotion. "We 
 went to school together when children, though 
 I was a big boy and she a little girl. She and 
 sister Deena were of the same age, and great 
 friends. But after we quit grammar school, she 
 was sent away to a female academy, and we 
 never saw her any more. I hope she will never 
 know how I have fallen, for she will hate me 
 worse than I hate myself." 
 
 "You are mistaken, George. She knows ot 
 your fall, and you have her warmest sympathy. " 
 
 "Who told her? " George asked sharply. 
 
 "Mark Day." 
 
 "Some more of the work of the Day family," 
 and William was astounded to see the furious 
 glances which darted from the eyes of George 
 Hammond. After a few moments, George grew 
 calmer and he added, "Mark is a very bad boy 
 is he not ? " 
 
 "He was a very bad boy at one time, but now 
 he promises to be an exceptionally good lad. 
 He is rather odd it is true, and adheres to some 
 of his old but least exceptionable traits. His 
 fun loving nature gets him into little scrapes even 
 yet. I met him after he had told Pauline ot 
 your troubles, and with his face as sober as a 
 judge he began in his odd way : 'You'd better 
 go to Pauline for I left her awfully blue. I told 
 her about an old chum of her's getting drunk.
 
 144 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 I didn't know it was a particular chum you know, 
 but it was, and she went to crying. I don't 
 know what ought to be done with me for making 
 her cry, but I guess if any one can cheer her up 
 it's you. ' When I found Pauline she was still 
 in tears, George, and for you." 
 
 George's lips quivered, but he dare not speak, 
 and William continued : ' 'She told me something 
 of your boyhood, how hopeful she and all your 
 friends were of you, although you had little at 
 home to encourage you. But she blames herself 
 very much for your downfall. She says you 
 were separated by circumstances, and had almost 
 dropped out of her mind until she heard of you 
 from Mark. She is pleased at your good reso- 
 lution, and determination to leave the city where 
 temptation awaits you on every hand." 
 
 ' 'She should not censure herself for my wrong 
 doing." said George, as William stopped talking. 
 
 "I am not so sure of that," William replied. 
 "Pauline did not intentionally err, but like many 
 others on this important question of temperance, 
 thought she was not her brothers' keeper. Paul- 
 ine realized your peculiar position, and wanted 
 to keep up her friendly social feeling with 
 yourself and sister, though you seemed to grow 
 cool and distant. This she attributed to your 
 sister's sensitiveness regarding the difference in 
 your social scales, and only respected you the 
 more for it. Her circle of friends was very large,
 
 THE WORST FOE. 145 
 
 and she finally let you drop. This is the 
 way of the world, and it is wrong. Had she 
 kept alive the friendship and interest she really 
 felt in you, you might have been encouraged to 
 keep in the right path. She could have cheered 
 your sister's lonely heart and encouraged you. 
 When do you leave for the West?" 
 
 "To-morrow evening." 
 
 "Then Pauline and I will call at your house 
 this evening, and rekindle the fires of friendship 
 which beamed so brightly years ago, and we will 
 try to cheer and comfort your sisters and mother 
 until you send for them to join you in your west- 
 ern home." 
 
 That evening when William and Pauline called 
 at the miserable cottage of Joe Hammond, Mo- 
 denia met them at the door with mingled feelings 
 of pleasure and pain. She longed, and yet 
 feared to greet her school-mate as warmly as she 
 had of old, and when Pauline threw her arms 
 about her neck and kissed her as tenderly as she 
 used to do in the days of her childhood, poor 
 crushed Modenia broke down and shed copious 
 floods of tears while Pauline pressed her to her 
 breast. As soon as she could, Deena recovered 
 her self-possession, and the cheerful manner of 
 Pauline brought a smile again to her face, and a 
 slight tint to her cheek. Mrs. Hammond who 
 was now able to walk about, joined the group, 
 ami Lillie sang sweet baby songs, and her young 
 
 \0)
 
 146 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 heart was strangely gladdened. All seemed to 
 exist in a brighter atmosphere than they had ever 
 before known. George was cheerful, and bright 
 hopes of the future seemed to dawn for the 
 Hammonds. Pauline proposed that they form 
 a little party from those present to accompany 
 George to the depot and see him off on the train 
 next evening. At mention of George's depart- 
 ure, a sad look came over Mrs. Hammond's 
 features, and her eyes filled with tears. Pauline 
 who discovered the struggle now going on in the 
 mother's breast, went to her side and said : 
 
 "Mrs. Hammond, William and I have talked 
 it all over, and it is for the best. Of course you 
 will be lonesome, but it will not be for a very 
 long time. George will soon have a beautiful 
 home for you in the great West, and you will all 
 go there." 
 
 But a dread uncertainty had fallen over the 
 group like an unseen mantle, and all brightness 
 and joy were gone. 
 
 ' 'Were it any other temptation than intemper- 
 ance," thought William Strasmore, "he could 
 escape from it. But he may run to the ends of 
 the earth, and the demon still waits for him. 
 THE WORST FOE is before, behind, and on every 
 side, and everywhere ready to seize upon the 
 unwary at an unguarded moment. " 
 
 William longed to tell George' of the powers 
 of faith to save, but that skeptical nature would
 
 THE WORST FOE. 147 
 
 not believe him, and knowing that more earnest 
 appeals than he had made would be useless, he 
 was silent. As William and Pauline rose to go, 
 the door opened, and Joe Hammond, more than 
 half-seas over, entered. 
 
 "W'y, ah! good evenin' ! " he said, steady- 
 ing himself on his unsteady legs as well as he 
 could, while his clothes, features and manners 
 betrayed his condition. 
 
 "My name is Strasmore," said William, going 
 to the inebriate man and taking his hand. ' ' I am 
 glad to meet you, Mr. Hammond, for I've 
 wanted to make your acquaintance for some 
 time." 
 
 * * Ye do ! Well, I guess ye want to lecture 
 me, don't ye ? Well, I I'm a free man, an' 
 know jest what I'm doin'." 
 
 ' ' We called to see your son before he goes 
 away to seek a home in the West. " 
 
 "Yes, George shouldn't go 'way hie fool- 
 ish notion. Don't do no good. Thinks he can't 
 quit drink and stay. All nonsense. Drinkin' 
 a little, ye know, don't hurt anybody don't 
 hurt me." 
 
 "You think it don't? It will be the ruin 
 of your soul and body if you don't quit it. 
 George is right; he see's his danger and flies 
 from temptation." 
 
 ' ' Young man, ye needn't lecture me. Guess 
 I know."
 
 148 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "It is growing late, now, but I will see you 
 some other time under more favorable circum- 
 stances," said William Strasmore. 
 
 Hammond staggered through the room, utter- 
 ing something about meddlesome fools not know- 
 ing when to attend to their own business, and the 
 guests of the Hammonds took their leave. 
 
 The evening for George's departure came. 
 His mother hung sobbing on his neck, and he 
 assured her that he would be firm in his resolu- 
 tion to resist all temptation. Somehow the 
 mother felt impressed that it would be the last 
 time she would ever see her son again. Accom- 
 panied by his sister, Deena, William and Pauline, 
 he set out for the depot. 
 
 Mrs. Hammond, with her face bowed in her 
 hands, wept, unconscious of the little child who 
 stood at her side trying to comfort her. 
 
 "Don't ty, mamma, don't. Dod will tate 
 care of brother. " 
 
 " Mamma's darling !" cried Mrs. Hammond, 
 taking the little form in her arms, "yes, God 
 will take care of us all, my child." 
 
 When George, his sister and friends reached 
 the depot he found the train belated, and his 
 father there to bid him adieu. As usual, his 
 father was in liquor, and declaring himself the 
 happiest man in the world. His bliss was easily 
 disturbed, however, and his family usually took 
 care not to cross him in any way. Seeing that
 
 THE WORST FOE. 149 
 
 tears were in Deena's eyes he staggered up to 
 her and said : 
 
 ' ' No more o' that all nonsense. No use to 
 cry just goin' away short time hie t' sow 
 wild oats. He '11 come back to the old man 
 wiser 'n he went." Then staggering up to 
 George, with a desire to impress all present 
 with his importance, he added: "Well, George, 
 when you git over this wild goose chase, come 
 back. If yer out o' money an* want help, jest 
 call on the old man, ye know hie." 
 
 The train came thundering in at last, and 
 George kissed his sister, bade his father and 
 friends adieu, and went aboard. Deena saw 
 her brother at the window waving his hand- 
 kerchief. She kept up bravely until the train 
 started \ but when his loved form was no longer 
 in sight, she burst into tears. Pauline comforted 
 her the bost she could, and getting in their car- 
 riage they were soon whirling away toward 
 Modenia's humble home. 
 
 George Hammond had gone out into the 
 world to n.eet temptation and trials on every 
 hand. He had fallen once, and might he not 
 fall again ? In the Old World, when oppression 
 and persecution crushes the weak, they turn 
 their fainting eyes to America, the land of the 
 free and home of the brave. The persecuted 
 who have flocked to fair Columbia's shores are 
 legion. They come to this land of freedom
 
 I5O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 because the voice of the people is supreme law. 
 But is there perfect freedom in our glorious Re- 
 public ? Is George Hammond free to act accord- 
 ing to reason ? Did his reason bring him into the 
 ditch ? No ; it was his appetite, his weakness. 
 Is that all ? Behold, the ewe lambs of the poor 
 are being sacrificed hourly in free Columbia, 
 where the voice of the people is supreme law. 
 David's sentence for sacrificing the poor man's 
 lamb was : ' ' Behold, I will raise up evil against 
 thee out of thine own house; the sword shall 
 never depart from thine house." 
 
 We shrink from viewing the future of our 
 American Government. Unless we change we 
 shall soon stand on the tomb of our independ- 
 ence. Put yourself in a mother's or sister's 
 place, when one more precious than a pearl 
 of great price goes forth to be tempted by 
 ruinous, seductive demons on every hand, and 
 then answer if we are free. There is no safety 
 not even a city of refuge into which we may 
 fly. It may be a husband, a son or a brother in 
 bondage, and the wail of anguish, the cry for 
 freedom from the reign of King Alcohol goes 
 up on every side. If you believe not what we 
 say, dear reader, go to any city or town and 
 enter those streets where crime and squalid 
 misery abounds. On every side you will see 
 pale, tear stained faces in the bondage of misery, 
 and bloated, swollen faces in the bondage of in-
 
 THE WORST FOE. 15 1 
 
 temperance, all appealing to you for freedom. 
 Fathers, husbands, brothers, and voters from 
 every quarter of our broad, free land, Modenia 
 Hammond, her mother and thousands of others 
 are crying to you for relief. Do not turn a deaf 
 ear to their wail, but in remembrance of those 
 whom your heart holds most dear, never, never, 
 NEVER, vote for license again. Think of George 
 Hammond on his midnight train trying to fly 
 from a temptation from which there was no 
 escape. Oh, that his earnest supplication could 
 reach every heart. In the anguish of his soul he 
 cries: "Oh, God, if there be a God, keep me 
 in the hour of temptation help me to be a 
 man ! " Poor slave, will your shackles never 
 be broken ? Think, dear reader, when you 
 cast your vote, of the hopes, happiness and 
 prospects that hang thereon and are liable to be 
 blasted or shattered by the casting of that little 
 ballot, and for the sake of those you love, for 
 the good of humanity, for the future welfare of 
 yourself and nation, and for the sake of freedom, 
 
 WTE FOR PROHIBITION.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 LOST TO EARTH, GAINED TO HEAVEN. 
 
 " The world recedes, it disappears ! 
 Heaven opens on my eyes ! My ears 
 With sounds seraphic ring ! 
 Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fly ! 
 O Grave ! where is thy victory ? 
 O Death ! where is thy sting ? " Popt. 
 
 DR. DENESMORE and his beautiful wife 
 might be living in bliss or misery, George 
 Hammond might rise or fall, it mattered not to 
 the inhabitants of the west end of Staunton, and 
 only excited the spiteful comment that the former 
 were stuck-up big-bugs, and the latter no better 
 than other people who didn't try to carry their 
 heads so high. But it is an interesting season 
 at West End. Granny Brown has taken her 
 knitting and gone over to Mrs. Barnes, a thing 
 she has not done for months ; but realizing the 
 fact that she had first cited Mark Day to Bill 
 and "Jinney," she thought she would hint to 
 Mrs. Barnes how much they owed her. Be- 
 sides, it would be very pleasant to communi- 
 cate what " Hannar had heern to the Hall 
 about that young lawyer goin' to m^ ry Miss 
 
 152
 
 THE WORST FOE. 1 53 
 
 Denesmore. " To her chagrin she found that 
 the Barnes knew all about it themselves. 
 
 " Bill heerd all about it himself," said his 
 mother, as soon as granny mentioned the sub- 
 ject. "We all think its the best kind o' a 
 match. Both on 'em are so kind, allers remem- 
 berin' the pore. I wish we had more sich peo- 
 ple." Then lowering her voice she added : "I 
 tell ye, granny, ef there was more such men as 
 Lawyer Strasmore, our men wouldn't drink 
 much longer he'd make 'em ashamed o' their 
 selves." 
 
 "Sam says a man 'ts mean 'nough to git 
 drunk will drink anyhow, an' no 'n can help 
 it," said Granny Brown, with no little emphasis. 
 Mrs. Barnes at last seemed to realize the supe- 
 riority of the Browns, and granny became quite 
 agreeable. She remained until late, when she 
 declared she must go, as " Sam'l wanted all his 
 folks home at meal time." 
 
 There are many like Granny Brown, who go 
 through life grumblers and cynics, because no- 
 one seems to realize their superiority. One 
 acknowledging glance might put them in as 
 amiable frame of mind as it did Mrs. Brown. 
 She praised the general favorite of West End, 
 William Strasmore, said she knew there was 
 nothing common about Miss Denesmore, and 
 slyly told Mrs. Barnes that "Jinney is gittin^ 
 right peert lookin'."
 
 154 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 In higher circles, as well as among the lowly, 
 Strasmore was a theme for discussion. Sensible 
 parents pointed to him as a model for their grow- 
 ing sons. Only three or four years had he been 
 among them, and unknown and poor, he had 
 reached such a place in his profession that all 
 looked on him in admiration. Only one day 
 more until he was to wed the woman who was 
 dearer to him than all the world beside. Never 
 had a friendly world smiled more promisingly on 
 a coming union. 
 
 Pauline was arrayed in her wedding costume 
 just to see how it would fit. It was a dress of 
 white corded silk, long square train, skirt front 
 trimmed with narrow plaitings of the same ovei 
 drapery, with orange-blossom fringe ; tulle veil, 
 fastened with a wreath of orange blossoms. 
 Her father, mother and Mark Day, who spent 
 most of his time at Mr. Denesmore's, were called 
 in to admire her costume. 
 
 " Maria wouldn't put on all her outfit before 
 her wedding day," said Mark. 
 
 " Why? " asked Mrs. Denesmore. 
 
 ' ' She said it was bad luck. Wouldn't she 
 be scotching if she knew that I told on her? 
 But I wish you hadn't put on that wreath, Pau- 
 line. What if it should be bad luck ? " 
 
 " It will fail this time, and prove to the super- 
 stitious that bad omens are fallible," said Pauline 
 gaily ; then, to change the subject, she added :
 
 THE WORST FOE. 155 
 
 1 ' So you say, Mark, that Ernest will not be 
 here to-morrow ? " 
 
 " No ! I told him I thought it shabby in him 
 to go off just before your wedding. He said 
 business before pleasure, but on such extra 
 occasions as marriages or funerals, business 
 ought to be set aside." Glancing from the 
 window he saw William Strasmore coming up 
 the walk toward the house, and assuring Pauline 
 that he would be on hand on the morrow, Mark 
 excused himself and left the house. Her father 
 and mother also left the room, that William 
 might meet his bride in her wedding attire 
 alone. She met him, and a smile of pleasure 
 was on the face of her future husband. 
 
 " My Pauline ! " he said, clasping her in his 
 arms. 
 
 In a few moments they were sitting on the 
 sofa, side by side, talking as only lovers can. 
 
 ' ' Ernest Day says he cannot be at our wed- 
 ding," said Pauline. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " He left the city three days ago on business." 
 
 ' ' Strange ! It's not usual for him to be so 
 engrossed in business. I hope it does not dis- 
 appoint him, however. Had we not better call 
 on Mrs. Hammond this evening, Pauline ? " 
 
 ' ' Yes, we had better make them a farewell 
 call ? Deena said that she dreaded our two 
 weeks' absence. They have not heard from
 
 j 56 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 George, yet; lam afraid he has falleq again.'* 
 
 " I have strong faith in George's firmness. If 
 there ever was a man who had will power suffi- 
 cient to resist temptation it is he. Bat we know 
 there are few who of themselves citn resist. I 
 shall not lose faith in him, unless he compels me 
 by his own acts to do so. It is strange that he 
 has not written home very strange. He may 
 be ill." 
 
 " He may, but they have suffered so much 
 from intemperance that they lay every ill to it. 
 It is fearful to contemplate the woe caused by 
 intemperance." 
 
 ' ' I know it, Pauline. None are safe while the 
 evil is allowed to exist among us." 
 
 Shuddering, the bride-elect said : " If I should 
 see my loved ones going to destruction as Deena 
 has, it would surely break my heart." 
 
 " Let us hope, Pauline, that you never may," 
 said William. '* But you are to grow stronger 
 through trials and suffering. Often great trials 
 are for the good of humanity, for one never 
 realizes the sorrows of others until placed in the 
 furnace of affliction. This talk is unnecessary, 
 Pauline, for you will only see the shadow of 
 such trials." 
 
 "I can make an effort to relieve others with- 
 out being tried in the furnace. Guy would 
 smile if he heard such sober talk from me. He 
 would want to know who I most feared would
 
 THE WORST FOE. I 57 
 
 fall, father, you or himself. If ever I have 
 great sorrow it will be I that make it. I fear 
 that my future will be so pleasant that I will for- 
 get all about the sorrows of others, and you will 
 be too kind to remind me that I am growing 
 selfish." 
 
 "Never fear, Pauline, there's not a selfish trait 
 in the Denesmore family. If there had been 
 much selfishness about Guy, I would have dis- 
 covered it in our college days. I will go now. 
 I just came to see how my bride would look to- 
 morrow, and to ask you to go with me to Mrs. 
 Hammond's this evening." 
 
 When left alone, Pauline, with just the least 
 bit of vanity so natural to woman, surveyed her- 
 self again in the mirror and said : 
 
 "It's as nice as I could ask. All are pleased 
 with it, and I could not find it in my heart, even 
 if it did not suit me, to quarrel with the poor, 
 little, tired seamstress who has labored so faith- 
 fully to please me. What sober thoughts for 
 me to have, and what sober talk for William, on 
 the eve of our wedding, too." She called the 
 seamstress, who was waiting in an adjoining 
 apartment to remove her dress. "Miss Briggs, 
 you may take them off now, if you please. 
 Did you ever hear that it was bad luck for one 
 to have on her wedding outfit before her wed- 
 ding day?" 
 
 "Yes mam, but there is nothing in it. If any-
 
 Ij8 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 thing bad does happen, they lay it to that, and 
 if it does'nt happen it's forgotten. You need 
 not worry about it. " 
 
 "I shall not, for I am not superstitious. Miss 
 Briggs, would you like a vacation before com- 
 mencing our work for the autumn. Mamma 
 will be very lonesome while I am gone, and if 
 you could stay with her until we return, and 
 walk or drive with her and keep her company, 
 while you rest, it would be so pleasant for her." 
 
 Miss Briggs was gratefully surprised, and 
 thanked Miss Pauline very much. Pauline was 
 ready when William came to take her to see 
 Mrs. Hammond and Deena. It was late when they 
 returned, and as William Strasmore sat by her 
 side in the parlor he said : 
 
 "There is one beautiful picture before my 
 eyes which will never fade. It is the picture of 
 my bride for to-morrow as she first appeared in 
 her robes." 
 
 "I have a jewel of a thought in the knowledge 
 .of a true man's love, a love of which no earthly 
 power can deprive me. " 
 
 "Pauline, do not forget that earth is a power. 
 It is not well to place our affections on an 
 earthly idol. Integrity alone can fortify us fora 
 stormy life." 
 
 "Don't talk of a stormy life," said Pauline 
 drawing closer to him. "Why can't we avoid 
 sad topics to-day. "
 
 THE WORST FOE. 159 
 
 "Because we are thoughtful," he answered 
 with a sad smile. "I must be going now, so 
 think no more of our talk." 
 
 He arose, and she followed him to the door. 
 The moon was shining bright and clear, but a few 
 dark clouds were flitting over the face of the 
 sky. He had kissed her good-night and started 
 down the walk, when suddenly he seemed seized 
 by an irresistible impulse, and returning to her 
 side as she stood in the entrance, he clasped 
 her in his warm embrace, and kissed her again 
 and again on lips and forehead, murmuring with 
 unspeakable tenderness : 
 
 "May Heaven shield and protect you my 
 darling my life my all." 
 
 She heard and knew all, but before she could 
 speak he was gone, and she was sitting alone in 
 front of the window watching his retreating 
 figure. 
 
 "What does it all mean?" she asked herself 
 with a sigh, and then as the clock in the hall 
 struck midnight she hastily arose and went to 
 her bed-room and was soon in the land of 
 dreams. 
 
 Why did William send up a petition for the 
 protection of his beloved Pauline as he imprinted 
 a kiss on her forehead. Did he doubt himself, 
 or was it the admonition from the other and 
 better world, impressing him that she would 
 need his prayers, and the remembrance of his
 
 l6O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 parting benediction would be a solace in the 
 dark days that were to come. It is well that the 
 veil screening the future cannot be lifted. If 
 Pauline could have seen what the morrow held 
 in store for her, could she have borne it as well 
 as when that morrow came ? No, ' 'according to 
 the day is the strength thereof with His own." 
 To-morrow is only the beginning of the sorrowful 
 years which will follow, but "He giveth His be- 
 loved rest." 
 
 The same impulse which led William back to 
 Pauline's side, caused him to leave the house at 
 a rapid pace. His way led down the avenue 
 and across a common on which still remained a 
 few giant oaks, the last of a once mighty forest, 
 standing far apart like grim sentinels. Did he see 
 that dark form crouching behind one of those great 
 oaks, and did he know that those basilisk eyes 
 had been on him since he had left the house of 
 his intended wife ? No. With the prayer still on 
 his lips for the one he loves most dear, he con- 
 tinues on his way. The moon, which has shone 
 in such magnificent splendor all the evening, 
 suddenly hides her face behind a dark cloud as 
 though unwilling to be a witness to the scene 
 which is to follow. As William is passing one of 
 those tall, sentry-like oaks, there is a blinding 
 flash, a sharp, quick report, and with a stifled 
 groan he staggers and falls upon the ground to 
 rise no more. The dark assassin now emerges
 
 THE WORST FOE. l6l 
 
 from behind the tree, and gazing on his victim, 
 hisses through teeth set with passion : 
 
 "One temperance fanatic and one meddling 
 fool less." 
 
 Who will say it was not that loving mother, 
 whose memory had ever been fondly cherished 
 by her son, who first welcomed him across the 
 dark river ? Was it not her gentle voice that 
 tenderly explained to him the glorious change. 
 The ills of life all passed he had entered into his 
 rest. Was it not at her side he knelt while the 
 great love of his soul poured out a thanksgiving 
 to the Author of his being, that he had at last 
 come to enjoy an eternal existence. The short 
 probation of earth was over and he had entered 
 into an eternal abode with the blest. 
 
 The sad moon peeped out from behind the 
 cloud like a frightened creature. A dark form, 
 as motionless as a stone, lay beneath the tree. 
 The hat had rolled away and the wind was gently 
 playing with that auburn hair, growing every mo- 
 ment more damp in the falling dew. 
 
 Oh, Pauline bride of the morrow how can 
 you sleep so sweetly and peacefully on your 
 downy bed, when he, whom you love dearer 
 than life, lies so cold and rigid on the bare earth, 
 out there alone. 
 
 01)
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 AT THE HOME OF HIS CHILDHOOD. 
 
 "Here first remembered be the joyous band, 
 Who hailed him chief, obedient to command, 
 Whojoined with him in every boyish sport, 
 Their first adviser and thrir last resort." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 FROM a sweet refreshing sleep Pauline awoke 
 on the morning that was to be her wedding 
 day. She arose, made a hasty toilet, and kneel- 
 ing by her bedside said her prayers. Then aris- 
 ing she went to the window and drew the cur- 
 tain aside and looked out upon the beautiful 
 world. The sun, which had risen an hour or 
 more, was shining in all its splendor, as she 
 looked out upon the lawn and grove where the 
 mocking-birds dwelt. She tried to banish the 
 sad presentiments which would occasionally steal 
 over her. 
 
 "This is unnatural for me," she said to her- 
 self pressing her face against the window-pane, 
 "I am usually light-hearted. Why is this? I 
 wish Willie was here ! I declare, I am trembling, 
 and I wonder what makes me do so. I will go 
 
 162
 
 THE WORST FOE. 163 
 
 to mother, for I must not be so nervous when 
 it's to be our wedding day." 
 
 Her heart almost stilled its beating at this mo- 
 ment for she heard sounds of alarm and excite- 
 ment below. Was it reality or was it only her 
 fancy, for she was sure she heard some one 
 sobbing. Her heart wildly beating and her 
 breath coming by short gasps at the certainty of 
 some impending evil, she hastened down below. 
 A cloud of anguish was about to hover over the 
 pathway of the pure and innocent Pauline. She 
 went to her mother's room with all the calmness 
 she could assume, but neither of her parents 
 were there. With mingled doubts and fears she 
 ran to the sitting-room, and after casting one 
 glance on the tear-stained faces within, she sank 
 with a groan upon a seat near the door. Her 
 mother, Maria and Miss Briggs were weeping 
 violently, and her father, who sat by the window, 
 had his face buried in his hands. Guy hastened 
 to her side, and starting to her feet she wildly 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "What is it, Guy? Oh ! tell me!" 
 
 Very tenderly her brother led her back to the 
 sofa, and seating himself at her side, while he 
 held both her hands in his, he said : 
 
 "Sister, a great sorrow is waiting for you; we 
 all pity you, poor little girl but the burden of 
 this grief you must bear alone. Can you bear it 
 bravely?"
 
 1 64 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Her eyes wandered from one to another; 
 every particle of color had left her face, and yet 
 when she spoke her voice had an alarming calm- 
 ness about it. 
 
 "I can bear it," she said. "Anything is 
 better than this suspense. This is of William. 
 Tell me all, Guy what has happened him?" 
 What did she suspect had happened him what 
 could she suspect ? Certainly she did not realize 
 the worst. Drawing her toward him, in as gentle 
 a tone as he could, her brother said : 
 
 "Pauline sister, your noble William is 
 dead." 
 
 A piercing scream rang through the room, 
 she started up as if stricken by a death throe, 
 and sank unconscious into her brother's arms. 
 It was but a slight swoon, however, for she soon 
 recovered and lay pale and motionless on her 
 brother's shoulder, but no other sound escaped 
 her lips and her eyes were as yet tearless. After 
 a few moments she spoke in a faint whisper, and 
 asked her brother to tell her all. Guy told all 
 he knew of the tragedy, which was a very 
 meagre account, as the assassin had escaped and 
 nothing was known of him or his motive. She 
 listened with a calmness far more terrible than 
 the most violent grief. After a few moments 
 silence, broken only by the sobs of the weeping 
 women, she asked : 
 
 "Have you telegraphed to Mr. Johns?"
 
 THE WORST FOE. 1 6$ 
 
 " I have," he answered. 
 
 " That is well. We intended going there on 
 our bridal tour, but we will go there any way. 
 It will be quite different from what we intended, 
 but Willie shall be laid to rest by his mother's 
 side. Will you go with us ? " 
 
 ' ' Yes, Pauline, I will be with you, and will 
 attend to all. But this shock I see is too much 
 for you ; you must let me lead you back to your 
 chamber, where you can rest in quiet." 
 
 She consented to be taken back to her room, 
 but the feelings and emotions which seemed at 
 that dark hour to crush her young life are 
 beyond description. In her room she gazed 
 about in stony silence. Oh, if she was only 
 now as when she left that apartment to go 
 below. Could it all be true ? Might it not 
 possibly be some horrid dream ? No ! no ! it 
 was a sad, a terrible reality. She was silent, 
 and paid no attention to the many questions 
 propounded to her. No tears, no words, 
 nothing but a stony, silent grief. 
 
 Her brother was at her side, but all his tender 
 words could not move her to tears. The day 
 passed in gloom and sorrow. It was the first 
 gloomy day the Denesmores had ever known, 
 and was in reality the darkest of their lives. 
 They watched by the couch of their loved one, 
 who seemed a breathing corpse. At times she 
 closed her eyes, and at others gave a glassy
 
 1 66 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 stare at those around her. Guy's scientific in- 
 vestigation was of no avail. Three or four of 
 the best physicians were called in consultation, 
 and quiet was recommended 
 
 Late in the evening Deena Hammond was 
 announced and shown up to the room where 
 the poor, stricken creature lay. Deena was 
 quite overcome with the change wrought by a 
 few short hours. Pauline evidently heard her 
 sobs, for she turned her face toward her. 
 
 " Oh, Pauline ! 'tis hard, I know 'tis hard, to 
 part with him ; but to you is given the precious 
 privilege of weeping for him." A tear, the first 
 she had yet shed, was now seen trickling down 
 her cheek, and a moment later others followed, 
 chasing each other rapidly down her marble 
 face, while convulsive sobs began to heave her 
 breast. 
 
 "My God! did one ever witness such grief 
 before ! " said Guy aside to a brother physician, 
 who had remained in charge of the case. After 
 a few moments' weeping and sobbing, Pauline 
 spoke, her voice expressing a deeper woe than 
 can possibly be described. 
 
 " Oh, Deena! it's such a blessing to weep for 
 him. He said that we were often tried in the 
 furnace of affliction and found solace in trying to 
 relieve others. Heaven grant that I may find 
 strength to carry out the blessed work he has 
 begun."
 
 THE WORST FOE. l6/ 
 
 They wept together and talked of the dear 
 departed until midnight; and then, by the ad- 
 ministration of narcotics, Pauline fell asleep and 
 Deena stole quietly away. During the night 
 arrangements were made to convey the body of 
 William Strasmore to its last resting place. 
 
 ******* 
 
 All was bustle ana generous excitement at the 
 home of William Strasmore's foster parents. All 
 was joy at the expected return of William with 
 his new bride. The news of the wedding had 
 spread all over the neighborhood, and the many 
 who had known William only to love him, were 
 looking forward with pleasure to the time when 
 they would see him again. All his former friends 
 were invited, and his coming marriage revived 
 the bygone days of his and their childhood. 
 William was a favorite among the boys and 
 girls, and his coming back home with a young 
 and handsome bride was an anticipated pleasure. 
 
 The pretty Mrs. Bloomer, still young, though 
 she had been a wife nine years, and a mother 
 seven, was busily engaged with her sewing, 
 while her mind went back to the days when 
 she, a little girl, played with William Strasmore, 
 and blushed even yet at the recollection of being 
 called his little sweetheart. She remembered 
 how spunky John Bloomer grew at such 
 assertions, and recalled many an incident which 
 gave her pleasure and pain. She remembered
 
 1 68 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 most distinctly the night William Strasmore 
 walked home with her from spelling-school, and 
 praised his friend, John Bloomer, and told Be- 
 linda she could never possess the love of a bet- 
 ter, truer man than he. She felt a disappoint- 
 ment at the time, but after William was fairly 
 out of the way, concluded that his advice was 
 the best, and decided to take it. She found 
 that William had spoken truly, for a better, 
 truer man than John Bloomer never lived. 
 
 At this moment Mrs. Bloomer's little girl 
 came into the room with a rush, leaving the 
 door open behind her, and throwing her cape in 
 one corner of the room, her bonnet in the other, 
 and dropping her dinner basket in the center, 
 with eyes sparkling with excitement, began : 
 
 "Say, ma ! can't I go with you to Mr. Johns' ? 
 I'll wash all the dishes, peel the 'taters, pick up 
 chips, and rock the cradle without cryin' for 
 two weeks. Charley Jones says it '11 be 's good 
 as a circus, 'cause they 're goin' to have a long 
 table set, with a live-roasted stuffed turkey an' a 
 pig in the centre o' the table, and I've never 
 seen a circus, or a live turkey stuffed, neither ; 
 and they are goin' to have a bride's cake, and I 
 never saw a bride's cake. Say, ma ! can I go, 
 please?" 
 
 "Do be quiet, child, you've made me stick my 
 finger with the needle." 
 
 " Helloa ! " called a voice from the front gate.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 169 
 
 "There's Charley Jones now on Mr. Johns' 
 horse," said Mrs. Bloomer, " wonder what he 
 wants ? ' ' The little girl, followed by her mother, 
 went to the front gate. 
 
 "There haint goin' to be no infair at Mr. 
 Johns', Miss Bloomer," cried Charley, his eyes 
 expressive of excitement. "Their son Will's 
 dead'n some one's goin' to bring him here to bury 
 him by his mother. Mr. Johns sent me here to 
 see if Mr. Bloomer 'd go for that preacher that 
 Will used to like." 
 
 "Yes, yes. Oh, Willie! Willie dead!" cried 
 Mrs. Bloomer, leaning against the gate for sup- 
 port. 
 
 ^c ^c % if: % >|c ^c 
 
 It was a dismal day when Guy Denesmore, in 
 charge of the remains, got off at the little depot 
 nearest Mr. Johns. A hearse and long procession 
 of wagons and carriages were awaiting their 
 arrival. It was two miles to the quiet, unpreten- 
 tious country church, at which William, when a 
 very little child, had first learned to worship God. 
 Wagons, vehicles and horsemen joined the pro- 
 cession, until it became a large one, when they 
 reached the church. 
 
 The funeral text was, "Mark the perfect man, 
 and behold the upright, for the end of that man. 
 is peace." Psa. 37:37. The minister was one of 
 those unassuming yet impressive men, whose 
 sermons dwell long in the hearts of his hearers.
 
 i/O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 There was no effort at either rhetorical or oratori- 
 cal display. After alluding to the noble character 
 of the deceased, he sketched in a rapid manner his 
 early childhood, vicissitudes and trials, and then 
 mentioned his strong religious nature and his 
 consecration to the cause of temperance. No 
 one ever associated with William Strasmore with- 
 out feeling better for having done so. His life 
 bears testimony to the fulfillment of the promise 
 ' ' Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His right- 
 eousness ; and all these things shall be added unto 
 you." The good man's house was always kept 
 in order, so that when at an unexpected hour, in 
 the vigor of life and dawn of manhood and use- 
 fulness, death claimed him without a moment's 
 warning, it was well with his soul. He alluded 
 to the dark crime which had deprived this world 
 and these friends of the usefulness of William 
 Strasmore. It was yet a mystery, and surmise 
 at most could say it was some revengeful fanatic, 
 driven crazy by intoxication, who in a fit of 
 frenzy had destroyed the very man who would 
 save him. William Strasmore only added one 
 more to the many martyrs who had given up 
 their lives for humanity. This death would react 
 against the rumseller more than a thousand lec- 
 turers in the field. Most feelingly did he allude 
 to the young, beautiful and accomplished be- 
 trothed of the deceased. "Next day he was to 
 have wed one in every way worthy to be his
 
 THE WORST FOE. 17! 
 
 wife ; but his bride was death. She is prostrated 
 with grief and horror, and unable to accompany 
 the remains of one whom she holds dearer than 
 her own life, to the grave. While we are all 
 bowed down with grief at the loss of one so 
 grand and noble, cut down in the flower of h's 
 manhood, we have the comforting assurance, that 
 beyond this land of woe and disappointment, 
 William Strasmore has entered into that land of 
 eternal peace, where night never comes. Oh 
 that the comforting word of grace may find its 
 \vay to the heart of his mourning bride, and may 
 she look forward with bright hopes and anticipa- 
 tions to that day, when she will join him in that 
 celestial city not made with hands, but eternal 
 in the heavens ; and dwell with the Lord forever 
 and ever. " 
 
 The funeral sermon was deep and impressive 
 in its simplicity, and at the conclusion there was 
 scarcely a dry eye in the audience. As Guy 
 Denesmore heard the clods fall upon the coffin 
 of his friend who was to have been his brother, 
 it seemed like the tolling of his own death bell. 
 "Earth to earth, and dust to dust." Oh, how 
 all stood with hushed voices around that rapidly 
 filling grave. What a dark hour it must be to 
 the skeptic as he hears that sound, and from the 
 depths of his infidel reasoning, says : ' 'That is 
 all. There is nothing beyond. All is dark 
 despair ; there is no joy, not a ray of hope."
 
 1/2 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "Will you go now, doctor?" asked a voice 
 at the side of Dr. Denesmore. He started from 
 that painful reverie into which he had fallen and 
 gazed about him. The grave was almost filled, 
 and the people had nearly all gone away. He 
 paused but a moment to gaze upon the marble 
 slab which bore the name of William's mother. 
 The story of her sufferings, trials and heroic 
 death was known to him, and now the sight of 
 that plain marble slab seemed to impress him 
 with a strange awe. As he went away, Guy 
 sighed : 
 
 "Oh, William ! it is hard to leave you here. 
 Poor Pauline ! dark indeed must be the world to 
 her."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 ALONE. 
 
 "Away ! ye know that tears are rain, 
 
 That death nor heeds, nor hears distress ; 
 
 Will this unteach us to complain, 
 
 Or make one mourner weep the less ? 
 
 And th ~>u. who tells me to forget 
 
 Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet." 
 
 Byron, 
 
 When Pauline awoke from the sleep in which 
 Deena had left her, she was at first unconscious 
 of what had happened. There was a heavy sor- 
 row at her heart, a deep, uneasy dread, but just 
 what it was she knew not. She rose to a sitting 
 posture, and then as the awful reality of what 
 had happened came over her with crushing weight, 
 she threw herself back on her pillow, crying : 
 "Oh, Willie ! Willie ! I am alone, all alone ! " 
 For an hour she lay convulsed with silent grief, 
 then for the first time since she had received that 
 terrible shock, she felt a strong desire to gaze 
 upon the beloved form, and hold the hand in 
 hers. This desire gained in strength until she 
 rose from her bed, and in wrapper and slippers 
 with only alight shawl thrown over her shoulders, 
 
 173
 
 174 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 she left the room and glided noiselessly down the 
 stairway. She knew the room in which he lay. 
 Softly opening the door she entered as if he 
 slept and she feared to wake him. The gas was 
 turned down low, but she saw the casket at the 
 farther side of the room, and, as she wished it 
 might be, the lid was off. 
 
 "Oh, Willie! darling Willie, I have come at 
 last," she said, and kneeling by his side she 
 kissed his marble-like brow, while her tears fell 
 fast upon that white, dead face, and she began 
 talking as if she were in his presence : 
 
 "Oh, Willie! dear Willie, 'tis hard to give you 
 up, but I will try to bear this burden as bravely 
 as you said I must. It is a duty we owe to 
 others to bear our sorrows in silence, and to try to 
 relieve the sufferings of others. Even while I 
 feel so lonely and desolate, I will try for the sake 
 of others who may surfer, to be cheerful. I will 
 in all things do as you would wish." Raising 
 from her knees, she kissed the face which she 
 had uncovered when she reached his side. 
 
 "Dear, darling Willie, if I could know that 
 you were near me in the years which are to come. 
 You said that sometimes you felt the presence of 
 your dead mother. Oh ! can you not in spirit be 
 with me all the time ? " 
 
 The watchers at this moment entered again, 
 and found her bending over him, the great grief 
 of her heart bursting forth in convulsive sobs.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 1/5 
 
 Their hearts were touched, for never had they 
 beheld a more touching scene. 
 
 Three weeks have passed since William Stras- 
 more was buried. The excitement which his 
 murder had created, had somewhat abated. His 
 name is seldom mentioned in the Denesmore 
 home. With Pauline the subject is too sacred, 
 while others fear to wound her feelings by allud- 
 ing to it. He is deeply mourned by all. Paul- 
 ine in spirit is ever kneeling at the far away grave, 
 and each moment of her waking hours is spent 
 in thought of the dear departed. Who was his 
 assassin, and what the cause of his assassination ? 
 
 Mr. Denesmore in his study was turning the 
 question over in his mind, what could he do to 
 bring back the bloom to his daughter's cheek ? 
 Day by day the fond father had seen his child 
 grow weaker and paler. Would not travel and 
 change of scenery effect the cure he desired ? 
 While he was still thinking, Pauline entered his 
 study, and seating herself on a low stool at his 
 feet, placed her arm on his knees, and rested her 
 cheek upon it. Both were silent, but a sigh 
 escaping from her burdened heart, told how deep- 
 ly she felt the woe that had fallen upon her. 
 
 "Father, it is wrong I know, for me to keep 
 you all miserable. I have so often resolved to 
 be brave and give this up, but we know not how 
 weak we are until we are placed in the crucible.
 
 176 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 A shadow seems to have fallen on my once happy 
 life, and crushed out all joy forever." 
 
 "My dear child," said her father, drawing her 
 upon his knee as he had done when she was a 
 little girl, and placing her head against his 
 shoulder; "we must do something for you. 
 How would you like to travel ? Your mother 
 and I think it would be the very thing. You 
 need a change of scene." 
 
 ' ' You are very kind, papa, but I must not 
 think of travel now. I used to enjoy it, but there 
 is a change of scene nearer home, which will not 
 only benefit me, but others as well. Guy has 
 just told me that Mrs. Hammond is very ill. I told 
 him to come after me when he went there this 
 afternoon, and I would go with him. That will 
 be a change, father. I leave my own quiet home 
 and enter one made desolate by intemperance. 
 Father, I believe that unfortunate family have 
 greater God-given faculties than we. While we 
 have always been happy, they have only realized 
 happiness as a dream. They have long been a 
 prey to humanity's worst foe, of which we know 
 nothing save as the result seen in others." 
 
 ' ' Will it not make you more despondent to go 
 there ? " 
 
 "No, no father; I will gain strength by their 
 misfortunes. I never had any patience with a 
 drunkard until I became interested in Modenia 
 and George Hammond; then I put myself in her
 
 THE WORST FOE. 1 77 
 
 place, and thought were it my father and brother, 
 would not I be patient. In bringing them home 
 to myself, I lost my contempt for the drunkard. 
 Every drunkard is a father, son, brother or hus- 
 band, and there is some good in his nature. In 
 fact, father, many of the noblest and best of our 
 land fall victims to The Worst Foe. The destroyer 
 is placed before us, not as a destroyer, nor does 
 the victim realize what a fearful step he is taking 
 when he drinks his first glass. Why can not the 
 voter be more thoughtful and silentlv destroy 
 this evil?" 
 
 "I don't want you to think on this subject, 
 my dear. You might spend all your life in try- 
 ing to put down intemperance and never effect any 
 change. Your eloquence might as well be spent 
 on the desert, for all the good you will ever ac- 
 complish. Don't excite yourself about the 
 drunkard or the voter, lest you take burdens 
 upon your shoulders which you will never be 
 able to throw off. Do as your mother and I have 
 done drop a seed when and where you can, 
 which will bring forth good fruit, but do not try 
 to change the destiny of nations." 
 
 "I have heard you say, father, thatyou wanted 
 your children to be better than their parents. 
 Here may be a chance for progression. You 
 have only sowed in fertile ground ; we are told 
 to ' sow by all waters. ' You want the color to 
 return to my cheek, and you think of me travel- 
 as)
 
 178 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 ing for change of scene; but let me seek that 
 change at home, where earnest hearts and willing 
 hands are needed." 
 
 "Have it as you will, my dear; but I shall feel 
 better when the color has returned to your cheek, ( 
 and I can see a smile once more on your face." 
 
 When alone in her room, Pauline opened her 
 Bible. Her eyes first rested on the following 
 passage : 
 
 "Yea, though I walk through the valley of 
 the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou 
 art with me ; thy rod and thy staff they comfort 
 me." She rose to her feet and going to the 
 window repeated to herself, "I will fear no evil. 
 I shall enter the valley of the shadow of death, 
 when I go to Mrs. Hammond's the very worst 
 of the valleys of death; for of all, the one shad- 
 owed by the vice of strong drink is the dark- 
 est ; yet my work and mission shall be there and 
 I will fear no evil." 
 
 Dear readers, how many of you are ready like 
 Pauline Denesmore, to consecrate yourselves to 
 the cause of temperance, and enter with her 
 into the valley of the shadow of death caused by 
 the blighting breath of King Alcohol. Have 
 you,like Pauline, so far, only lived in the sunshine 
 of prosperity ? Then, like her, put yourself in 
 Modenia's place, remembering the evil monster 
 may enter your home and snatch loved ones 
 away. Don't be content as was Mr. Denesmore, 
 with sowing only in fertile ground.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Pauline found Mrs. Hammond very feeble. 
 Guy said that death was liable at any moment to 
 claim its victim. Pauline told Guy she would stay 
 with the stricken family until late in the evening, 
 when they could send the carriage for her. Lay- 
 ing aside her costly wraps, she set about her 
 work to lessen as far as possible the misery of 
 the poor sufferer. Nor were her efforts in vain. 
 As is always the case, heart responded to heart 
 in efforts put forth with the purest and truest 
 motives in relieving the pain of others. She 
 soon quieted Lillie to sleep, and rendered valua- 
 ble aid to toil- and care-worn Modenia. Taking 
 her seat by the side of the sick woman, she soothed 
 her sufferings the best she could. When the 
 dying woman spoke of her absent son, Pauline 
 talked hopefully of him. 
 
 "I very much fear he has gone down, down 
 again," said the invalid feebly. "He has been 
 silent so long." 
 
 "Put your trust in God, Mrs. Hammond, and 
 remember that 'not a sparrow shall fall to the 
 ground without your Father,'" said Pauline 
 cheerfully. "George has good in his nature 
 more good than evil, we all know you pray for 
 him always, and we none of us cease to pray for 
 him. Will not our prayers be answered." 
 
 "Oh, child !" sighed the heart-broken woman, 
 " if it were any other temptation than intemper- 
 ance, I might have some hope. But, oh, I
 
 ISO THE WORST FOE. 
 
 know the powers of such a temptation where 
 the tempter stands smiling and inviting at every 
 corner. 'The spirit is willing, but the flesh is 
 weak.' ' 
 
 "And I know if we aid ourselves, God will 
 aid us," said Pauline hopefully. "This curse 
 will not always be in our land. You may not 
 live to see it; I may not; but the generations 
 which follow will reap a rich harvest of love and 
 peace from what we have sown in tears. Do you 
 find no comfort in the thought?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, there is comfort in thinking of the 
 future. But my boy, my poor, deluded child ! 
 will he know that he was never from his mother's 
 mind from the time she held him in her arms, a 
 sweet, prattling babe. I loved him then, but I 
 love him more since his fall, for he needs 
 my love. I guarded him, watched him and 
 prayed for him. When he grcw.to manhood, 
 and was so pure and unspotted right in the midst 
 of temptations, how proud I \vas of him. I 
 thought, though all the world should fall, my 
 George is safe." 
 
 ''But we have learned, Mrs. Hammond, that 
 none are safe, Eternal vigilance alone is the 
 price of safety. Let us talk no more, for you 
 are weak. If ever I hear of George Hammond, 
 I shall use all my feeble efforts in his behalf, 
 and if he has fallen, he shall be saved, be he ever 
 so low in the stagnant pool of sin and degrada- 
 tion."
 
 THE WORST FOE. 1 8 1 
 
 When Pauline rose to go, Mrs. Hammond in- 
 sisted on her coming again on the morrow. ' 'We 
 need you so much," the dying woman feebly 
 said. "You bring such joy, such cheerfulness 
 and peace." 
 
 She promised, and kissing the pale, shrunken 
 features, was gone. Deena Hammond stood 
 gating after her, then turning to her mother, 
 said : 
 
 "Poor Pauline ! she has suffered keenly as 
 Well as ourselves, but her sorrow has only given 
 a sweeter, mellower influence to her love, which 
 was always abundant." 
 
 Pauline had kept up well while in the presence 
 of others, but when in her carriage the old grief 
 that had for three weeks held her in deepest des- 
 pair seized upon her, and she sobbed : 
 
 "Oh, Willie, Willie! how I miss you ! You 
 were with me the last time, to lead in the utter- 
 ance of words of cheer and hope. But now I 
 am alone ! Oh, God ! can I endure this loneliness? 
 I must weep alone. The world has its share of 
 sorrow and cannot take a part of my burden. I 
 must carry comfort to the afflicted, aid to the 
 needy and improve each golden hour. The time 
 will soon come when I can join you in that beau- 
 tiful world where night never comes."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE HAMMONDS. 
 
 " 'Twas then, the studious head, or generous mind, 
 
 Follower of God, or friend of human kind, 
 
 Poet or Patriot, rose but to restore 
 
 The faith and moral, nature gave before : 
 
 The less or greater, set so justly true, 
 
 That touching one, must strike the other, too." 
 
 Pope, 
 
 NEVER haa Pauline's time oeen more profita- 
 bly spent than during the week following the 
 events recorded in our last chapter. Profitably 
 to herself, for seeing the misery and suffering of 
 others, she was called away from the great sor- 
 row which burdened her own heart ; and certain- 
 ly profitable to others, for many weary souls 
 will bless her to their dying day. And when 
 from the Just Rewarder she shall hear the glad 
 words, "Well done, good and faithful servant, 
 enter thou into my joy" " Inasmuch as ye 
 have done it unto one of the least of these, ye 
 have done it unto me," that peace which passeth 
 understanding will enter her soul to endure for- 
 ever. Pauline administered to the wants of many 
 who were sick, and in poverty and distress, but 
 
 182
 
 THE WORST FOE. 183 
 
 most 01 her time was spent at Mrs. Hammond's 
 bedside. Her parents feared she was overtaxing 
 herself, but Guy said : 
 
 "Let her alone; it will do her good," and 
 they quietly awaited the outcome of her labors. 
 
 "Can nothing be done to find George ?" Mrs. 
 Hammond asked Dr. Denesmore and his sister, 
 who were at her bedside. 
 
 "I know of nothing more that can be done, 
 Mrs. Hammond," said Dr. Denesmore sadly. 
 "He started to Omaha, and I have written to a 
 friend there concerning him. He has visited the 
 hospitals, but none of them show the registration 
 of George Hammond. He was registered at a 
 hotel, but only for one day. That is as far as 
 we have been able to learn anything of him." 
 
 The poor woman lay for a few moments breath- 
 ing with difficulty. Deep down in her throat 
 could already be heard the warning rattle. At 
 last she raised her eyes which were rapidly grow- 
 ing glassy, and in a whisper said : 
 
 "Doctor, can I last long? " 
 
 "No, Mrs. Hammond. Do not be frightened, 
 for you must know you are soon to die, " said the 
 doctor. 
 
 She merely nodded her head and then while a 
 moisture gathered in her eyes, faintly said : 
 
 "My poor children poor Deena and Lillie. " 
 
 "Do not worry about them, Mrs. Hammond, 
 for they will be taken care of," said the doctor.
 
 1 84 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "You must not try to talk now, for you are too 
 weak. " Then whispering to his sister to remain 
 with the patient until he could send a nurse, the 
 doctor stole from the apartment. The eyes of 
 the dying woman closed, and her breathing be- 
 came every moment more and more difficult. 
 Pauline was watching the rapid change coming 
 over her countenance, when she heard the un- 
 steady step of the intoxicated husband and father. 
 Never had she had such a trial before. In his 
 maudlin, drunken manner, the inebriate told his 
 dying wife to get up ; that she was better, and 
 had not Pauline interceded, and called Deena to 
 her aid, he would have dragged her to the floor. 
 But they got him to bed in an adjoining room, 
 where he soon fell asleep. The angel of death had 
 spread his dark wings and was even at that mo- 
 ment hovering over the household. The drunk- 
 ard did not realize that she whom he had pronv 
 ised to protect, love and cherish, in sickness and 
 health, was at death's door, and because of his 
 cruelty, really welcomed the dark messenger. 
 Will he ever awake from that drunken slumber 
 to remorse and agony? He was once a kind 
 husband and an indulgent father, but alcohol had 
 transformed him to a demon. 
 
 His was the same old, old story, so often told 
 that it has long since lost its interest. He took 
 the social glass, and when his wife remonstrated, 
 remembered that it was not becoming in man to
 
 THE WORST FOE. 185 
 
 yield to woman. The devil kept whispering in 
 his ear to be a man and not become a henpecked 
 husband. He drank then more to annoy the 
 woman he professed to love than for any other 
 purpose. He would teach her not to interfere 
 with his liberty, and while ruining himself, and 
 destroying her happiness,he thought himself the 
 most injured man in the world. She pined away; 
 but the demon ever attributed it to her obstinacy, 
 and he grew to almost hate the woman whom he 
 had loved dearer than life. His tempter called 
 him wise, and he smiled at the flattery. From 
 bad to worse he continued his downward course, 
 until he was the bloated sot we find him. His 
 children were ashamed to acknowledge that he 
 was their father. Many a time had they blushed 
 and hung their little heads when they heard his 
 drunken folly recounted. When they grew to 
 years of maturity they would have hated the 
 author of their being,had not their patient mother 
 said : 
 
 ' 'Love your father for what he was, and pity 
 him for what he is. The law places the tempta- 
 tion before him and by doing so says, ' Drink, it 
 is honorable, we have made it legal. ' ' 
 
 Those hours of watching seemed long to Paul- 
 ine, for her brother failed to get a nurse, and she 
 was compelled to remain alone with the dying 
 woman. Mark Day, who had heard that Mrs. 
 Hammond was very ill, came to this house of
 
 1 86 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 misery. He softly entered the room, and com- 
 ing to Pauline's side, said in a whisper : 
 
 "Is she very sick ? " 
 
 "Yes, very." 
 
 Mrs. Hammond's senses, quickened perhaps 
 by the coming change, were active. She opened 
 her eyes, and in a feeble voice asked : 
 
 "Is it George ?" 
 
 "No, Mrs. Hammond, it is Mark Day," said 
 Pauline so sweetly and gently, that her voice 
 seemed to soothe the dying woman. 
 
 "I thought it was George come back." Then 
 she again closed her eyes and the death rattle in 
 her throat increased. Mark sighed, and left the 
 room. Deena sat weeping softly near her dying 
 mother, while little Lillie, not realizing the great 
 loss she was soon to sustain, was asleep. The 
 drunken snore of the father sounded cruel and 
 heartless to the lonely watchers. When he 
 awakes will he at last come to realize what has 
 happened? 
 
 When all was over, the inebriate, as if disturbed 
 by some supernatural element or the loud sobbing 
 of the two girls, awoke and came out into the 
 room. One glance at the white, still form on 
 the bed, and the young lady dressed in black, 
 who was closing the once bright eyes he had 
 loved so well, told him all was over. 
 
 "What is it Deena ? " he asked, while a shud 
 der passed through his frame.
 
 THE WORST FOE. l8/ 
 
 "Oh, father! she suffers no longer." 
 
 ' 'No, no ! young woman, what has happened?" 
 asked the almost distracted man, now wild with 
 remorse. 
 
 "Mr. Hammond," said Pauline as gently as if 
 she were talking to her own father, "your wife 
 has paid the gnsat debt of nature. She has laid 
 down her burden of life and entered into that 
 eternal rest which kin store for the good. She is 
 dead." 
 
 He staggered, fov ie had received a blow that 
 would last through H&, and with one piercing 
 cry, as though it wei the pent-up agony of 
 year?, fell insensible upon the floor. 
 
 After her mother was laid to rest, and her 
 father was sufficiently recovered from the delirium 
 tremens into which he was plunged, on the an- 
 nouncement of his wife's death, Modenia's whole 
 energies were bent on his redemption. She 
 scarcely allowed him from her sight. She ac- 
 ompanied him wherever he went, and stood by 
 his side while he was combating temptation. 
 He knew he would yield were it not for his 
 daughter, for long years of dissipation had weak- 
 ened Joseph Hammond, both physically and 
 mentally. 
 
 Deena knew that she could not always be at her 
 father's side. There must at some time be a re- 
 laxing of vigilance, and then the father would
 
 1 88 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 fall. The Worst Foe lurked always near, and 
 was ever watchful ; and the moment an opportu 
 nity afforded itself, would seize upon him and 
 drag him to destruction. George's plan of going 
 west, where in some rural district they might find 
 a place free from temptation, came forcibly upon 
 her. Might they not do so yet ? Her father's 
 energies had been so weakened by his long life 
 of dissipation, that he would be an invalid all 
 the remainder of his life, but she was strong and 
 young, and possessed sufficient education to 
 teach a primary or advanced school. She could 
 also take a music class, providing no school could 
 be obtained. Kansas, the young and growing 
 state, had already made a record on the side of 
 temperance, and she turned her attention in that 
 direction. 
 
 She mentioned her plan to Dr. Denesmore, 
 and he promised to see what he could do for 
 her. He remembered that he had a college 
 friend named Arthur Templeton, who lived in 
 some small town in Kansas. He knew Arthur 
 was a good, whole-souled fellow, capable of any 
 good act of friendship, and he wrote him a letter 
 stating Miss Deena Hammond's case, and asking 
 his assistance for herself and family. 
 
 The answer came promptly, and was favorable. 
 There were no saloons in the village where he 
 lived, and the sentiment of the entire city was 
 for prohibition. It would be some months be-
 
 THE WORST FOX, 189 
 
 fore there would be a vacancy in the village 
 schools, but Mr. Templeton would secure a 
 school for Miss Hammond in the country. As 
 Guy folded the letter he said : 
 
 ' 'It is the very thing for the Hammonds to do. 
 Let me see : Modenia is good looking, and Ar- 
 thur a tender-hearted old bachelor ! well, no one 
 knows what may grow out of all this yet." 
 
 Accompanied by Pauline, to whom the joy of 
 bearing good news helped to lighten her own 
 burden, he went that evening to the home of the 
 Hammonds. Deena was so delighted that color 
 actually came to her pale cheek again. 
 
 "A new and better life is before us," she said. 
 When they had disposed of their small property 
 aind scant effects, Pauline, finding that Deena's 
 means were still limited, placed a few bills in her 
 hand, saying: 
 
 "Take this, Deena, it is only loaned, and the 
 interest asked is that you do not pay it until you 
 can spare it without injury to yourself." 
 
 Modenia found it no easy matter to part from 
 her old home. Accompanied by her imbecile 
 father and little sister, she set out for her new 
 home in the great West. As she was whirled onj 
 for hours and days by the speeding train, her 
 thoughts would revert to her old home at Staun- 
 ton. 
 
 "I must not think of Staunton," she said to 
 herself, "my thoughts must be beyond."
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE FIRST GLASS. 
 
 Accuse not nature, she hath done her part; 
 Do thou but thine, and be not diffident 
 Of wisdom ; she deserts thee not, if thou 
 Dismiss not her, when most thou needst her sigh. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 O^WIFTLY the days speed into weeks and the 
 fJ weeks into months. Dr. Denesmore and his 
 wife spent the first year of their married life with 
 Mr. Day. Guy had intended to purchase an ele- 
 gant home of his own, but it did not suit Maria, 
 who detested anything like the labor of house- 
 keeping, and she prevailed on him to live for a 
 few months with her father. Maria had always 
 had her way, and she bid fair to rule her husband 
 in this. 
 
 The summer passed, and autumn followed, 
 then came winter with icy fetters and coats of 
 snow. It was New Year's day, and Pauline was 
 sitting in the parlor, when Mark Day suddenly 
 entered in his usual noisy, boisterous, excited 
 manner and said : 
 
 "Miss Pauline, I've got the dapple grays and 
 iny new cutter at the gate. You just ought to 
 
 190
 
 THE WORST FOE. igl 
 
 see them. I know you'll like them better 'n 
 ever if you'll come with me for a drive. There 
 is no need in you staying in here all day, for its 
 just splendid sleighing. Will you go with me ? " 
 
 Pauline's first impulse was to decline, but on 
 reflection she decided to go, more for Mark's 
 sake than her own. Then, might not the bracing 
 air have a salutary effect upon her ? 
 
 ' 'Yes, Mark, I will go with you ; but where is 
 Guy ? It is the first time since I can remember, 
 that he was not first to give me a New Year's 
 greeting. But it is now the middle of the after- 
 noon and he has not been here yet." 
 
 "He is at home. Maria and he receive their 
 friends to-day." 
 
 "I will just tell mother I am going, get my 
 wraps, and we will go." 
 
 The boy waited in the hall, whistling a merry 
 tune until his Sunday School teacher appeared, 
 and then he conducted her to his sleigh. Mark 
 was an experienced horseman, and boy as he 
 was, could manage a pair of fiery animals with 
 almost a man's skill. What is more animating 
 to the despondent, than riding in the pure, open 
 air, while the hoofs of the free, yet gentle ani- 
 mals play an accompaniment to the chime of the 
 bells, and the eye beholds the beauties of nature. 
 When winter has thrown a mantle of snow over 
 all, the body feels the invigoration of the pure, 
 health-laden atmosphere, and sad forebodings
 
 192 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 and sorrowful memories are driven from the 
 mind. This, like all fleeting pleasure which for 
 many make the probation on earth bearable, can 
 only be enjoyed for a short space of time, then 
 we are called back to the realities of life. Paul- 
 ine entered as much into the enjoyment of the 
 hour, as the boy at her side. 
 
 "Let's go and call on your brother and Maria, 
 Miss Denesmore," said Mark when they had 
 driven considerable distance out into the country. 
 "We can call around there for a moment." 
 
 Pauline agreed with his proposal, and Mark 
 turned his horses toward home. As Pauline 
 tripped up the broad stone steps which led to the 
 house, something of the old expression of health 
 and happiness came over her face, and shone 
 from her bright, sparkling eyes. Mark took her 
 to the rear parlor, giving as his excuse for doing 
 so, that Guy and Maria had company in the 
 front parlor, and perhaps she would not want to 
 go in there. 
 
 "No, Mark," she answered, "I will just wait 
 here until brother is at a moment's leisure, and 
 then you can call him in. I do not wish to be 
 with company, but will greet him and Maria here, 
 and go home." 
 
 Mark went into the front parlor where was 
 assembled the gay callers. There was a room 
 between the front and rear parlor a large draw- 
 ing-room, and the door being partially drawn
 
 THE FIRST OLASS. 
 
 With her own small, white hand she filled a glass with wine, and 
 holding it up, said; "Come, Guy, drink this." See page 193.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 193 
 
 back, Pauline saw a long table in the centre of 
 the room, on which were bottles and decanters, 
 glasses, cakes and other refreshments. She had 
 not been waiting many minutes, when she saw 
 Maria enter this room leaning on Guy's arm, 
 followed by several ladies and gentlemen. They 
 came to the table on which were such refresh- 
 ments as might be expected at the Days'. 
 
 ' 'Now, Doctor, let us drink the health of these 
 ladies," said one of the gentlemen callers. 
 
 Dr. Denesmore smiled, but made no answer. 
 
 ' 'The doctor has never drank a glass of wine 
 with me yet," said Mrs. Denesmore, as she no- 
 ticed her husband's hesitation. With her own 
 small white hand, she filled a glass with wine, 
 and holding it up, said : ' ' Come, Guy, drink this. 
 You do not know how pleasant it is to the 
 taste. Much better than some of the nostrums 
 you administer to your patients." 
 
 What man in the presence of gay friends 
 could resist such a temptation offered by the hand 
 of one he loved dearer than life? Guy took the 
 glass in an unsteady hand, and said something 
 to the gentlemen, then glasses clinked, and to 
 her horror Pauline saw her brother take his first 
 glass. She tried to speak to prevent him, but 
 she seemed powerless. She started up, but 
 strength failed her, and she sank back in her seat 
 unable to move. She bowed her head on the 
 arm of the sofa, and there Mark found her. He
 
 I C) 4 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 had hoped she had not seen Guy, but her attitude 
 convinced him she had. The boy was at his 
 wit's ends to know what to do. He scratched 
 his head, and wished he had never brought her 
 there. At last he said : 
 
 "The doctor's got so much company, Miss 
 Denesmore, that I expect we'd better wait no 
 longer. " 
 
 "No, Mark, we will go," said Pauline, raising 
 her head. Boy as he was, Mark Day's -percep- 
 tive faculties were keen, and he could not but 
 contrast her pale face and downcast eyes, with 
 the happy features he had left there but a few 
 moments before. Guy's first glass had been wit- 
 nessed by his sister. Silently they passed from 
 the house which they had entered, unobserved. 
 Mark knew Pauline's heart was almost breaking, 
 and refrained from mentioning a subject which 
 was causing his Sunday School teacher so much 
 pain. They rode home in silence, and at the door 
 Pauline said : 
 
 "Mark, do not mention this to father or moth- 
 er." 
 
 Mark bowed, and as he rode back home in his 
 cutter, he said : 
 
 ' 'Only his first glass, but if he can be persuaded 
 to take one, can he not be persuaded to drink 
 more ? It made Pauline look like a ghost. I 
 wish we hadn't gone there. It seems that I do 
 everything wrong. I hope this will be Guy's
 
 THE WORST FOE. 195 
 
 last glass, though I've heard 'em say every man 
 gets on a spree once in a lifetime. Strasmore 
 never would if he'd a lived a hundred years. 
 Some called him a fanatic, but I wish two-thirds 
 of the world was of that kind of fanatics. Guy 
 is a good fellow, but I am afraid he is not as strong 
 as Strasmore was, and I wish he hadn't taken that 
 first glass." 
 
 Pauline, determined to keep the humiliating 
 knowledge from her mother, entered her room, 
 where she found a letter lying on her table which 
 had been brought by the postman during her 
 absence. It was from Modenia Hammond, and 
 hoping that it would have a tendency to relieve 
 her mind, she opened it and read : 
 
 "DEAREST FRIEND : The labors of the day 
 ended, I find my chief pleasure in writing to you. I 
 am delighted with my free home in the West, which 
 in this particular locality is free indeed free from the 
 curse of strong drink. Oh, my dear friend, no one 
 free from the burden of that curse, can know the 
 happiness conveyed by those words. The very at- 
 mosphere seems filled with this freedom. Dr. Den- 
 esmore's friend, Mr. Templeton, has proven himself 
 a gentleman and a friend, well deserving the confi- 
 dence which the doctor places in him. After we 
 were established in our comfortable home, I found 
 that all arrangements had been made by Mr. Tem- 
 pleton much better than I could have made them 
 myself. My school progresses well, and if mother
 
 196 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 and George were only here, I could almost be happy. 
 
 Write soon without fail. 
 
 As ever your friend, 
 
 DEENA." 
 
 Pauline sat for a long time in a painful reverie, 
 with the letter lying in her lap. She at last rose 
 with a sigh, and lighted the gas, for the room had 
 grown dark. The recollection of what she had 
 seen was constantly in her mind, though she kept 
 repeating: "It will end there. Guy will never 
 be a drunkard. He will never do so again." 
 Her last thought after retiring was : 
 
 "It was his first, it will be his last. " No sleep 
 would have come to her eyes that night had she 
 seen her brother's giddy movements, or heard 
 the coarse, rude jest. Surely that man could 
 not be the refined Dr. Denesmore who had only 
 been known as a gentleman until now. It did 
 not stop with the first nor the second glass. No 
 one, save Mark, made an effort to stop him till 
 his brain was in a whirl, and his actions had be- 
 come idiotic. Then Ernest, ashamed of him, 
 led him away and put him to bed. 
 
 "It's always the case, father," he said. "Let 
 a boy be taught temperance, and you will make 
 a drunkard out of him. If you don't want to 
 raise drunkards, never try to teach them such 
 silly nonsense. But Doc. is'nt to blame ; he is 
 a jolly good fellow, and will get over this in 
 time."
 
 THE WORST FOE. 197 
 
 Next morning Pauline found herself nervous 
 and restless. Guy's first glass was constantly in 
 her mind. Although she thought it would bring 
 no harm to him, she kept repeating : 
 
 "It was his first, but it will also be nis last 
 glass." 
 
 So strong became the impulse to know some- 
 thing about him, that she concluded to make a 
 morning call on her brother. She had the horses 
 harnessed to her cutter and was soon at Mr. 
 Day's house. The servant said none of the fam- 
 ily was up except Mark. 
 
 "Guy not up, and it eleven o'clock," she said 
 to herself. She was sitting in the parlor hesitat- 
 ing whether to go or remain, when Mark Day 
 came in the room silent and sad. She missed 
 his merry whistle, and knew in a moment that 
 something was wrong. 
 
 "Good morning, Miss Denesmore, is'nt it 
 early for you to be out?" he asked. 
 
 "Early! it is eleven o'clock, Mark, and they 
 say Guy is not up yet. I never knew him to 
 sleep so late before." 
 
 Mark excused his tardiness in rising by say- 
 ing: "Some friends remained until late in the 
 evening, and I guess he has overslept himself," 
 but at the same time he avoided Pauline's eye. 
 
 "Mark, tell me, did Guy drink any more last 
 evening?" 
 
 ' 'It's too bad Miss Denesmore, but you know
 
 198 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 it's the second day of the New Year, and and 
 Guy's not well, that's all," he stammered, after 
 a moment's hesitation. For a while the poor 
 girl stood trembling with a terrible apprehension, 
 and then she said : 
 
 "Take me to his room, Mark." 
 
 After a moment's reflection, Mark answered : 
 "I will speak to him, probably he would rather 
 see you here." 
 
 "Mark, was it the wine that made Guy sick?" 
 
 "Well, no, not exactly. The wine led to it. 
 It was the mixed drinks stronger than wine, and 
 making a regular night of it." 
 
 Guy was very much displeased with himself, 
 and he was not only sick in body, but at heart. 
 There was a gnawing of conscience which made 
 him feel ill at ease. His head throbbed with 
 pain and when he was informed his sister wanted 
 to see him, he attempted to rise, but his head 
 was still in a whirl, his stomach nauseated, 
 and he was forced to lie down again. Finding 
 that it would be impossible for him to rise, he 
 consented to have Pauline come to his room. 
 As Mark closed the door behind him, Guy 
 thought : 
 
 ' 'What a fool I have been ; put a blot on my 
 name! disgraced myself! Been on a drunk! 
 how does it sound ? How will my friends like it ? 
 My parents will not be proud of me any more, 
 and poor Pauline, it will almost kill her. Shf is 
 so sensitive on such things. "
 
 THE WORST FOE. 199 
 
 He turned his face to the wall as Pauline en- 
 tered. For the first time in his life he did not 
 want to see his sister, or any one. Pauline came 
 to his bedside, and in a voice which trembled 
 with suppressed emotion, said : 
 
 "I called to see you yesterday, Guy, and 
 waited sometime in the back parlor for you to 
 be at liberty. I wanted to say ' Happy New 
 Year.'" 
 
 "It was too bad; what time were you here? " 
 asked Guy, still keeping his face averted. 
 
 "About three o'clock. Does your head ache, 
 brother ? " she asked, placing her hand across 
 his forehead. 
 
 "It is better now," he answered. "But Paul- 
 ine, why did you not wait until you could speak 
 to me yesterday? " 
 
 "I could not stay after what I saw," she an- 
 swered, while tears started from her eyes. 
 
 "What did you see, Pauline," he asked, with 
 a desperate effort at innocence. 
 
 "I saw you take your first glass, Guy, and I 
 learned this morning what followed. Oh, Guy ! 
 try to outlive it, and I hope it may be the last. 
 I blame myself that I did not go to your side 
 yesterday and take the glass from your hand." 
 
 "Do not blame yourself. It was my own 
 weakness that was at fault, but you can rest as- 
 sured that this is the last. I hope that neither 
 fa'ber >,or mother will hear of it, and I do not
 
 2OO THE WORST FOE. 
 
 think they will. Father never goes where drink- 
 ing carousals are discussed, and no one would be 
 so heartless as to tell mother." 
 
 The door opened, and Maria in a loose wrap- 
 per, looking very cross and peevish, entered. 
 The frown on her face deepened when she dis- 
 covered Pauline at Guy's bedside. 
 
 "What is the trouble? " she asked in a snap- 
 pish tone. "I think you are rather early Paul- 
 ine." 
 
 "Oh, Maria, I am almost heartbroken over 
 what Guy did yesterday. 1 ' 
 
 "You are very foolish to allow yourself to be 
 annoyed over so frivolous a matter as that," said 
 Maria, contracting her pretty brow into a frown. 
 ' 'The best gentlemen in the land get on a spree 
 once in a lifetime. It was New Year's day, and 
 Guy, who had been used only to milk and water, 
 was unaccustomed to the strength of good society 
 beverage on such occasions. Don't blame him, 
 but blame the way he was brought up. " 
 
 "Maria," said Guy spiritedly, "say no more 
 about this, for I assure you I am not proud of 
 it. I would not have my mother know it for 
 any thing in the world." 
 
 "How did you know it, Pauline, " Maria asked 
 with a frown still on her pretty face. Pauline 
 told her how she had come to make a New 
 Year's call, and had witnessed her brother take 
 his first glass of intoxicating liquors.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2OI 
 
 "I think you get over your mourning rather 
 soon, to enter a house among gay guests on such 
 an occasion as yesterday was," said Maria sarcas- 
 tically. 
 
 "Yes, I came wnere I could see and hear the 
 gay assembly, and was just in time to witness 
 my brother drink his first glass, put into his hand 
 by his wife, " was the keen retort, and fearing she 
 would say mote, Pauline rose and left the room.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 FIVE YEARS LATER. 
 
 Oh unexpected stroke, worse than of death, 
 Must I thus leave thee, Paradise ? Thus leave 
 Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, 
 Fit haunt of g<-ds? Where I had hoped to spend 
 Quiet, though sad, the respite of that day 
 That must be mortal to us both. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 TTTIME works wonders. Many thousands of 
 ^ changes are brought about in the lapse of 
 five years. Some changes are for the better and 
 some for the worse. The human family seems 
 playing on a great teeter. One generation we 
 find going up and their descendants coming down, 
 while those who were down the generation 
 before, are now going up. It is a psychological 
 puzzle which baffles the skill of the deepest phil- 
 osopher. When wt draw the curtain aside 
 and look upon the work wrought in the Denes- 
 more family by five short years, we are wont to 
 exclaim: "Oh, change! Oh wondrous change, 
 what has done it? What has bleached Mrs. Den- 
 esmore's hair until it is almost white as snow? 
 What has made her step more feeble than if she 
 
 202
 
 THE WORST FOE. 20^ 
 
 had passed her threescore years, and what has 
 deepened those lines upon the once handsome 
 face, until she has the appearance of being 
 wrinkled and old ? Not only Mrs. Denesmore 
 in her widow's weeds and haggard wretchedness 
 speaks of the terrible change, but every trace 
 of joy and happiness has disappeared from Paul- 
 ine's face, leaving a sad, aching void, which be- 
 speaks a tale of woe most terrible to think of. 
 Maria seems to have grown much older than she 
 Bhould be, and there is a wearied, dissatisfied 
 look on her face which seems to sharpen her 
 soured temper, and her eyes have grown red with 
 weeping and watching. Why all this misery? 
 Why such visible signs of woe ? There is no 
 crape on the door it cannot be death. " Though 
 the Denesmore homestead has lost some of its 
 grandeur and beauty in its ornamentation, it is- 
 still comfortable and elegant. 
 
 It is the blighting curse of rum which has fallen 
 on the once happy home of the Denesmore's. 
 Hearts, instead of doors are draped in mourning, 
 and heads are bowed to the dust in humiliation 
 and shame. Days and nights of anxious watch- 
 ing are tellingon the mother, sister and wife of 
 Dr. Guy Denesmore. In Guy there is the sad- 
 dest and most marked change of all. From the 
 handsome, genteel young physician as we knew 
 him, he has become the bloated, degraded, drunk- 
 en wretch of the present. That poor old mother
 
 2O4 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 who has watched him so many anxious days, 
 hoping, fearing, and praying for his reformation, 
 was at last compelled to admit that her son was 
 treading the downward road to ruin. What a 
 humiliating acknowledgment for a mother to 
 make, that her dutiful, loving son was an irre- 
 deemable drunkard. He of whom she was so 
 justly proud, and who should have been the 
 prop and stay of her declining years was now 
 a complete wreck, while his self-sacrificing mother 
 was utterly powerless to check his downward 
 career. This has made the change. When we 
 think of Guy Denesmore as he was, and see him 
 as he is, a bloated, stupefied, degraded human 
 being, we feel constrained to ask, ' 'Is it possible?" 
 But such changes are not uncommon, and will 
 be witnessed as long as saloons are permitted to 
 flourish in our country. Why boast of freedom 
 when the most abject slavery is everywhere in 
 our land ? Are we free from crime, sin and mis- 
 ery, when rum holes are on every corner and the 
 devil's emissaries are ever ready to lay hands 
 upon the unwary, and under the guise of friendship 
 drag him into some saloon where the fetters of 
 his slavery may be more closely riveted? 
 
 Pauline stood at the window, gazing out upon 
 the scene which had been familiar to her from 
 early childhood. That scene is very nearly the 
 same as when presented to the reader. Some o/ 
 the trees have grown a little taller, a little larg**
 
 THE WORST FOE.- 
 
 and the improvements are just a little out of re- 
 pair, but in the main the scene is about the same. 
 But how changed is Pauline since we first knew 
 her. That heart then overflowing with youthful 
 merriment, is full of dark despair. Those eyes 
 then sparkling with brightness are now sad and 
 downcast. 
 
 "Oh, how can we leave our home ! this dear 
 old place where I was born ? " she asked aloud. 
 The words seemed bursts of agony wrung from 
 her heart. Her mother heard her, and began 
 sobbing with a grief which would not be sup- 
 pressed. Pauline, blaming herself for allowing 
 her emotions to overcome her, hastened to her 
 mother's side, and throwing her arms about her, 
 said : 
 
 "We have a whole year to stay here yet, 
 mother ; perhaps our Heavenly Father will call 
 us home before the time shall expire. I am so 
 thankful that father was spared this affliction. 
 He died without knowing that Guy had even 
 taken his first glass. Although it might not have 
 happened had father lived, I am glad he was called 
 home before the great blow fell." 
 
 "No, no, no, he could not have saved him. 
 The evil had too powerful a hold on Guy before 
 any of us even suspected it. His father would 
 have been blinded and deceived the same as we 
 were," the mother answered sadly, 
 
 "But his father would have been able to keep
 
 2O6 THE Wf ST FOE. 
 
 the property," chimed in the selfish Maria. "I 
 don't know what is going to become of me unless 
 I go back to my mother." 
 
 No one made any answer, and silence a long 
 silence ensued. Guy's experience was the same 
 as the experience of many hundreds before him, 
 he fully intended that the first glass should be 
 his last. He had acted wholly from impulse in 
 taking his first glass, and had formed the resolu- 
 tion so often formed, to stop right there. But 
 lie had found wine pleasant to the taste, and the 
 second glass was exhilarating and called for the 
 third, and so on until it all ended in a night of 
 debauchery, followed by a day of mental and 
 physical suffering. When he was able to go out 
 on the streets again he felt that he was greatly 
 changed. Until this moment of his life he had lived 
 above reproach, and nothing could be said against 
 his character, but the recollection of last night's 
 debauch made him quite crestfallen. He had 
 scarcely entered his office, when one of his fast 
 acquaintances of New Year's day entered, and 
 slapping him gaily on the shoulder said that he 
 was now one of them, and it would not go so 
 hard next time, and concluded by inviting him 
 across the street to "wet his whistle." Guy po- 
 litely, yet firmly refused, and his new acquaintance 
 with a hearty laugh, went away saying : 
 
 "You'll get over it, Doc, and come round yet. 
 I'll not urge you, but I know you are bound to
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2O/ 
 
 become one of the b-hoys. " It had always been 
 a fixed principle of Guy, to attend strictly to his 
 own business and antagonize no one. Others 
 could do just as they pleased, he would not dic- 
 tate. Guy would laugh at William Strasmore, 
 who never lost a chance to lecture on the evils 
 of intemperance. When the young man insin- 
 uated to Guy a few days after his first glass, that 
 he always knew he would be one of their set, 
 he thought of William Strasmore, who had always 
 adopted the theory of coming out from among 
 those in whom he did not believe. "No one 
 ever thought he would be one of their set," said 
 the young doctor as he reflected on the act which 
 he deemed a disgrace to him. Young men of 
 wealth and station, called to remind Guy that he 
 was one of their set, and by delicate inuendoes 
 sought to compliment his humor .during the little 
 spree. He felt thankful when a professional call 
 brought him back to the realities of the business 
 world. From that time forth he seemed to see 
 through a new pair of eyes. 
 
 Before a month of the New Year was gone, 
 Guy was summoned to the bedside of his father, 
 who had suddenly been seized with a malignant 
 fever. Anxious days and nights of watching 
 were spent. The best physicians the city afforded 
 were called in counsel, but all of no avail. Both 
 love and skill failed, and one evening, as the sun 
 was sinking in the west, the family gathered
 
 2O8 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 about the dying Christian to witness the last 
 struggle. Guy stood by his grief-stricken moth- 
 er, and watched the wave of life surging to and 
 fro. When almost over, and the dying man 
 stood as it were with one foot on earth and one 
 in Heaven, he seemed to revive a moment as if 
 to give some parting blessing or instruction. Guy 
 bent low to catch what trembled on his lips. In 
 a low, yet distinct murmur the dying father 
 said: 
 
 "My son, I entrust your mother ana sister to 
 your care." He was forced to pause, for his 
 breath was growing very short, and for a few 
 moments the silence was broken only by the 
 sobs of the weeping family. Having regained 
 sufficient strength, he continued : ' 'Guy, it is a 
 great trust ; be faithful to it. Be a dutiful son 
 to your mother, and a kind brother to your 
 sister." 
 
 There were other words murmured like the 
 faint echoes coming from the borderland of shad- 
 ows, but so faintly were they breathed, that no 
 intelligence could be gleaned from the accents. 
 All then became still. The eyes were fixed and 
 glassy and the breathing had stopped. Guy 
 knew that his father was gone. Gone to that 
 land from whose mysterious bourne no traveler 
 ever returns. When the last sad rites were over, 
 and Pauline was left alone, she remembered that 
 Guy was surrounded by temptations which even
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 his strength might not be able to resist. The 
 recollection of that first glass was so indelibly im- 
 pressed on her mind, that time would not efface 
 it. If she always had him at her side, she thought 
 he would be safe, and after consulting with her 
 mother on the subject, they requested young Dr. 
 Denesmore to come and share their home with 
 them. Their plan succeeded much better than 
 they dared hope, for even Maria willingly con- 
 sented, and a few weeks later they were installed 
 in the old homestead of the Denesmores. 
 
 A few months later, Dr. Denesmore was 
 blessed with a beautiful infant. The whole fam- 
 ily almost worshipped the little girl baby, and 
 though an experienced nurse was employed, its 
 grandmother Denesmore and aunt Pauline were 
 its real nurses. They believed that love could 
 do more with a weak baby than hired skill. At 
 Pauline's earnest request, the baby was given 
 her name, and became the sweet little Pauline 
 number two. She was cross and fretful, as babies 
 usually are, but her aunt Pauline as self-consti- 
 tuted nurse, never grew tired of trying to alleviate 
 her infant sufferings, night nor day. The baby 
 annoyed its mother very much, for Maria never 
 could endure a crying child. Maria's mother 
 advised that she have some choice wine to 
 strengthen her, and suggested weakened liquor 
 for the baby. Mrs. Denesmore's orthodox reg- 
 ularity was of course shocked by this suggestion,
 
 2IO THE WORST FOE. 
 
 and she opposed it from the first. She spoke of 
 her own success in baby raising, and said her 
 children were healthy from birth to maturity, 
 without the aid of any alcoholic liquors. Mrs. 
 Day declared that as she had raised one more 
 baby than Mrs. Denesmore, her judgment on 
 such matters was preferable. Although Pauline 
 plead earnestly with them not to stupefy the 
 bright little intellect with alcoholic drinks, her 
 opinion on baby raising was held at naught, and 
 she of course was not to be consulted. Mrs. 
 Day told how cross and fretful Ernest was, and 
 how completely she was worn out, until a wise 
 physician recommended beer, ale and wine, and 
 what a good child he was after that, just slept all 
 the time unless he was hungry. 
 
 "He often takes long sleeps from the effect of 
 those drinks yet," said Guy to his wife when 
 Maria had communicated to him what her moth- 
 er had said. Maria's eyes flashed fire at the insin- 
 uation, and then and there settled the liquor 
 question. The very next day she told her 
 mother to bring just what she thought best for 
 her, and if her husband would not furnish her the 
 necessaries of life, her father would. Guy who 
 had not refused her request from niggardly views, 
 felt not a little piqued at her remark. He was 
 about to make some keen retort, but checking 
 himself, he left the house. It was some time 
 before he returned, and when he did a glass of
 
 THE WORST FOE. 211 
 
 wine and a bottle of beer stood on the small 
 stand at Maria's bedside. She was victorious, 
 and could afford to be amiable toward her hus- 
 band, and when her supply of liquor was gone, 
 she insisted on her husband getting more. In 
 order to prooure it, he went to a place he had 
 never frequented. There he met the same fast 
 young men who had declared they always knew 
 he would be "one of the b-hoys. " 
 
 "Doc, you'd better sample that wine before 
 you take it away," said one of the fast young 
 men. He did so, and may be said to have enter- 
 ed on the broad highway to ruin from that date. 
 His wife, his friends and everybody save his 
 mother and sister, who might be fanatics on the 
 subject, seemed to be drawing him upon this 
 broad highway. 
 
 Ernest Day was a close student of human na- 
 ture. He had made men a life-long study. He 
 knew just how far to lead George Hammond 
 before turning him over to the bad. He also 
 knew to what length Dr. Denesmore would go 
 if once a slave to strong drink. He witnessed 
 Guy's first glass with a feeling of exultation. It 
 may seem strange that he desired the ruin of his 
 sister's husband, yet from purely selfish motives 
 and a desire for revenge, he deliberately planned 
 it. 
 
 We will not go into details. Guy fell time and 
 again, keenly feeling the mortification with each
 
 212 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 return to soberness, and resolving at each time 
 that it should be the last. We can form an idea 
 of what it is to make a resolution of that kind, 
 but we have no idea of the strength, the support 
 and help a man needs to resist such temptation 
 when placed before him. When the appetite has 
 been created, then even iron wills breakdown be- 
 neath it. We are too harsh with the liquor 
 drinker, but not harsh enough with the liquor 
 seller. While the temptation is permitted to be 
 placed before them, a large per cent, of the 
 tempted will fall. Other vices join hands with 
 intemperance, and all conspire to whirl the victim 
 on to certain ruin. 
 
 Thus it was with Dr. Denesmore. The vice 
 of drinking was accompanied by the kindred vice 
 of gambling, and the large fortune left him by 
 his father, with the additional amount he had ac- 
 cumulated himself, was soon swallowed up ; all 
 gone before he was hardly aware of it. One 
 morning after a night's debauch, he found him- 
 self penniless, disgraced and ruined. 
 
 He could not bear to meet his family and the 
 loving caress of his little girl, who was then at 
 that charming age when she had begun to put 
 baby thoughts into baby words. His thoughts 
 were mainly of the child he had cheated and 
 wronged. 
 
 "Oh, Heaven, I have disgraced and robbed 
 her ! She is ruined, a beggar, and I have done
 
 THE WORST FOE. 21 3 
 
 ft ! I wish I were dead. No, no, I am cursed 
 if I live, but not fit to die." 
 
 The wretched man walked the floor of his office 
 which was now seldom, if ever, visited by a patient. 
 Dr. Patterson had dissolved the partnership be- 
 tween them some months previous, and Dr. 
 Denesmore seldom had a call. Dr. Pat- 
 
 terson, Guy's senior partner had tried hard to 
 redeem him, but finally gave him up when he 
 found it absolutely necessary. 
 
 The devil always sends his agent in due time 
 to prevent his victims from throwing off the 
 chains which he is closely riveting, and is never 
 too late to head off reformation. It was so on 
 this morning when Guy Denesmore was on the 
 eve of .reforming or committing suicide. Ernest 
 Day, with oily words of sympathy, tempered 
 with encouragement, came to Dr. Denesmore's. 
 The doctor could not recognize anything in him, 
 save what he pretended to be. Guy Denesmore 
 was not a character reader ; he was also unsus- 
 picious, and the very man to be made a victim 
 by such an unscrupulous person as Ernest 
 Day. Even if he had suspected his design, he 
 had not strength to say : ' 'Get thee behind me, 
 Satan " 
 
 Ernest quickly, carefully and deftly sketched 
 a prosperous future for the ruined man, and bade 
 him take heart. He was young, with a consti- 
 tution as yet but little impaired, and able to
 
 214 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 be a man among men. Upon Guy making 
 promises to reform (the devil is usually a re- 
 former), Ernest agreed to meet all of Guy's lia- 
 bilities, furnish him capital for a new start, and 
 try to reinstate him with Dr. Patterson. 
 
 "Old Doc thinks a great deal of you," Ernest 
 continued with a shrewd smile. ."By a little 
 caution, and going on just as you should, you 
 can come into his practice, for he will soon re- 
 tire." 
 
 "But you cannot do this much for me just on 
 the strength of my word, " said Guy thoughtfully. 
 
 "No, hardly," Ernest answered with a bland 
 smile. "It would't be very business-like, and I 
 am a great stickler for having everything busi- 
 ness-like. I will do all in my power to redeem 
 you and your lost fortune, and give vou another 
 lift." 
 
 "But I have nothing to secure you," inter- 
 rupted Guy. 
 
 "No, I know you have nothing of your own, 
 but I thought your mother and sister might mort- 
 gage the home place for the money." 
 
 "What ! " broke in Guy, in rage and astonish- 
 ment, ' 'ask them to sign away the old home ? 
 No ! better eke out a miserable existence or sink 
 forever from sight in the slough of despondency. 
 I would not care if it was not for my baby." 
 
 Guy could say no more. He broke down 
 almost completely, and turned away his head.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 215 
 
 The cool, shrewd, calculating Ernest Day, stood 
 smiling blandly for a moment, and then said : 
 
 "You seem to think a mortgage is a warranty 
 deed. They need not part with their home. 
 You are not so dishonest as to avoid the payment, 
 and the notes will be on the installment plan. I 
 will be lenient with you as much so as possible. 
 Just regain your lost reputation, and you know 
 your fortune is made. I would not have made 
 the proposition, had I not known how glad your 
 mother and sister would have been to accommo- 
 date you. And your baby will never know to 
 what straits you have been reduced." 
 
 The last hint decided Guy. He loved his 
 mother and sister, but his love for his child bor- 
 dered on idolatry. Ernest Day parted from the 
 ruined man, as fully confident that he would own 
 the home of Pauline Denesmore, as if he had 
 had the deed to it, locked up in his iron vault 
 
 Mrs. Denesmore and Pauline heard Guy's res- 
 olution to do better with joy and thankfulness. 
 When he told them he was to again enter into a 
 co-partnership with Dr. Patterson, hope sprang 
 up once more in their breasts, and although 
 through Guy's mismanagement, all their property 
 save their homestead had been swept away, they 
 were perfectly willing to trust the son and brother 
 again, and expressed a hearty willingness to sign 
 the mortgage. When Pauline learned that the 
 mortgage was to be made to Ernest Day, she was
 
 2l6 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 thoughtful and troubled. "Why could it not 
 have been some one else?" she asked herself. 
 She had not only grown to dislike, but to dread 
 Ernest Day, who within the past year had per- 
 sistently urged his suit. 
 
 But Pauline's confidence in her brother was 
 unbounded. She knew he would keep his word, 
 and they would never realize that any but them- 
 selves had a claim on the dear old homestead. 
 The mere fact of the mortgage being held by 
 Ernest Day, need not give her any uneasiness. 
 Her brother would pay it. How she had miscal- 
 culated may easily be guessed. Though Guy 
 was once more in business with Dr. Patterson, it 
 was on a less profitable basis, and the world was 
 not to him as it had been before. Confidence in 
 him was shaken, and he not only found himself 
 obliged to battle with himself, but adversity on 
 every hand. 
 
 At last he grew disheartened, discontented, and 
 fell. The old life returned with all its awful hor- 
 ror, and fell like a thunderbolt on that patient 
 mother and kind sister. They knew the inevi- 
 table fate which awaited them, and tried to pre- 
 pare themselves to meet it. On the morning 
 with which this chapter opens, Ernest Day had 
 insulted Pauline by informing her that the only 
 way she could save her home was by becoming 
 Mrs. Day. She had rejected him again, and in- 
 dignantly ordered him from her presence. As 
 he turned to go away, he said :
 
 THE WORST FOE. 21/ 
 
 "You will repent this day's work, Miss Den- 
 esmore. You may think now that it is an easy 
 thing to give up home and all, but you will yet 
 learn that these bombastic words, and high and 
 mighty airs will not save your home, nor put 
 money in your pocket." 
 
 When Pauline returned to her room to be alone, 
 she sighed as she had often done before, but 
 never had she felt so wronged. She had now 
 grown to hate Ernest Day and could no longer 
 endure his presence. Deeply feeling her humil- 
 iation, she buried her face in her hands and cried: 
 
 "Oh, Willie, Willie, Willie, had your life been 
 spared, all this woe would have been averted. 
 Your own strong arm could have saved Guy. I 
 dare not think of Guy as he was five years ago, 
 and then look at him as he is now."
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ARTHUR TEMPLETON. 
 
 "Oft does the heart indulge the rising thought 
 Which still recurs, unlocked for and unsought i 
 My soul to Fancy's fond suggestion yields, 
 And roams romantic o'er her airy fields." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 H E five years that have passed, have wrought 
 as wonderful a change in the Hammonds as 
 it has in the Denesmores. Here we see the 
 teeter board of nature completely changing. As 
 one family goes down, the other comes up. 
 Deena Hammond, now contented and respect- 
 able, even though the brightest dreams of her 
 youth have faded away ; five mornings out of 
 each week taking her place in the village school 
 as teacher in the intermediate department. She 
 is loved by both parents and pupils, for she loves 
 lier work, and is faithful in her task. There is a 
 quiet happiness at that humble little cottage, pre- 
 sided over by Deena, and kept so neat and tidy 
 by her own industrious hands. It was an humble 
 home 'tis true, and far from being the fine man- 
 sion with gilded halls and elaborate paintings of 
 
 119
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2 19 
 
 which she had dreamed when a child ; but here 
 are peace, contentment, and a quiet joy that 
 surpasses the empty pleasures of golden palace. 
 Every Saturday, Deena's subdued voice could be 
 heard humming some familiar air, as she went 
 about her household duties. Lillie's childish 
 laughter filled the house, as she frolicked with 
 her numerous pets. She paused sometimes to 
 tease her sister about Mr Templeton, or tell her 
 young friend across the way some joke on him. 
 Lillie likes Mr. Templeton more than all her 
 other friends. Lillie is not only a fun-loving 
 child, but -she takes time to build air-castles 
 for the future, as what child does not. She in- 
 tends when grown to womanhood, to take her sis- 
 ter's place in the school after she has given it up, 
 and learn to play the organ for the church. It is 
 quite a humble path marked out by Lillie, and a 
 dream that may be realized after all. But she 
 declares to her sister that she has one higher am- 
 bition, and this is to write a romance of real life 
 with Mr. Arthur Templeton as the hero, and 
 dedicate it to her sister Deena. 
 
 There is no doubt but that Lillie was puzzled 
 to understand why Deena was so quiet when Mr. 
 Templeton was around, and then what made Mr. 
 Templeton, whom she thought the "smartest 
 man she ever knew, " blush and look so silly when 
 talking to Deena. When Mr. Templeton asked 
 her sister to ride with him in his new phaeton,
 
 22O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Lillie could not understand why she refused. 
 When Deena was asked by her little sister if she 
 did not like Mr. Templeton, she answered : 
 
 "Oh, yes, child do hush dear, you don't 
 know just what you are talking about." 
 
 It all seemed so queer to Lillie, and Deena 
 seemed such an inconsistent character, that she 
 shook her little head and said she could not have 
 a place in her book. 
 
 That very afternoon, Mr. Arthur Templeton 
 called at the cottage on an errand for his mother. 
 Deena answered the bell, and Lillie who was 
 watching them, at once marked the young man's 
 embarrassment as he was invited into the little 
 parlor. 
 
 "No, no, thank you, Miss Hammond," he 
 stammered. "My mother sent me or requested 
 me to come or seemed to think I had better 
 come to ask your judgment or invite you to our 
 house to get your opinion on the new organ for 
 the church. The committee of ladies who have 
 the matter in charge, meet at my mother's Wed- 
 nesday afternoon at four o'clock." 
 
 While delivering this short message, the poor 
 fellow changed color half a dozen times and was 
 glad to hurry away when the last words were 
 spoken. When he was gone, Lillie went to her 
 sister, and in a teasing mood said : 
 
 "I guess I can't put him in the book after all. 
 He's too awkward, and an awkward hero would
 
 THE WORST FOE. 221 
 
 be sure to spoil a book. May be I could do it, 
 though, for he must be in it." 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Deena. 
 
 ' 'I mean that Mr. Templeton must be my hero, 
 just as he is except when he is with you," the 
 child answered with great gravity. ' 'I can't have 
 him in my book stammering, and blushing, hold- 
 ing the rim of his hat as if he was, afraid it would 
 turn to your last year's poke bonnet. I guess I 
 will have to polish him some." 
 
 While Deena was listening to Lillie's portrayal 
 of Mr. Templeton's deportment, that gentleman 
 was walking rapidly toward his home very much 
 put out with himself. 
 
 "Why am I so foolish when in her presence, " 
 he asked himself, evidently greatly vexed. "I 
 seem to lose all self-command, and become a 
 blundering idiot. A bashful schoolboy in his 
 first declamation would do as well as I." 
 
 That evening, as his mother and himself were 
 alone in the quiet little sitting room, the mother 
 engaged in that most homelike labor, knitting, 
 while the cat was purring on the rug at her feet, 
 presenting a familiar, yet ever new picture of 
 peace and contentment, the son cast anxious en- 
 quiring glances at his mother. Mrs. Templeton, 
 with her snow-white apron, neatly fitting gray 
 dress, snowy cap frill and collar, and the softest 
 silver hair just peeping out from beneath her cap 
 border, was a pleasant picture of ease and con-
 
 222 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 tentment. Modenia, as many others, had found 
 in this old woman a wise and true counselor. 
 Three years ago, as Modenia turned away from 
 the grave of her father, bowed with grief at the 
 loss of him, though he had wrecked his own life 
 and made her life wretched, and notwithstanding 
 the knowledge that while he lived he was in con- 
 stant peril of ' ' The Worst Foe," this kind lady had 
 taken her to her heart and comforted her as only 
 a Christian can. As Deena wept upon her bosom, 
 she felt constrained to say : ' 'Her people shall be 
 my people, and her God, my God;" and from 
 thenceforth their warm . friendship became like 
 that of mother and daughter. 
 
 Arthur Templeton had -marked out a career 
 rather high in life. When only a child he had 
 advocated that human nature would be human 
 nature. He believed in no such thing as fate. 
 The course he had marked out for himself was 
 commendable, had he been equal to the task. 
 He soon found he was not, and went through the 
 world a disappointed man. In early life he had 
 exalted dreams of one day occupying a high 
 place in the world. He dreamed of being a 
 philanthropist, and devoting his life to the ad- 
 vancement of the general school system. The 
 need of popular education and the elevation of 
 the masses, he hoped to impress on the minds 
 of the people. Being left without a father at a 
 very early age, and his kind mother not having
 
 THE WORST FOE. 22$ 
 
 ft in her heart to disturb her boy's day-dreams 
 with the sterner realities of life, he was permitted 
 to dream on until he learned by sad experience 
 that his plans were visionary and impracticable. 
 After Arthur had completed his college course 
 they removed to Kansas, where Arthur's father 
 had purchased a large tract of land shortly before 
 his death. Here the young enthusiast had en- 
 tered into his work with zeal and determination. 
 When he first became acquainted with Modenia 
 Hammond, he could not but admire her self-re- 
 liance and energy. He soon found himself call- 
 ing at her school rather frequently, but there 
 was a pleasure in these calls, and in spite of his 
 bashfulness they became more frequent. His 
 day-dreams changed. Miss Hammond occu- 
 pied a conspicuous place in them. Soon 
 after her father's death he had proposed to 
 her, but met a strange rejection. It gave 
 him pain, but did not altogether deprive him of 
 hope. Arthur Templeton was greatly in earnest 
 in everything he set himself about, and he was 
 not one to easily despair. 
 
 He sat for a long time, his head bowed in 
 thought, while his mother diligently plied her 
 knitting needles. So still and silent was he with 
 his arms folded across his breast, that he seemed 
 to be studying the opposite corner of the fire- 
 place. At last he broke the silence with : 
 
 "Mother, what do you think of Miss Ham- 
 mond?"
 
 224 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 The kind old lady opened her eyes, looked at 
 him a moment, and answered : 
 
 "Deena is a very good girl, Arthur. The 
 course she took with her intemperate father was 
 very wise. It was a great trial no doubt to come 
 way out here among strangers. Her trials with 
 him show real heroism, and how he managed to 
 get liquor when there was none, is surprising. 
 Yet she never gave up, and by her vigilance 
 made her father a sober man before he died." 
 
 "Mother, don't you think a woman can judge 
 a woman, better than a man can ? " 
 
 "Not always though she sometimes may." 
 " A long silence followed, and Arthur then com- 
 menced : 
 
 "Over two years ago, mother, I asked Miss 
 Hammond to be my wife." 
 
 Mrs. Templeton kept on with her knitting, 
 not evincing the least surprise. Arthur was puz- 
 zled at his mother's coolness, and asked : 
 
 "Did you know it?" 
 
 "I knew such was your intention," the moth- 
 er answered, plying her knitting needles briskly. 
 "Women cannot always judge women aright, but 
 I can read my son, I am sure." He was silent 
 and thoughtful for a few moments, and then he 
 said: 
 
 "I shall never forget the look of terror Miss 
 Hammond gave me when I proposed marriage to 
 her. She sprang to her feet as if frightened and
 
 THE WORST FOE. 225 
 
 surprised, and cried : 'No, no, no, a thousand 
 times no ! ' She walked to the window and 
 seemed in great distress, then threw herself into 
 a chair, and for a few moments buried her white 
 face in her hands. When she looked up again, 
 I never saw such firmness expressed in features 
 or voice. She seemed afraid that I was offended, 
 and went on to assure me that she appreciated 
 my friendship, but that no nearer relation than 
 the best friendship could ever exist between us. 
 It has gradually settled on my mind that there is 
 something more in Miss Hammond's past history 
 than the care of an intemperate father or a lost 
 brother. She once remarked that all the woe 
 which had come on both her mother and herself, 
 was through strong drink. What do you think 
 of it all, mother ? " 
 
 "You have given up Miss Hammond, have 
 you not? " she asked. 
 
 ' 'I do not know. I shall not urge the matter 
 very strongly," he answered evasively, for he 
 was not willing to admit even to his mother, how 
 hard the struggle had really been. 
 
 "Whatever there may be in Miss Hammond's 
 past life, my son, you may have perfect confi- 
 dence in her," said the mother. 
 
 "I have." 
 
 "So have I. Try to regain her friendship 
 as you had it before you made your proposal. 
 If she has a skeleton in the closet, you can rest 
 
 (16)
 
 226 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 assured it is from no wrong doing on he* part. 
 Just wait the development of time ; the mist may 
 yet clear away ; but above all let us endeavor to 
 prove ourselves worthy friends of these orphan 
 girls." 
 
 "We will, mother. I will ever be a true, 
 unselfish friend of Deena Hammond and her 
 little sister. I will be a brother to both k if I can 
 be no nearer to Deena. " 
 
 If Arthur Templeton had seen Deena Ham- 
 mond on that evening, perusing a book of poetry 
 he had given her to read, in which he had 
 marked his favorite passages, and noted with 
 what rapture she read his favorites, he might have 
 taken hope. As she pressed the gift, made 
 precious for the giver's sake, to her heart, she 
 mentally soliloquized : 
 
 "Oh, Arthur Templeton, I am proud in your 
 love, even though you may never know that it is 
 returned. Though I may never be able to give 
 you what the love of a true woman's heart dic- 
 tates a wife's devotion, it is better that I know 
 you, for your love even from a distance, has 
 raised me above the ills and injustice of human- 
 ity." 
 
 Had Arthur Templeton known her thoughts 
 and seen her tears, it would have settled his mind, 
 and no more would he have asked himself the 
 question, "Does she care for me ? " Mrs. Tem- 
 pleton had read the hearts of both her son and
 
 THE WORST FOE. 22J 
 
 Deena aright. There was a marked change in 
 his deportment toward Deena from that time, 
 until Lillie declared that Mr. Templeton could 
 go in her book just as he was.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 "Lo ! a cloud about to vanish from the day ; 
 
 And a brazen wrong to crumble into clay. 
 
 Lo ! the right is about to conquer ; CLKAR THE WAT I 
 
 With the right shall many more 
 
 Enter smiling at the door ; 
 
 With the giant wrong shall fall 
 
 Many others, great and small, 
 That for ages long have held us for their prey, 
 Men of thought and men of action, CLEAR THE WAY I 
 
 Charles Mackay. 
 
 NO TRACE of William Strasmore's assassin 
 had been found. Although the most skillful 
 detectives had been employed to work the case, so 
 carefully had the murderer covered his tracks, 
 there was no clue left to work on. His friends 
 and outraged law could only wait and hope that 
 in time "murder would out." 
 
 The good seed sown by William Strasmore, 
 had taken root, and was now ready to multiply. 
 His class of thirteen boys whom we have men- 
 tioned, as they stood beside the dead form of 
 their beloved instructor, and realized that their 
 dearest, wisest earthly counselor had been snatch- 
 
 228
 
 THE WORST FOE. 22p 
 
 ed away from them, perhaps by the demons 
 against whom he made war, vowed then and there, 
 eternal enmity to rum. They did not seek re- 
 venge against even his fell destroyer, for his as- 
 sassin was man, and William Strasmore but a 
 martyr to the truth; but they sought vengeance, 
 and the destruction of the enemy of mankind, 
 The Wotst Foe, KING ALCOHOL. By the side of 
 their murdered teacher, feeling his loss as only 
 boys of their age and hard experience can, they 
 pledged themselves anew never to forget his 
 teachings ; never to frequent places of vice ; 
 always to regard whisky as their worst foe ; to 
 touch not, taste not, and handle not ; and never 
 to let an opportunity pass to strike a blow at the 
 hideous evil which was sweeping every day 
 thousands of loved ones into the flaming pit of 
 hell. Clothed in this strong armor of safety, 
 these gallant boys have gone through fiery trials 
 unscorched, and we shall hear from them in the 
 future. Some of them finished the race of life 
 at an early age, and entered into that joy known 
 only to the blest. Others were called to differ- 
 ent parts of the country. Although they were 
 not free from the temptations of strong drink, 
 although in every city and town, gilded dens of 
 dee, where cooling liquids during the heated 
 term and hot, drinks in winter, were temptingly 
 displayed, they never yielded. 
 
 "I'd die before I'd touch it," said Bill Barnes,
 
 23O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 and he would. Bill has been completely meta- 
 morphosed. He is a studious lawyer's clerk, 
 and bids fair to make a promising attorney. One 
 hot day while in a strange city on business, Bill 
 was consumed with a burning thirst. Oh, for a 
 drink of cool water ! He was far from his hotel, 
 and he asked an attorney in whose office he was 
 transacting business, for a drink of water. 
 
 "Go down below and you will find a saloon. 
 We always go there for a fresh drink," said the 
 attorney. Bill explained that he wanted water. 
 "Very well, they keep iced water there. " 
 
 Bill hesitated several moments, and decided to 
 go, for his throat was dry and parched. When 
 he entered the saloon and called for a drink of 
 water, the proprietor gruffly answered : 
 
 "I don't keep water to giveaway." 
 
 "I will buy it," said Bill. 
 
 "We don't sell water," said the proprietor, 
 "but if you will buy a glass of beer, we will give 
 you all the water you want." 
 
 Bill reflected a moment, and his old reckless 
 spirit for the moment got the better of him. 
 "Bring on the beer and plenty of iced water." 
 A moment later this smiling agent of the devil 
 had brought the young man a glass of foaming 
 beer and a glass of iced water. Bill paid for 
 them, and taking up the glass of water, drained it. 
 
 "I have drank the water, now you may have 
 the beer," he said, and with this he threw beer,
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2$I 
 
 glass and all, into the proprietor's face, and hur- 
 riedly left the saloon. This little incident lead 
 Bill to think that many young men entering cities 
 were forced to drink liquor they really did not 
 want. He began advocating a new reform ; that 
 the temperance people shall provide in large cities, 
 suitable places where pure cold water could be 
 found by strangers, without having to go into a 
 saloon to slake their thirst. We see many such 
 fountains now, but there are not near enough to 
 supply the demand. 
 
 In Staunton, things were growing worse. The 
 number of saloons and breweries were increasing, 
 and with them the increase in the number of 
 other places of vice. The temperance organiza- 
 tions, having lost their wide-awake leader, did 
 not feel strong enough to undertake to diminish 
 the increasing strongholds of the enemy, and 
 things seemed to run riot. Temperance people 
 had grown discouraged and had almost abandoned 
 the field, when the "Woman's Christian Tem- 
 perance Union" sprang nobly to the rescue, raised 
 the battle cry and rallied the wavering forces for 
 a grand assault against the enemy's works. 
 
 At this time there was a band of teetotalers, the 
 remnant of a once prosperous organization, and 
 a few others who felt like holding the fort as long 
 as possible. They sought co-operation with the 
 Woman's Christian Temperance Union, to help 
 try and suppress the evil. Weekly entertain-
 
 232 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 ments were given, consisting of temperance lec- 
 tures, songs and music. These meetings were 
 held in a hall near the* neighborhood where most 
 of the saloons were flourishing. The whisky 
 men muttered threats and curses against this 
 dangerous organization, as well as against the 
 Woman's Christian Temperance Union, which 
 together had created an interest which was draw- 
 ing hundreds of customers away from them. 
 
 Soon after the foreclosure of the mortgage on 
 the Denesmore home, George Greene, the tem- 
 perance boy whom we have mentioned, and who 
 was now almost a man and still a worker in the 
 cause, was placed on the committee for arranging 
 a programme for the next entertainment. He 
 proposed that they engage Miss Pauline Denes- 
 more to prepare an essay. Pauline had been so 
 completely buried in her own sorrow, that she 
 had for the last few years almost completely 
 dropped out of the temperance organization. 
 Some thought it would be placing Pauline in an 
 embarrassing position, but a gentleman who had 
 known her in the past, as a temperance worker, 
 was sure that she would feel a relief in being able 
 to do the cause some good now. 
 
 ''She was once well known in this city," the 
 gentleman continued; "but since those great 
 sorrows have fallen upon her she has kept herself 
 shut out from the world. Her sad history is 
 well known, however, and the announcement that
 
 THE WORST FOE. 233 
 
 she is to speak on the question of temperance, 
 will fill our hall to overflowing. It might be pain- 
 ful to her, and the great change we shall witness 
 in her will be painful to ourselves, but will it 
 not have its effect for good ? Will not every word 
 she utters be more effective, and the conviction 
 of every truth sink deep into the hearts of her 
 hearers? Nothing is more impressive than an 
 ocular demonstration of an evil, and such we 
 shall have." 
 
 When the request was made to Miss Denes- 
 more, she paused for a few moments to consider 
 whether she could accomplish the task or not. 
 * 'Could she accomplish any good by it," she 
 asked herself. She had once told her father that 
 she intended to improve by William's worthy ex- 
 ample, and "sow by all waters." Months 
 had grown into years, while she sunk deeper and 
 deeper into despair, with scarce a hope for any- 
 thing better in this life. After a few moments 
 of awkward silence, she answered : 
 
 ' 'I am glad you have called on me, for although 
 it will cost me a great effort, I am willing to do 
 all in my power to put down the foe that has 
 brought me so much misery. Although I may 
 never know that my words have taken effect, yet 
 my soul will be in the work, and we can only ask 
 a blessing thereon." 
 
 "Your labor will not be in vain, Miss Denes- 
 more," said George Greene. "The work begun
 
 234 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 by Mr. Strasmore, has brought forth principles 
 in us as fixed as the stars, and the harvest is not 
 yet." 
 
 She consented, and chose for her subject, The 
 Ballot. The committee had made arrangements 
 to procure a prohibition lecturer to follow the 
 essay, and on their return the programme was 
 completed and sent to the printer. Next day, 
 bill posters were busy putting up the following ; 
 
 "TEMPERANCE! TEMPERANCE! 
 
 DON'T FAIL TO COME. 
 MISS PAULINE DENESMORE, 
 
 WILL READ AN ORIGINAL ESSAY ON 
 
 "THE BALLOT," 
 
 WHICH WILL BE FOLLOWED BY AN ABLE 
 
 PROHIBITION LECTURE, 
 
 BY 
 
 HON. W. A. STRASMORE. 
 
 AT TEMPERANCE HALL, ON CORNER OF MAIN AND 
 
 MYRTLE STREETS, WEDNESDAY EVE., 
 
 AT 7:30 P. M." 
 
 December, A. D^, 187-. 
 
 These bills were read and re-read. The saloon 
 keepers whispered with each other. Paulinf 
 Denesmore was going to read an original
 
 THE WORST FOE. 235 
 
 and they knew they would be handled without 
 gloves. The name Strasmore produced profound 
 wonder among all classes of people. Who could 
 he be ? probably he was some distant relative of 
 Lawyer Strasmore, perhaps he had inherited his 
 love of the temperance cause. Quite likely this 
 Hon. W. A. Strasmore was a great uncle, thought 
 some. Others who knew that William had no 
 relatives, thought it only a strange co-incidence. 
 
 George Greene had chosen the man Strasmore 
 from three names given him, knowing that 
 the name in connection with Pauline's would 
 be sure to attract a crowd, for everybody had 
 heard her sad story. He was correct, for the 
 names excited comment, and soon there was 
 great anxiety to see and hear them. 
 
 There were two persons whose feelings were 
 stirred at sight of these bills. One, a man of 
 means and fashionably dressed, who might 
 have been mistaken for a gentleman, paused at 
 one, read it, and hurried away down the street, 
 while strange emotions marked his features. 
 The other was a sort of a shabby genteel person- 
 age, walking along the street, his head bowed 
 and steps unsteady, and his clothes all much the 
 worse for wear. He paused in front of one of 
 the posters, for his bleared eyes had caught a 
 name which to him seemed familiar, and steady- 
 ing himself, read it through. 
 
 "Pauline Denesmore an essay on the ballot ! "
 
 236 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 he ejaculated, "Oh, Heaven, I have driven her 
 to it ! Who is Strasmore ? I would like to talk 
 with him no, I can't meet a gentleman, for I 
 feel my fallen condition every time I see one. 
 Oh, Will! is there a hereafter, as we believed? 
 If I knew there was not, to-morrow would know 
 the end of this miserable existence." 
 
 The air seemed filled with imps and his hand 
 became a wreathing serpent and still he knew it 
 to be his own hand. The imps on his shoulder 
 almost set his brain wild by crying: ''End your 
 existence ! end your existence ! " 
 
 In this state of mind Dr. Denesmore reached 
 home and went directly to Pauline's room. At 
 sight of his sister bending over her essay, he 
 gave utterance to a groan of anguish. She 
 laid aside her manuscript, and went to work to 
 comfort him as best she could. He began talk- 
 ing about Strasmore, and she tried to explain 
 that the lecturer was only another man of the 
 same name. He could not be related to William 
 Strasmore for he had no relations. Guy stood 
 staring at her in such a wild manner that she be- 
 came frightened, and was about to call some one, 
 when he fell upon the floor, screaming and claw- 
 ing as if fighting some monster. 
 
 "Take it off! take it off ! take this wild-cat 
 away from me, it is tearing my throat to pieces !" 
 he screamed. Assistance came and the sufferer 
 was removed to his room and Dr. Patterson sent 
 for.
 
 DELIRIUM TREMENS. 
 'What is it, doctor, is he mad or insane?" See page 237.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 237 
 
 Poor Pauline was in deep distress. She could 
 only walk the floor and wring her hands in silence. 
 What did all this madness mean ? When the 
 doctor came, she waited until he had examined 
 his patient and administered some nerve quieting 
 narcotics. As the doctor came out, he found the 
 white-faced lady waiting in the hall for him. 
 
 "Oh ! what is it, doctor, is he mad or insane ?"" 
 she asked. 
 
 "No, no, Miss Denesmore," said the doctor,, 
 evasively. "Poor Guy is slightly deranged for 
 the present, but I think he will come out of it 
 all right. I shall give him every care." 
 
 "What is it, doctor, oh, what gives him that 
 wild stare, and makes him scream of snakes and 
 beasts ? " 
 
 "He has delirium tremens ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. j 
 
 PAULINE'S EFFORTS BLESSED. 
 
 "For nothing lovelier can be found 
 In woman, than to study household good, 
 Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed 
 Labor, as to debar us when we need 
 Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, 
 Food of the mind." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 PAULINE was aware of the suffering and dis- 
 grace of her brother, but the doctor had pro- 
 nounced him out of danger and said that it might 
 be a lesson to him yet, and bring about a refor- 
 mation. She had been asked to help in the effort 
 to suppress this evil; and timid, modest Pauline, 
 though not one of those persons who long to im- 
 mortalize themselves on the platform, yet re- 
 solved to do what she could. Her words might 
 not bear more than a feather's weight, yet she 
 would add her mite. 
 
 The evening on which she was to make her 
 debut came, and cowering, trembling Pauline 
 tound the hall crowded. It was with some diffi- 
 culty that George Greene conducted the pale, 
 trembling young lady to the rostrum. Her face 
 
 238
 
 THE WORST FOE. 239 
 
 was in ghostly contrast with her mourning gar- 
 ments, and many who had known her only in 
 the days of happiness and prosperity, could scarce 
 believe that she was the same person. 
 
 "Licker done it all," Sam Brown whispered 
 to his neighbor. "I tell ye, if there's a cuss on 
 earth, it's licker. " 
 
 The temperance choir haa prepared that ex- 
 cellent temperance song composed by Rev. S. 
 A. Worcester, a missionary among the Indians, 
 and the organ striking up, they began the fa- 
 mous 
 
 CRAMBAMBULI 
 
 My drink shall be the flowing fountain, 
 
 Transparent, sparkling, cool and pure. 
 Fresh from the cleft of rock or mountain, 
 
 For fevered head and thirst, a cure. 
 Ye maddening drinks begone from me, 
 
 Rum, whisky and crambambuli, 
 Ye pois'nous drinks, begone from me, 
 
 Wine, cider, and crambambuli. 4 
 
 "I saw a sight most melancholy, 
 
 A drunkard in the public way ; 
 His face was fire, his voice was folly, 
 
 There wallowing, like a swine he lay. 
 Ye fiery drinks, begone from me, 
 
 Gin, brandy a-ad crambambuli; 
 Ye drinks of sols, begone from me, 
 
 Ale, porter, and crambambuli. 
 
 *Crambambuli is a name given to a drink used in the Ger- 
 man Universities. It is prepared by mixing rum and sugar 
 and burning it. The above is really a parody composed by 
 the missionary, on a once celebrated drinking song.
 
 24O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "Long as I live, the thought I'll cherish, 
 
 If Heaven vouchsafe to keep me free, 
 Strong drink is but the way to perish ; 
 
 Cold water is the drink for me. 
 Ye murderous drinks, begone from me, 
 
 Wine, brandy and crambambuli, 
 Ye drinks of fools, begone from me, 
 
 Beer, sherry and crambambuli." 
 
 During the singing, Pauline sat trembling and 
 dreading the coming ordeal. It was during the 
 third stanza that she became quite herself, and a 
 firm determination to do or die took possession 
 of her soul. She saw not the faces of the au- 
 dience, she thought not of herself; she only saw 
 the pale sweet face of her brother's suffering 
 child, and thought of Guy's degradation, and 
 said to herself : 
 
 ' 'Now with all the strength God may give me, 
 I will strike a blow at whisky." When the 
 song was ended, she rose, unrolled her manu- 
 script, and in a firm, yet sweetly melancholy 
 voice, began : 
 
 "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: 
 
 "A few years ago, had one told me that I should 
 ever take the stand as a public speaker, I should have 
 pronounced that person a false prophet. To one 
 who does not desire notoriety, even the reading of an 
 essay is an arduous task; and if men who claim to be 
 our protectors would protect us, woman would be 
 silent on all subjects. The most patient wives, moth- 
 ers and sisters are sometimes roused by indignities
 
 THE WORST FOE. 24! 
 
 and cruelties too great to bear. The pioneer mother, 
 who in the absence of her husband, defended her 
 home against blood-thirsty savages, has for a century 
 had her praises as a heroine sung. Had there been 
 men at hand to defend her and her children, she 
 would never have taken the rifle in her hand to de- 
 fend herself. It was only when the men proved pow- 
 erless to defend France, that Joan d'Arc took the 
 sword in hand. It was only when the gunners de- 
 serted the cannon at Monmouth, that the famous 
 Captain Molly took command of the artillery, and in 
 all these instances women have been called heroines, 
 and their praises sounded by the historian. There is 
 no one now so foolish as to sneer at them, and say 
 their acts were acts of folly. Who would be foolish 
 enough to say that the mother who defended her 
 children from the savage was unladylike, and that she 
 should have staid quietly at her fireside, and let 
 her husband or some of the hunters come and defend 
 her? Woman, you say, is weak. So she is, but in 
 the midst of dire calamities, she has been known to 
 become strong, and with a courage equal to man's has 
 accomplished wonders. Those heroines of the past 
 are lauded by the very persons who to-day sneer at 
 the efforts of wives, mothers, daughters and sisters to 
 save husbands, fathers, brothers and sons. If a wo- 
 man who gallantly risks her life for her children, or 
 for her country is to be praised, why will you deride, 
 abuse, and call that woman unwomanly, who seeks 
 to save those who are dearer to her than life, from a 
 living and an endless death ? This question is not 
 new, and yet it will never grow old. It is a picture
 
 242 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 upon which we gaze with horror, and being made up 
 of living figures a change is constantly going on. 
 The hunter even pities the tigress that defends her 
 young ; but the mother who would sweep the rum 
 shops that degrade and ruin her children, from the 
 face of the earth, must hold her tongue, or she will 
 come under the awful ban of unwomanly conduct 
 Women cannot bear everything. Poor unfortunate 
 females, struggling like slaves for an existence, while 
 they see the miserable men who promised to love 
 and protect them, spending the combined earnings 
 of both in the saloon. Not only does the wife find her 
 own earnings going into the coffers of the saloon 
 keeper, but she is cheated of 'the affection of that 
 man who promised her love and protection! Grad- 
 ually she sees the man who was once the kindest of 
 husbands transformed into a demon, and love changed 
 to hate. Poor weary soul ! no wonder you rebel 
 against such harsh treatment, and forgetting you are 
 a woman determine to be free. You gentlemen who 
 have promised us, and who still make lavish promises of 
 protection, why do you not give it? Look on 
 those ragged, helpless children in the street, look 
 at that pale-faced starving woman in the alley, and 
 go to the morgue and gaze upon the disfigured and 
 swollen victim of these robbers, and then deny the 
 truth of the assertion. Do not hurry away, my friend, 
 but stand there long enough to study that ghastly 
 corse. There is a broad high brow, which once a 
 mother kissed; there is a face once honest; there is 
 a great heart which once beat warm with love, but 
 now cold and silent forever. He was a gentle child,
 
 THE WORST FOE. 243 
 
 a loving husband and kind father, until caught in the 
 toils of the dread destroyer, he fell. His whole 
 nature then was changed. He became a brute, and 
 all his love was changed to hate. The wife whom he 
 once greeted with words of affection and caresses, 
 now only receives curses and blows. His little child- 
 ren no longer wait with bright, expectant eyes for 
 their father's footsteps, and run to greet him on his 
 return, but awed with a terror the poor little things 
 cannot understand, they hide at his approach, and 
 remain trembling and dreading that father whom it 
 is their nature to love. Who blames the mother of 
 those children if she forgets she is a woman, and 
 arming herself as best she can, flies to the defence of 
 herself, her children, and the most wretched of that 
 wretched family, her husband. But it is too late to 
 save him ; his body lies at the morgue j he has been 
 slain by the robbers. Not only is he deprived of his life, 
 but of his immortal soul. The same monsters threaten 
 her children, her relatives and friends. The robber 
 chief is KING ALCOHOL himself, and why condemn the 
 woman, when she risesand with all the strength she 
 possesses, defends her loved ones from the demon. 
 Oh, the air is full of wailing and anguish ! If we 
 would only open our eyes and ears to the misery, we 
 would never sleep. The picture is too horrible to 
 admit of any sleep, save that of exhaustion. There 
 are little children crying on the corner of the street 
 now ; their thin ragged clothing not sufficient to pro- 
 tect them from even milder weather than this. There 
 is a woman, yes many women, even now, shivering 
 at home trying to warm the almost lifeless body of a
 
 244 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 sick child, while the husband and father is spending 
 the money that should go to buy fuel for his family, 
 at the saloon. It is only one picture among tens of 
 thousands of others, none of which are overdrawn. 
 Patient, suffering woman, on her bended knees, with 
 hands clasped and streaming eyes, implores man 
 to save her from this misery, this degradation and 
 woe. If she goes to the saloon keeper to ask him 
 to spare her, she is greeted with sneers, scoffs and 
 indignation. Those whom she loves most are per- 
 ishing, what must she do ? But one thing seems left 
 and that is prayers and tears. That poor, suffer- 
 ing woman, feels as if God had forsaken her. 
 She knows a remedy for the wrong and though she 
 can whisper it, she is unable to bring justice about. 
 On that dark horizon of hers, a light appears. It 
 takes the form of a word, and in bright, burnished let- 
 ters of gold, there stands out the word 
 
 PROHIBITION, 
 
 as her salvation. But how can she bring it about ? 
 She has no vote. The rumshops are there the temp- 
 tations face her husband on every hand, and she is 
 powerless to sweep them away. Men who are her 
 protectors, who boast of chivalry and courtesy to 
 the weaker sex, seem to forget them when it comes 
 to voting. Licensed robbers and murderers are per- 
 mitted to go at large. Temptation is made legal, and 
 the woman can only suffer and die in silence, or make 
 her appeal to man, her natural protector. As such I 
 come to-night. We ask you not the privilege of vot- 
 ing, if you will protect us. Your party fealty may 
 be dear to you ; your obligations to a political friend
 
 THE WORST FOE. 245 
 
 great your political promises very sacred ; but what 
 can they be compared to the interest womankind has 
 in this subject? Is it as dear as husband, father, 
 brother or child ? Is it as great as the life of a loved 
 one ? Is it as sacred as the tie which binds husband 
 to wife, father to child, or son to his parents ? 
 
 Then, kind friends, don't sneer at us poor, weak 
 women, when we appeal to you to have mercy on us, 
 and protect us from these merciless robbers and mur- 
 derers, for I can call them by no milder term. We 
 are in deadly peril, and from every wretched hovel, 
 from every alley and street there comes the cry of 
 anguish wrung from the hearts of mothers, daughters 
 and sisters, "Oh, save us ! save us! spare our 
 loved ones ! " Will you heed our cry? Will you re- 
 member it when you vote, and cast your vote for 
 temperance laws, and for judges who will not 
 seek technical flaws to declare them unconstitutional. 
 Give us relief, for we are perishing by thousands. 
 Give us wholesome prohibition laws and honest pro- 
 hibition officers to execute them, and these dark 
 clouds will soon roll away. The rags will fall from 
 the suffering children on the streets, to be replaced 
 by comfortable clothing ; the pale wan face of the 
 mother, wife and daughter, will become flushed with 
 health. The dark, dreary hovel will be transformed 
 to a comfortable home. Where there is now misery, 
 vice, cruelty and death, there will be happiness, 
 peace, prosperity, love and joy, and such a burst of 
 sunshine will come through these dark clouds, that 
 we will almost think that the kingdom of Heav- 
 en has been set up on earth."
 
 246 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 All embarrassment had left Pauline before she 
 had completed her essay. As she sat down, there 
 was a slight ripple of applause, which grew and 
 increased in volume until the building shook as 
 if with thunder. She now felt that the effect of 
 her labors were not lost. Many who had known 
 her only as a happy, innocent girl, were in tears 
 when she concluded, for although she had made no 
 mention of her own woe, it was known to all. 
 For some time the commotion was so great that 
 nothing like order could be restored. At last 
 the choir sang a song, and then Hon. W. A. 
 Strasmore was introduced to the audience. Paul- 
 ine had so entirely forgotten the lecturer, that 
 the mention of his name startled her as if she 
 had heard it for the first time. As he advanced 
 to take his place at the stand, Pauline's eyes 
 were fastened on him. She forgot all else in 
 that striking resemblance to the man whom she 
 had loved with all her heart, but who had for 
 years slept in his grave. The features, the height 
 and build were almost the same. This man was 
 older and heavier ; but just what William might 
 have been at his age. 
 
 Why had she felt such unnatural strength to- 
 night ? She seemed at peace now, and to have 
 forgotten the heartaches of the day. It seemed 
 that the happiness of the present hung on the 
 words and gestures of that man. His hair thick- 
 ly sprinkled with gray, and his clear, ringing
 
 THE WORST FOE. 247 
 
 voice had about it something reassuring and 
 soothing to the poor, wearied soul. Was day 
 dawning at last?
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE TEMPERANCE LECTURER. HIS STORY. 
 
 Oh, weep for those that wept at Babel's stream, 
 Whose shrine is desolate, whose land a dream ; 
 Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell, 
 Mourn where their God hath dwelt the godless dwelL 
 Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast, 
 How shall ye flee away and be at rest ? 
 
 Byron. 
 
 After the applause that followed the conclusion 
 of Pauline's essay had subsided, the chairman 
 announced the name of Hon. W. A. Strasmore, 
 and in a moment all was breathless stillness. 
 The appearance of this gentleman had already 
 excited curiosity, and impressed the discerning 
 ones of the audience, with the idea that he must 
 be a man with an experience worth telling, if not 
 a history worth recording. The well marked 
 lines upon his features, and that inexpressible 
 light of the eye, could not be without a meaning. 
 They were the chisel marks the sculpturing of 
 time and conflict. They not only indicate 
 most skillful workmanship, but they tell of 
 the strength and fineness of the material. 
 Just as an artist cannot give expression 
 
 248
 
 THE WORST FOE. 249 
 
 to feature or character upon poor marble, 
 so the fires of afflictions and struggles of life 
 leave upon the features of a phlegmatic, aim- 
 less soul no well marked lines of battle nor signs 
 of victory. 
 
 When Mr. Strasmore began speaking, it was 
 soon apparent from the intonation and modulation 
 of his voice that he was a. man of strong emo- 
 tions and deep convictions. Let us listen to his 
 own words : 
 
 BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF HUMANITY. My 
 heart has been greatly stirred, as I have listened to 
 the touching truths and pathetic words of the lady 
 who has preceded me. Yes, woman has been called 
 from her retreat, and thank God, she has nobly re- 
 sponded to the call. If it had not been for her sav- 
 ing hand, I would not be before you now. I used 
 to ridicule the woman's crusade. I did not stop to 
 think what prompted the movement. I was too much 
 steeped in depravity to discover the unseen, but 
 mighty influence by which they were inspired. But 
 that crusade, composed of the bravest women that 
 ever blessed any country, lifted many a fallen brother 
 from the lowest depths, set him on his feet, knelt 
 around him and called down upon him that same in- 
 fluence by which they themselves were moved ; and 
 that influence came upon him as the breath of Heav- 
 en, permeated his being as a life current, cooled his 
 over-heated blood, cleared his beclouded brain, and 
 made him feel that a new spirit was within him, and 
 hope and courage took the place of despair.
 
 25O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 That crusade movement and its angels, lifted me 
 from the lowest fallen estate to which mortal man can 
 plunge lifted me up from drunkenness and its accom- 
 panying vices, to a position where I could see my past 
 sin and folly. They inspired me with a desire for a 
 better life ; they gave me that assuring grasp of the 
 hand that told of their friendship. Those pure, noble 
 women took me, sin-polluted as I was, and bade me 
 God speed. 
 
 The eloquent lady who has preceded me has asked 
 us to vote for prohibition of the liquor traffic. 
 And in that appeal she only voiced the sentiment of 
 that great army of noble women whom God has in- 
 spired with a clearer vision of the situation, dan- 
 ger and remedy than He has the men of the land. 
 She has expressed the sentiment of the myriads of 
 broken-hearted wives and mothers whom rum has 
 crushed. 
 
 Her pathetic eloquence has stirred your hearts 
 more than I can expect to do. The pictures she has 
 given you are not fancy sketches, but are drawn from 
 real life. My own experience, and my own sad story are 
 more vivid and terrible than any words can describe. 
 I will give you a chapter in my history before I am 
 through. But for the present I want to call your 
 attention to some reasons why the American saloon 
 should be abolished. 
 
 First among the reasons is, the saloon keeper gives 
 no value for the money he receives. The grocer 
 gives value in return for your money. You cannot 
 do without groceries. The dry goods merchant gives 
 an equivalent value for the dollars you pay him.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 The mechanic gives an equivalent ; the butcher, the 
 baker, the jeweler, the shoemaker, the artist, the 
 teacher, the preacher all give an equivalent for the 
 money paid them. But the goods he gives are not food, 
 nor clothing, nor medicine. They do not add to the 
 comfort of the patron nor help to brighten his home ; 
 but just the reverse. They make the purchaser more 
 miserable, and turn his home into a place of weeping 
 and woe. 
 
 But if the saloon keeper does not give that which 
 is of any value, he takes money for naught, and 
 therefore robs his patrons. The distilled liquors are 
 rank poisons. But beer contains some nutrition. 
 Yes, some. How much ? Leibig, the great German 
 chemist has analyzed it. What does he say about the 
 food properties ? He says "A glass of beer contains 
 only as much food as the flour that you could lift on 
 the point of a knife ; and it would take nine gallons 
 of the best Bavarian beer to contain as much food as 
 a loaf of bread. Now who wants to make a swill 
 tub of his stomach, and strain nine gallons of beer 
 through it to catch a loaf of bread ! " 
 
 With these facts before us, we say the saloon 
 keeper, by reducing the value of property, and 
 by taking money for that which is worthless, becomes 
 a robber of the community and of his patrons, and 
 his business should be abolished. 
 
 Second. He injures his patrons. No one has ever 
 observed the effect that frequenting saloons has upon 
 men, but has come to the conclusion that visiting 
 saloons injures men. Many a rich man has become 
 a pauper and a vagabond by patronizing saloons.
 
 252 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Many an honest clerk, or official,has become dishonest 
 through the agency of saloons. Business men, as a 
 rule, will not employ clerks who habitually drink. A 
 drinking man is so liable to excesses of all kinds, that 
 no wise banker will admit a drinking clerk behind his- 
 counter. Why is this ? It is simply the world's ver- 
 dict that the saloon keeper not only robs his patrons, 
 of their money, but destroys their moral character. 
 What the world has so generally recognized as true, 
 I need not stop to prove before this intelligent audi- 
 ence. There are too many homes being made deso- 
 late all about us for any argument to equal the 
 facts with which you are acquainted. There is that 
 poor, hard-working stone-mason, who had concluded 
 a 400 dollar contract for a job, and next day was to 
 sign it ; but in the evening he went into a saloon, 
 the saloon keeper made him drunk, and he lost the 
 job, and his family lost the support. Go ask his wife 
 if the saloon is not a curse ! There is that mother, 
 whose son has been enticed into tbe gilded palaces- 
 where Satan, with smiling face and jeweled hand, 
 deals out the broth of hell ; that young man has 
 tasted it, and the serpent of the still has charmed 
 him as a bird is charmed by a snake. At last, the 
 son becomes a drunkard, loses his place, becomes a 
 wreck that nobody will employ, and the widowed 
 mother takes in sewing, or goes to the wash-tub for 
 support. Go ask her if the saloon keeper injures 
 his patrons. 
 
 There recently died a man, who, a few years ago, 
 was a great railroad king, employing thousands of 
 men and worth millions of dollars. What did the liquor
 
 THE WORST FOE. 253 
 
 itealer do for him ? Bankrupted him of his fortune, 
 ruined his health, ruined his fair name, jostled reason 
 from its throne, and ended his career in a maniac's 
 cell. Go ask his poverty-stricken family if the liquor 
 dealer is a blessing or a curse. 
 
 Again, six years ago, a wealthy farmer with good 
 reputation, was elected to the Legislature of one 
 of the great northern States. He got to drinking 
 with politicians ; became habitually intemperate ; and 
 intemperance led to other vices. The story is short 
 the other day the sheriff sold his property; and the 
 poor victim has gone to hide from his shame in one 
 of the great prohibition States of the West. Who 
 will measure the injury to the wife and children 
 in that case ? The other day, in one of the wealthy 
 streets in the city where your speaker lives, you might 
 have seen a poor, miserable man going from door to 
 door, asking for something to eat, and for a little money. 
 Who is the miserable creature ? He is what the liquor 
 dealer has left of what was once the Hon. A. B., a 
 most popular statesman ; three times he was elected 
 Speaker of the House of Representatives, an honor 
 conferred upon no other man in his State. He was 
 then sent to Congress. But the saloon keeper laid 
 his hand upon him, and now he eats cold victuals 
 from the kitchen doors. 
 
 Every drinker is injured. The man who drinks little, 
 is injured little ; the man who drinks much, is in. 
 juredmuch; all are injured who drink. "Can a 
 man take fire into his bosom and not be burned ?" 
 Then the work of the liquor dealer is not merely that 
 of getting money without giving value. It is worse. 
 It adds injury to robbery.
 
 254 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 .Third: The traffic m intoxicants as a beverage, 
 increases the taxes of the sober people of a community. 
 This assertion needs no proof. All the police and 
 criminal court records have abundantlv proven it. 
 In one great city of four hundred and fifty thousand 
 inhabitants the police record shows that ninety-two 
 per cent, of the arrests are occasioned by the saloon 
 traffic. The vagabonds who are thus arrested and 
 tried at enormous expense, pay no taxes themselves, 
 as a rule. Then the expense of their arrest and im- 
 prisonment and trials must be paid by the sober, tax- 
 paying people. A man recently shot his wife in a 
 drunken quarrel. The arrest, and repeated trials in 
 the Courts, cost about ten thousand dollars. This 
 adds ten thousand to the taxes of sober people. 
 Another man who was strictly honest when sober, 
 but who always wanted to steal when in liquor, 
 stole a coat, and the arrest and trials, dragging through 
 the Courts for many months cost four thousand dol- 
 lars. Add that to the taxes. Who will pay it ? 
 Thus it is with all the trials, great and small, that grow 
 out of this traffic. Every trial adds to the taxes. 
 Then the jails, and lockups and penitentiaries that 
 must be built to take care of the liquor criminals add 
 to the taxes. Adds how much to the taxes ? We 
 may not tell you exactly, but I can give you a few 
 facts that will enable you to judge. For instance, it 
 is an admitted fact that about seven-eighths of the 
 crimes committed are the result of the saloon traffic. 
 Then would it not be right to say seven-eighths of 
 the cost of criminal prosecution come from this traffic ? 
 The tax is thus increased in that proportion.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Again, it is admitted that intemperance greatly in- 
 creases insanity and idiocy; therefore, the taxes 
 necessary to build and support institutions to take 
 care of the imbecile and the insane, must increase. 
 The most prolific known cause of pauperism is intem- 
 perance ; hence, if you build a salooon, or grant a 
 license, you must increase the taxes to meet the con- 
 sequent increase of pauperism. If you get a hundred 
 dollars for the license, you may add a thousand dollars 
 to the taxes. If you collect a million dollars for licenses 
 in a State, you may safely calculate to collect ten mil- 
 lions more of taxes to take care of the work of ther 
 venders. 
 
 In one State where twelve thousand venders paid 
 two millions for the privilege of selling, they took in 
 over seventy millions from the people for that which 
 was naught. What an untold amount of crime and 
 wretchedness was given in place of the fifty million 
 thus collected ! Are we abject slaves that we suffer 
 such wrongs ? In a certain large town which has no- 
 saloons, nor druggists who sell liquors to be drank, 
 the entire cost of police and city government ex- 
 penses is $4,000 per year ; while in another town of 
 the same size, with licensed dramshops, the cost of 
 police and city government is $40,000. Does not in- 
 temperance, then, add tenfold to your taxes ? Any law 
 that permits the business, oppresses us with taxes. 
 
 My fourth reason for urging the destruction of 
 saloons, is that they are schools of vice. The worst 
 classes of the community collect in, and about, the 
 saloons, and, over the maddening bowl, they whet their 
 passion for deeds of violence. With most men, the 
 effect of strong drink is to put all moral faculties to
 
 256 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 rest, and to stimulate the baser instincts. It is then 
 that men are easily led astray. Boys are thus plunged 
 into the vortex of ruin. It is about the saloon that 
 those women congregate " who flatter with their 
 tongue, but whose steps take hold on hell." Solomon 
 says, ' ' Her house is the way of death. " How it was 
 in Solomon s day we do not know; but now she builds 
 her house,or arranges her room, hard by the gin palace, 
 that she may ensnare the youth. In the saloon, the 
 assassin whets his knife ; in the saloon, the lustful 
 prepares for rapine ; in the saloon, the desperado lights 
 his torch for arson ; in the saloon, Satan mixes his 
 ' ' double distilled broth of hell, worse than witches 
 ever brewed," and pours it out for the foolish 
 youth, who drinks it and goes out bewitched, calling 
 evil good and good evil, goes into all the avenues of 
 vice, making Pandemonium out of Paradise. 
 
 Can these schools of vice be longer permitted to 
 remain in your midst ? Are you not convinced that 
 these outposts of Satan threaten your homes and all 
 you hold dear ? 
 
 A. fifth reason for my warfare, my hearers, is that 
 the saloons are preying upon our boys. They are 
 preying upon the boys of the land more than a for- 
 eign army a hundred thousand strong. It has 
 been well said that ' ' a saloon can no more run 
 without using up boys, than can a saw-mill run with- 
 out using up logs." We may change the figure and 
 say, "a saloon can no more run without using up boys 
 than a slaughter house can run without using up hogs 
 and cattle." There are a million drunkards in the 
 United States of America. One hundred thousand
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 of them die annually. As these drunkards drop into 
 the grave, the saloon lays its hands on a hundred 
 thousand boys to fill up the ranks. If a foreign army 
 were in the land with guns and bayonets destroying 
 half so many lives, and wrecking half so much prop- 
 erty as the two hundred thousand saloon keepers, we 
 would fly to arms. Our church bells would ring, and 
 all our brave men would arise and drive out the enemy, 
 if it cost them their lives. But here is this great enemy, 
 and we quietly suffer his ravages. " Be we men, and 
 suffer such dishonor ?" This enemy threatens the 
 overthrow of our nation, and of our liberties. From 
 the President in the White House, with his cellar full 
 of liquors, to the road supervisor in the corner town- 
 ship, our officials are becoming corrupt through strong 
 drink. The nations that are gone, went down through 
 intemperance and its attendant curses. 
 
 In the language of one of the heroes of the Rev- 
 olution, I ask you, citizens of Staunton, to-night, 
 " Shall we lie supinely down and let this enemy bind 
 us, hand and foot ? " 
 
 Now when I have shown you that the liquor vender 
 takes money, and gives no equivalent value, hence im- 
 poverishes his patrons ; and, further, that he injures his 
 patrons in property, health and morals ; and that he 
 increases the taxes of the sober peopk, hence all the com- 
 munity suffers ; and, again, that these saloons and liquor 
 shops are schools of vice ; and, lastly, that they art 
 using up boys when I have shown you these things, 
 you must be ready to say, ' ' We are convinced ; the 
 liquor shop must go ; never mind the rest of your 
 reasons, we will abolish this foul blot from the com- 
 
 (17)
 
 2$8 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 munity; we will cut this cancer from the body 
 politic ; we will pull down this mill that grinds to 
 pieces our boys ; we will put an end to these schools 
 of vice." That is well. Let your zeal harden into 
 actions. 
 
 But stay a moment. I must claim your attention 
 to one more reason for prohibition. Because it 
 is the reason of reasons at the bottom of them 
 all, and because you will need to be armed with it 
 when you go into the battle that you are resolving to 
 begin. I refer to God's word. The Bible is full of 
 prohibition. The commandments are all prohibitory. 
 There is not one of them that regulates, licenses or 
 taxes evil. They all prohibit it in the most positive 
 manner. The Decalogue is the epitome of all law. 
 There is no law but its root-principle is found in the 
 Decalogue. Hence, Legislators and Congressmen 
 should take the Decalogue as their formula. If this 
 were done, a law would soon be framed prohibiting 
 this worst evil of modern ages. God speaks in most 
 definite terms when he says, " Woe unto him that 
 giveth his neighbor drink, that puttest thy bottle to 
 him, and makest him drunken also." 
 
 Now here we see God has pronounced woe, or 
 judgment, against the business of furnishing drink to 
 men. And whom God condemns, men ought to 
 condemn. Again we read, "No drunkard can inher- 
 it the kingdom of God. " Then the vender ruins his 
 victim for eternity as well as for time, and we must 
 condemn the whole business. I am not preaching 
 a sermon, but giving you a fundamental principle 
 of law. As a member of the law-making body
 
 THE WORST FOE. 259 
 
 of your adjoining State, I agree with Blackstone 
 that " statutes that are not in unison with the laws of 
 God, are not laws. " 
 
 But, it is objected, Christ made wine. Yes, the stu- 
 dents of Oxford told John B. Gough that Christ made 
 wine out of water. Gough replied, ' ' That's what I 
 come to tell you, that you may drink all the wine 
 you can find made entirely of water." Paul 
 said, ' ' If meat make my brother to offend, I will eat 
 no meat while the world stands." We have to do 
 many things for the sake of others. "Total abstinence 
 is a moral necessity for some, but it is a glorious chivalry 
 for all." 
 
 But the God of all good has declared that ' ' the 
 way of the transgressor is hard." And the violation 
 of law brings a curse, and a blight. We can 
 not trample the least of God's laws under foot 
 without bringing ourselves into trouble. And yet, 
 the American people allow two hundred thousand 
 men to go into the business of violating God's law in 
 "putting the bottle to their neighbor." They do this 
 for money. This wrong brings all the troubles 
 we have mentioned, and ten thousand more. The 
 people are guilty because they quietly permit it. But 
 much more are we guilty as a nation, in that our 
 national government has gone into partnership in 
 this nefarious business of using up boys and ruining 
 "homes. The government has enacted such laws, 
 that it becomes the principal partner in every whisky 
 distillery in the nation. The government sends its 
 inspector or agent, who carries the keys to the distil- 
 lery, and requires ninety cents as the government's
 
 2(5O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 share of every gallon made. When whisky sells 
 at $1.07 per gallon, the other partners of the 
 distillery only have 1 7 cents a gallon as their share, 
 and have to pay all the expenses. Is it any wonder 
 that our nation is cursed with crime and corruption, 
 when it is in the liquor business to such an extent as 
 as this? But this nefarious partnership does not stop 
 there. The government goes into every little retail 
 shop in the nation and says to the little proprietor, 
 "If you sell liquor, you must give me twenty-five 
 dollars." No matter if the little proprietor has but 
 one keg of beer and one gallon of whisky, he must 
 give the government twenty-five dollars for the privi- 
 lege of using up boys. And in this way the govern- 
 ment manages to get what some call big pay from the 
 liquor dealers. From these two sources, from the manu- 
 facturer and retailer, the government gets about one 
 hundred million dollars a year as its share in the busi- 
 ness. What are the results ? One hundred thousand 
 boys are used up by the gin-mills every year, and a 
 hundred thousand more fall into line, and begin to- 
 keep step with this great march down into hell. 
 
 Now let us try our arithmetic a little. 100,000 boys' 
 into 100,000,000 dollars ; let us see, it goes just 1,000- 
 times. Then the government gets a thousand dollars 
 a head for the boys and men that the gin-murder- 
 mills use up. Is that a good sale or not ? What do 
 you say ? Would a thousand dollars be a good price 
 for your boy that you love ? Shall we count out the 
 ready money, and pass your boy over to the gin-shop 
 to be finished off for the pit of everlasting destruction ? 
 Do you object to this, and hold up your hands in*
 
 THE WORST FOE. 26 1 
 
 horror ? Well, if you do not want your boy sold thus, 
 why should you want mine sold, or my neighbor's. 
 Some want a tax or license imposed, of two or five 
 hundred dollars. Do you mean by that, that for that 
 sum you are willing that the liquor dealer should sell 
 it freely to your son? You say, "No, not my boy." 
 Ah, it's your neighbor's boy, then, that is to be ruined, 
 while you reap the paltry benefit of a few farthings 
 of remitted tax. 
 
 Now, if you are opposed to this plan of the gov- 
 ernment selling boys to the drinkshops at a thousand 
 dollars each, how is it that you can vote for the offi- 
 cers that do this thing ? Officers are the agents of 
 the voters ; and the law says what a man does by his 
 agents he does himself. What he does by his agents, 
 he is personally responsible for. Then if your vote 
 goes for men who do this business, are you not as 
 guilty as they ? If you are a partner in a criminal 
 business, are you not a criminal ? And if you appoint 
 an agent to transact this criminal business for you, 
 are you not equally guilty ? Men are awaking to 
 this astounding fact by thousands ; and many are 
 conscience-smitten because they have unwittingly 
 participated in the sin so long. They are beginning to 
 utter their protest by voice and ballot ; and a storm of 
 wrath is brewing for this business and all its defenders. 
 
 But, the objector tells us, you can never prohibit 
 the drink shops ; they have always been and always 
 will be. He who says this is a traitor to mankind. 
 What ! Do you tell us that a foreign foe can come 
 into this land and murder a hundred thousand a year, 
 and we cannot prevent it ? In this land whose liber-
 
 262 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 ties our fathers bought with blood, shall their chil- 
 dren submit to a worse tyrant than King George ? If 
 the churches alone would unite, and say in the name 
 of God, the drink mills must be shut down, they would 
 soon be destroyed by law, or by lightning, or earth- 
 quake, or by one of the infinite varieties of God's 
 artillery. Who says it cannot be done ? This people 
 can do anything in the line of possibilities. When 
 Sumter was fired upon, and the Southern States 
 rebelled, he was counted a traitor who said the 
 rebellion could not be crushed. So, any man who 
 says this foe cannot be conquered, is a coward, 
 or disloyal to humanity's highest good. Our politi- 
 cians can not be trusted to lead this battle ; for, like 
 Eli's sons, they have corrupted themselves, and taken 
 bribes, and can only lead us to confusion and defeat, 
 as Hophni and Phineas did Israel. We must choose 
 for our leaders those known to be men of clean 
 hands and brave hearts. 
 
 But another objector says, "You cannot abolish 
 the saloons now ; you must wait God's time and ed- 
 ucate public sentiment." Now, as to educating public 
 sentiment, that is ripening very fast. The sickle is 
 being prepared, and the harvest cometh to-morrow. 
 Four hundred thousand members of temperance or- 
 ders, and a thousand speakers and writers are pre- 
 paring the people for battle, and the great Catholic 
 Church is organizing total abstinence bands, and bish- 
 ops and priests are signing the pledge. You might as 
 well begin to pick lint to dress the wounded, for the 
 battle is imminent ; for there is nothing like action to 
 educate sentiment Words are wind ; actions are the
 
 THE WORST FOE. 263 
 
 solid facts that tunnel mountains, and bridge rivers, 
 and sweep away every barrier. When King Heze- 
 kiah came to the throne of Israel, he found the peo- 
 ple full of idolatry, worshipping Baal. Did he spend 
 a lifetime educating public sentiment in favor of pro- 
 hibiting idolatry ? No, he went to work and broke 
 in pieces the image of Baal, destroyed the high 
 places, cut down the groves, and broke in pieces the 
 brazen serpent; and thus, by decided action, he 
 made more sentiment for the true God in one day. 
 than years of mere talk would have done. Nothing 
 educates like action. Withdraw your votes from the 
 bloody men who have propped up this Moloch in 
 our land, and you will teach them more temperance 
 sentiment in the morning paper that chronicles your 
 vote against them, than they have learned in a gen- 
 eration. The day is past for educating sentiment, 
 the battle is too near, this is the time to organize for 
 action. 
 
 And as for the other part of the objection, viz., 
 that we must wait God's time, that is little short 
 of blasphemy. It implies that God does not want 
 you to stop this work of slaughter this year, till a 
 hundred thousand souls go down into hell. Do you 
 suppose God is so well pleased with this drunkard- 
 making business, that He wants it to go on a few 
 years longer ? That is an insult to the beneficent 
 God of Heaven. 
 
 God's time is now. It is always God's time for 
 men to put away evil. It is never too soon to do 
 right. 
 
 Thus the speaker waxed eloquent and raised
 
 264 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 the enthusiasm of his audience to the highest 
 pitch, as with almost matchless skill he answered 
 one objection after another to the cause of pro- 
 hibition, until all, except the most obstinate of 
 his audience, were thoroughly convinced that the 
 speaker was right. Many felt that they had 
 never fully seen the subject in its true light 
 before. When the enthusiasm of the audience 
 had reached the highest point, the speaker 
 began to relate his story, which he had prom- 
 ised to give. 
 
 My story is a sad one, and it pains me to tell it; 
 and I only do so when I think it may be use- 
 ful to some one. I know the sadness that often 
 lies with crushing weight upon the heart of the 
 drinker in his sober moments. I know the moments 
 of despair; and I can sympathize with him. But 
 there is help, and there is refuge. For the sake of 
 the poor wife who watches for you in the darkness, 
 will you not seek that refuge ? Do not do as I did ; 
 till it is too late to plead for the forgiveness of her 
 who trusted her life and happiness in your keeping. 
 Ah, how the remorse eats at my heart ! All that I 
 can do cannot atone for the dark, bad past ; because 
 I cannot lay the trophies of the honorable life I am 
 now living at her feet. She has crossed the dark 
 river, and I am left on this side. I would gladly 
 blot out the past, but I cannot. But this remorse 
 drives me into a keener hatred of the enemy that 
 blasted my life and destroyed my home. Hate it ? 
 hate is too feeble a word. My blood, bones and
 
 THE WORST FOE. 265 
 
 mind body, soul and spirit every atom of my being 
 revolts at its tyranny. I would not cross the thresh- 
 old of a saloon to save my right hand. 
 
 Mine is the old story of struggling with temptation, 
 and supping with sin, until sin claimed me for his 
 prey. 
 
 I cannot remember when I comm enced wine-bib- 
 bing. My parents came to this country, when I was 
 but a child. My father died when I was still quite 
 young, and when I was just reaching manhood, my 
 mother also died. This loss was heavy. Well do I 
 remember, the resolves I made to honor her memory, 
 as I visited her resting place a week after her burial. 
 Little then did I ever suppose that intemperance 
 would cause me to forget my vows. If some one 
 then had said to me, "You will one day lie in the 
 ditch and suffer delirium tremens," I should have 
 laughed him to scorn. I knew that I liked wine and 
 even something stronger; but I did not see the results 
 of such an appetite. I thought, as every drinking 
 man does, that "I can drink or let it alone ;" but be a 
 drunkard, I never shall. 
 
 If the first glass would give a man the delirium tre- 
 mens, alcohol would be left on the shelf to preserve 
 .snakes in. But as it is, our only safety is to annihil- 
 ate it. Better have no pickled snakes, than to man- 
 ufacture a thing so uncontrollable as alcohol in its va- 
 rious forms. 
 
 Not long after my mother's death, I procured a 
 position as book-keeper, with a good salary. I soon 
 Centered young society, and there met the maid who be- 
 came my wife. She was a girl of high moral and Chris-
 
 266 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 tian virtues ; and she was not slow to see that I was 
 in danger of going to excess, and she often rebuked 
 me for my social drinking. I said all young men did 
 the same. But as she plead more earnestly,! laughed 
 at her fears. Drinkers always ridicule such admoni- 
 tion. I assured her, that I would always lead a sober 
 life; but I did not say, "I will never taste, touch nor 
 handle it again." I said, "When I sow a few more 
 wild oats, I will settle down and be a matter-of-fact 
 sort of a man." Ah, that wild oats business has ruined 
 many a man. It is one of Satan's favorite leading- 
 strings. Young man, do not forget that, "as you 
 sow, so shall ye reap." 
 
 In time, this fair Annie Templeton and I were 
 married. When I look back now and think of the 
 years of pure devotion of that true woman, it makes 
 me more determined to be henceforth a true man, 
 and to become worthy of her association in the great 
 future. 
 
 Our home was a happy one, just as happy as a 
 neat, energetic, loving wife could make it. I was 
 always met with a smile. She was the best of com- 
 pany ; she could teach me wisdom every hour in the 
 day. Then why did I not become wise? Did a de- 
 mon possess me ? Yes, the demon of strong drink 
 was just asserting its claim upon me. Even moderate 
 drinking blunts a man's moral perceptions, so that 
 he is not so capable of appreciating moral principles. 
 This point is not understood by drinkers, but has 
 been scientifically proved by medical men. The 
 American Journal of Inebriety has spent eight years 
 in giving proofs of this ; and Dr. T. L. Wright, in
 
 THE WORST FOE. 267* 
 
 his recent work entitled ' Inebriism," proves beyond 
 dispute, that alcohol so affects the brain as to make 
 a man incapable of correct moral action. And I kept 
 my brain so stupified with alcohol that I was incap- 
 able of taking in the beautiful truths my wife tried to 
 teach me. They only flitted before me as visions to 
 be forgotten with the sound, instead of appropriated 
 to become a part of my being. So I soon tired of 
 my home, tired of everything, and felt hampered 
 with the possession of a wife and child. I was one- 
 of the b'hoys, and wanted to spend my spare time 
 with the b'hoys. "The more wild oats I sowed, the 
 more I wanted to sow ; which, I believe, is generally 
 the case. 
 
 Finally the death of my sweet baby girl seemed to- 
 awaken me for a time to a sense of my duty and re- 
 sponsibility. I struggled bravely, but temptations 
 surrounded me, and I was fighting the battle alone. 
 I needed the help of a strong brother, friend, but 
 none came to my relief. Why should they ? I had 
 never sought the acquaintance of any whose friend- 
 ship was worth a straw. When trying to reform I 
 did not tell my dear wife even, that I was making, 
 such an effort. Oh, how she would have tried to- 
 strengthen all my good purposes, and how she would, 
 have implored God's help besides. I did not have 
 the strength to resist the temptation. Every time I 
 passed that saloon which stood between my home 
 and place of business, I felt impelled to go in there. 
 Ah, I was then a groveling slave, but did not know 
 it. When I again yielded to the temptation after my 
 brief reformation, I went the road to ruin at a rapid
 
 268 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 speed. My employers were patient with me, but 
 finally my conduct compelled them to discharge me. 
 I became a miserable sot. In those dark days my 
 wife was the only friend I had. She never forsook 
 me. But I often found her in tears, which irritated 
 me. I loathed myself, and after every cent of my 
 money was spent, one night at gambling I got money 
 enough to take me away from all that I had ever 
 known. For weeks I lodged in a garret in New 
 York City, suffering more than tongue can tell. Dur- 
 ing those weeks the tremens came and went, and I 
 fought the snakes and devils alone. I was thus reap- 
 ing the harvest from my wild oats. Did I not re- 
 pent and long to return to my heart-broken wife, and 
 resolve to do so as soon as I could travel ? Yes, the 
 little good left in my heart suggested it, but Satan 
 was ready with suggestions ; I must not return pen^ 
 niless. And I listened to him that had ruled me so 
 long. I would get a handsome sum and then I 
 would return to her and we would be happy again. 
 I sought work, but I could not keep myself at it. 
 
 Finally I abandoned it all, and became a profes- 
 sional saloon-bird a lounger about places of strong 
 drink, waiting for some one to treat me, and subsist- 
 ing off of free lunches. How detestable I appear 
 when I think of it. I remained in New York over 
 two years, passing through almost every variety of 
 experience. Finally I and one of my associates 
 started out. We did not know where we should 
 go. We went here and there till we had traveled 
 toward all points of the compass. One December 
 found us in a village in the State of Ohio. We
 
 THE WORST FOE. 269. 
 
 had not been there long till we heard of the 
 Woman's Crusade movement. How we ridiculed 
 it. One evening a crowd was in the saloor. 
 We had been playing cards, telling stories, and sing- 
 ing songs between drinks, when one proposed a 
 change, and dropping on his knees began imitating 
 the women in front of the saloons, uttering a mock 
 prayer. All but myself cheered him. I thought that: 
 was going too far. At that moment a choir began 
 singing right in front of the door, " Rescue the Per- 
 ishing." I arose and buttoned my coat to go out. 
 When the saloon-keeper saw we were about to leave, 
 he said, " Boys, don't go out. We can stand it if 
 they can." But saying I was fond of music, I walked 
 out, and the others followed me. The song strangely 
 thrilled me. A prayer was soon offered, then a short 
 appeal made, and every word went right to my heart. 
 Did they know anything about me, I wondered. 
 They seemed to speak as though they understood my 
 situation. A general invitation was announced, 
 kindly inviting us to a lecture at the hall. I was 
 leaning against a lamp-post, but my hat was pulled 
 down, and all my past life was coming up before me. 
 There was one alto voice near me that called all the 
 past forcibly to mind. It seemed so like my dear 
 Annie's voice. That singer stepped around so I could 
 see her face, and it looked like Annie's. She came 
 near and laid her hand upon my arm. and said, "Sure- 
 ly the way of the transgressor is hard ; for your own 
 happiness reverse your life. " She was gone almost 
 before her words were finished. The whole choir 
 was gone. They had left quietly as they came. We
 
 2/O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 all followed. We heard the lecture and all signed 
 the pledge that night. So far as I know, I am the 
 only one that has not broken it. And heaven only 
 knows what a struggle it has cost me to keep it. 
 
 As soon as victorious in the first struggle, I sought 
 my wife and home. I found neither. It is too pain- 
 ful to dwell upon. I traced her until she had started 
 in search of me, then I lost trace of her entirely. My 
 poor wife, with our infant son, had tried to find me 
 in my wanderings. I advertised in vain. What suf- 
 fering she may have endured in her efforts to find 
 me, I never knew. Death may have come to 
 her relief. When means and health failed, and 
 I could search no longer, I settled down almost 
 mad with remorse ; but while I despised myself, and 
 shall carry this remorse to the grave, yet I was most 
 thoroughly mad at alcohol and the whole liquor traf- 
 fic ; and as soon as I was able to work, I applied 
 myself with double dilligence, and prayed for that 
 help the women had taught me to trust in ; and God 
 not only blessed me with strength to stand, but blessed 
 my labor, blessed me in business, and has opened 
 avenues before me for doing good of which I never 
 knew before. But as I began securing signers for the 
 temperance pledge, and in various ways working for 
 the temperance cause, I soon found that little could 
 be done to save men while the dramshops were so 
 plentiful. If I got ten men in one week to sign the 
 pledge, before another week would pass,nine of them 
 would return to their cups. I began advocating, in 
 all the temperance meetings, that stringent laws should 
 be enforced. So we got a high license law, with a
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2/1 
 
 variety of sections in it for regulating the sale of 
 liquor. But the high licensed liquor made my pledg- 
 ed men just as drunk as the unlicensed liquor did, 
 and they obtained the drinks just as easily as before, 
 although the law said that liquor should not be sold 
 to persons in the habit of getting drunk. The law 
 also made it unlawful to sell to boys under twenty-one 
 years of age, but saloon-keepers disregarded the law, 
 and went on using up boys as before. They even 
 had better success than before, for drink was now sold 
 only by men with sufficient capital to keep finer 
 places, and they bated their hooks for boys more suc- 
 cessfully than before. The temperance people could 
 not stay in the saloons to see if the law was being 
 violated, and the saloon-keepers violated every 
 clause of it every day. I doubt whether there 
 is a saloon in the United States that does not 
 sell to boys and drunkards all the time, unless while 
 they are watched. I studied the laws we had and 
 the reason they were failures, and I came to the con- 
 clusion in a few years, that when a man is mean 
 enough to sell liquor, the only law that will keep him 
 from selling it contrary to law, is a law that will lock 
 up his doors and pour his liquors into the street, as 
 they do down in Maine. Any law that leaves the 
 saloon-keeper with his shop open, and him behind the 
 counter, leaves him in a position to violate all regula- 
 tions. Suppose your law says he shall not sell to 
 drunkards and minors ; he will sell to them continu- 
 ally. Suppose the law says only wine, beer and ale 
 shall be sold. He will pour out whatever the custo- 
 mer likes, in spite of law and temperance sentiment
 
 2/2 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 to the contrary. And his customers, says Judge 
 Dickey, will perjure themselves rather than convict 
 him. Hence the only law that can be well executed 
 is a prohibitory law. When I first made that asser- 
 tion, I astonished people. But I convinced the tem- 
 perance people of it so rapidly that I was soon sent 
 to the legislature, and, if God spares my life, I expect 
 to continue the agitation till we shall carry a law as 
 strong as that of Maine. The law that says no intox- 
 icating drinks shall be sold, is a very simple affair in 
 the matter of execution. If the officer finds a man 
 with liquor, he simply takes him to the lock-up, and 
 takes his liquor to the court for testimony. And that 
 settles his guilt at once. But all regulatory laws are 
 next to impossible to enforce. The next time any one 
 says to you that ' ' You could not enforce a prohibi- 
 tory law if you had it," tell him it is the only tem- 
 perance law that can be enforced successfully. You 
 cannot easily prove what a liquor dealer sells to a 
 certain customer, nor can you watch him to see that 
 he only sells to proper persons. But prohibition re- 
 moves that difficulty. 
 
 Now my story is told and my lecture is done. If 
 I could be the means of closing these man-traps that 
 have made my life so sad, so they should never blast 
 another home as they have mine, I should feel that 
 I had partly atoned for the sad past. Will you help 
 me in this effort ? Was Florence Nightingale a bene- 
 factor because she bound up the wounds of the fal- 
 len ? How much more will he be a benefactor who 
 prevents wounds being made. Will you be that ben- 
 efactor, by helping to shut down these flood-gates of
 
 THE WORST FOE. 273 
 
 destruction ? If you stand by and see your neighbor 
 murdered when you can prevent it, the law makes 
 you guilty of his blood. Now, the sober people can 
 stop this work of ruin. Will you do it ? If you do 
 not make the effort by your ballot, by your influ- 
 ence, by your money, by your prayers, who will 
 plead your cause in the day of judgment, when the 
 broken-hearted widows rise up and say, you did not 
 save my husband when it was in your power ? Who 
 will plead for you then ? What will hinder the sen- 
 tence, "In as much as ye did it not unto these * * 
 ye did it not to me " ? I roll the responsibility of 
 the blood of the slain upon you if you do not do 
 what you can. May God bless you. Good night. 
 
 (18)
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 f 
 
 HERE AND THERE. 
 
 To know not earth nor Heaven, 
 
 Nor any crimson star, 
 
 Can measure losses such 
 
 As ours unmeasured are. 
 
 To know we would not quench 
 
 With any paler wine, 
 
 The everlasting thirst 
 
 That must be thine and mine. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 LL through that lecture Pauline sat motion- 
 less as if entranced. The song which con- 
 cluded the exercises of the evening failed to en- 
 tirely rouse her from her reverie. She heard 
 some one announce that Mr. Strasmore would 
 lecture on the following evening. From the 
 time he concluded until this announcement was 
 made, she had been sitting like one in a dream. 
 She started at the announcement and her 
 heart beat violently. She would see him, would 
 tell him of that son of whom he knew nothing. 
 She would tell him of his wife and give him the 
 time stained letter traced by her hands. Her 
 thoughts were away back in the beautiful past 
 and she was only awakened to present realities 
 
 274
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2/5 
 
 by Mr. Strasmore being presented to her. She 
 arose and bowed mechanically and stood in a 
 somewhat embarrassing position, while he spoke 
 a few words of encouragement to herself and the 
 President of the Woman's Christian Temperance 
 Union, and was gone. 
 
 Mark Day .accompanied Pauline to her home, 
 and as they separated, she said: "Mark, come 
 early to-morrow, for I want you to do me a 
 favor." Mark said he would, and as he went to 
 his home he said : 
 
 "Now, she's got something to tell that Stras- 
 more. Lawyer Strasmore was a gentleman and 
 so was this strange father of his till he took 
 to drink. How I pitied him when he told his 
 story. It's not often a strong man shows such 
 emotions. His story is only one more proof 
 that the way of the transgressor is hard. It is a 
 lesson to everybody and though but little that's 
 good can ever be expected of such a wild harum 
 scarum chap like me, I am determined that 
 never under any circumstances shall a drop of 
 liquor cross my lips. Wasn't Pauline's essay a 
 scorcher ? I wish the papers would all print it. 
 She is not afraid to call the saloon-keepers by 
 their right name. Oh ! I glory in her spunk. If 
 it hadn't a been for Miss Denesmore, I would 
 have been a ruined drunkard by this time. A 
 woman saved me and a woman first tempted 
 Guy. It's strange ; one woman overthrew all
 
 2/6 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 parents' teachings, and the true principles of a 
 man's life, and changed his whole existence. 
 Thank goodness, there is not another Maria in 
 Staunton. Such women are scarce. If Guy had 
 not been so fast, he never would have taken that 
 fatal step. He didn't dream he was entering 
 such a hornet's nest ; or that he would drag his 
 family down to ruin with him. But he is lost 
 poor fellow. I don't think the good women can 
 save him as they did Strasmore. I have very 
 little sympathy for Maria, but her child is inno- 
 cent and I'm sorry for it. The Lord only knows 
 what will become of all of them. They are in 
 Ernest's power, and he will prove a tyrant." 
 
 When Pauline reached home, she found her 
 mother waiting for her. She had been with Guy 
 all the evening and reported a favorable change 
 in his condition. He was rational, and had 
 talked with the same freedom he used to show 
 years ago, telling his mother of his temptations 
 and trials, and making firm resolves to do better. 
 The poor boy seemed to get relief in unburden- 
 ing his heart to his mother. She had at last 
 persuaded him to go to sleep ; and when slumber 
 closed his eyes she sat for a long time at his 
 side as she had done in his infancy, longing to 
 take him in her arms and shield him from the 
 many cares, woes and temptations by which he 
 was surrounded. 
 
 Pauline told her mother what she had learned
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2/7 
 
 during the evening ; and they sat until a late hour 
 talking of the dead, whose life had been so full of 
 promise, and of the last living one whose life had 
 been equally as full of promise. 
 
 Next morning Mark called at Mrs. Denesmore's 
 as requested, and Pauline gave him a note for Mr. 
 Strasmore, saying: "If he is at leisure, he can 
 accompany you on your way home, this far, " 
 
 Mark bowed and hurried away on his errand. 
 In their adversity the Denesmores were unable to 
 keep servants, save one or two faithful domestics 
 who clung to them at the risk of starvation ; and 
 Mark had performed many little acts of kindness 
 for Miss Pauline. 
 
 Mr. Strasmore was in the reading room of his 
 hotel, when Mark found him, glancing over the 
 morning paper. Mark handed him the note 
 f rom Pauline, which was simply an invitation to 
 call at his earliest convenience, as she had inform- 
 ation of importance for him. 
 
 "If you are ready to go now, I will show you 
 the way," said Mark. "It is not far and we can 
 walk very well." Mr. Strasmore, considerably 
 puzzled, announced his readiness to accompany 
 the boy. Pauline could understand something 
 of his anxiety, and entered into the subject as 
 soon as they were seated in her plain, but neat 
 sitting room. 
 
 "Have you any proof that your wife and child 
 are dead ? " she asked.
 
 2/8 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "Only that I failed to find them," he answer- 
 ed, while his excitement became more and more 
 apparent. "When I lay prostrated from an ill- 
 ness produced by dissipation, a friend who aided 
 me all he could, learned that a woman and child 
 had arrived on a night train at the town and put 
 up at a hotel. She was suddenly taken ill and 
 conveyed to a charity hospital, where she died 
 without revealing her name or regaining her 
 reason. She had not even registered at the 
 hotel, and was, of course, unknown. The child 
 died soon after the mother ; and nothing was 
 known of them except that they were very desti- 
 tute. It was not my wife, I know now ; can 
 you tell me anything of her and our child ? " 
 
 There was such an expression of eagerness in 
 his face that Pauline felt herself unable to tell 
 the sad story ; so she placed in his hand the old 
 time-stained letter William had given her, which 
 made the identity indisputable. The color left 
 his face as he read. He frequently paused to 
 brush away the blinding tears, while he trembled 
 with uncontrollable emotion. When he had resd 
 the letter through, he laid it aside, and in a voice 
 husky with emotion asked : 
 
 "How came you by this ? Is my son alive ?" 
 
 "Your son gave me that letter on the day I 
 promised to be his wife. But he has been dead 
 for years. He was a grand, noble man, a son of
 
 THE WORST FOE. 279 
 
 whom any one might be proud, but he fell by 
 the hand of an unknown assassin from an. un- 
 known cause." 
 
 "My son cared for by strangers grew to be a 
 man, while I spent my time in dissipation Just 
 Heaven, what a retribution, " groaned the agoniz- 
 ed father, burying his face in his hands. 
 
 Pauline tried to offer comfort, but she knew 
 how vain her efforts were. The only consola- 
 tion there was to the unfortunate father, was 
 in hearing her talk of that son of whom he had 
 known nothing. As soon as his engagements 
 in Staunton would permit, he went to the home 
 of Mr. Johns, the man who knew more of his 
 boy than any other man. He listened as if he 
 would never tire of hearing these good people 
 talk of his child. While in the neighborhood 
 he made many a pilgrimage to the graveyard 
 where his wife and child whom he had so great- 
 ly wronged, slept. King alcohol had wrought all 
 this ruin, and there by the graves of those 
 whom he dearly loved, but had wronged past 
 all hope of human redemption, he vowed eternal 
 enmity to rum. Henceforth he would conse- 
 crate his life to combating The Worst Foe. All 
 the reward he asked of earthly friends, was that 
 when his pilgrimage was over, he might be 
 laid away to rest by the side of his wife and 
 child. 
 
 Leaving the spot which now had grown sacred
 
 28O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 to him, he paused as he entered the woods to 
 look back upon it, upon the beautiful monument 
 Pauline had erected to the memory of William, 
 and said : 
 
 ' 'Everything has been done for my loved ones 
 by other hands than mine. Not a single work of 
 my affection can anywhere be found, even on 
 their graves. But I can go forth into the world 
 as a missionary and help to redeem other fathers. 
 Oh, if I could only save enough drunkards from 
 ruin it might atone for the past ! My story shall 
 be told ; and, perhaps, the history of my own 
 sad life may have the effect of bringing others 
 back from ruin." Reader, know you a truly re- 
 formed drunkard who is not a worker in the tem- 
 perance cause ? I do not. They may not be 
 lecturers or writers, but in some way, within their 
 sphere, you will find them zealously working for 
 the cause of temperance, if it is no more than to 
 give a word of warning to the unwary. King 
 Alcohol is such a slave driver that men once in 
 his bondage are seldom free. The reformed 
 drunkard is never safe.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 ONE MORE ANGEL IN HEAVEN. 
 
 "Cease fond nature, cease thy strife 
 And let me languish into life." 
 
 Pope. 
 
 TTTWO years more have rolled by, but affairs 
 1 in the Denesmore family have grown no 
 better. In fact, they have gradually grown 
 worse. They no longer live in their elegant 
 home which had been theirs for so many years ; 
 but in a little cottage, purchased and plainly 
 furnished with what Mrs. Denesmore and Pauline 
 v/ere enabled to save from the wreck. Henry 
 and Mandy, two old faithful servants, remained 
 with them, declaring that they would, under no 
 circumstances, leave them in their distress. The 
 new home was made as attractive and as pleas- 
 ant as it could well be under the circumstances. 
 Pauline taught a large class in music. All the 
 pupils that she could accommodate were soon 
 selected from among the friends whom she had 
 known in her days of prosperity. Mrs. Denes- 
 more and her daughter could have been happy 
 even in their humble circumstances, had it not 
 
 281
 
 282 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 been that Guy still continued his downward 
 course. Both Mr. and Mrs. Day had passed 
 away, leaving an insolvent estate. Ernest had 
 managed to secure a considerable bulk of his 
 father's property, and he had by the most un- 
 scrupulous means imaginable, greatly added to 
 that until he was wealthy. Mark was energetic 
 and had added something to the small amount 
 his father had given him. He had commenced 
 life as a master machinist and displayed no little 
 ability. Maria who had intended to have a 
 home with her parents was greatly disappointed 
 to find herself left penniless and utterly depen- 
 dent on the exertions of her husband's rela- 
 tions, whom she cordially hated. She asked her 
 brother to let her remain at the old Denesmore 
 house as his housekeeper, but he smiled and 
 tauntingly answered that he could not under any 
 circumstances live in that old haunted house. 
 ' 'I would expect to have ghosts for my constant 
 companions." 
 
 "What do you mean by saying it is haunt- 
 ed?" Maria asked. 
 
 "It is a house haunted with castles. There 
 were a great many castles built in that old place, 
 but all proved to be air-castles, and to one 
 acquainted with the circumstances as I am, it 
 would be disagreeable. Wherever I would turn, 
 I would see Strasmore, Pauline, you and your 
 Guy as you were, and then see you all as you
 
 THE WORST FOE, 283 
 
 are, and the walls would re-echo with the groans 
 of broken hearts." Then as if to break off or 
 change the conversation, he said: "I don't 
 think that old lady Denesmore will last long ; 
 she is failing fast. I don't like to look at the 
 old saint. Why don't her God come and save 
 her ?" 
 
 "Hush," interrupted Maria, with a start and 
 a shudder, "you ought to be ashamed of your- 
 self to talk so. I don't believe in their God any 
 more than you, but I have learned of them that 
 their perfect faith is a wonderful comforter. I 
 have seen the old lady's face radiant with hap- 
 piness, even in her greatest trouble, while 
 reading her Bible. If Christians are right, they 
 are saved and we are lost ; if they are wrong, no 
 one is harmed and they are made happy amid 
 all their troubles. If we were not so poor and if 
 Guy , " she broke down and sobbed. 
 
 "You would be a Christian ?" said Ernest, 
 with a sneering laugh. "Well, I suppose Guy 
 is the ghost of the Christian he once was . " 
 
 "You are cruel, Ernest," Maria sobbed with 
 her hands over her face. Without noticing his 
 sister's sufferings, he continued : 
 
 "Whether Christianity is a reality or a myth, 
 it is powerless to save one from a financial tumble. 
 Pauline was rich, beautiful, proud and powerful 
 in society seven or eight years ago. Where is 
 she now ? and she has not near reached the bot- 
 tom yet."
 
 284 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 While the above conversation was going on 
 between the brother and sister, Pauline and the 
 faithful Mandy, grown tired of their labors in re- 
 pairing the new home, were sitting down for a 
 few moments' rest. The old servant was very 
 thoughtful for a moment, and then looking 
 Pauline in the face, said : 
 
 "Your mother is failing fast?" 
 
 "Yes, mother is breaking down under the 
 terrible burden of years and her great afflic- 
 tions." 
 
 Then a long silence fell on them and after a 
 struggle Mandy said : 
 
 "I don't know, Miss Pauline, but I sometimes 
 think it's best in all these matters to be a little 
 sorter prepared, you know. Life's always on- 
 certain, very oncertain with us all. May be I 
 don't see right, for where there's life, there's 
 hope ; but if she does die everybody knows 
 there'll be one more angel in Heaven. We 
 can't always tell when folks die whether they go- 
 to Heaven or not, but your mother, everybody 
 knows, is all right when her time comes." 
 
 From that time Pauline's anxiety concerning 
 her mother grew greater. That mother slowly 
 wasted away without any perceptible cause, un- 
 til before they had been a year in their new 
 home, she was confined to her room and then to 
 her bed. Her case puzzled the most skilled 
 physicians, and despite their efforts she continu-
 
 THE WORST FOE. 285 
 
 ed to sink lower. Pauline realized from the first 
 that her mother had taken her bed for the last 
 time. Mrs. Denesmore had often talked of the 
 coming dissolution and begged her -daughter to 
 be reconciled to the inevitable. Though Paul- 
 ine often wept in secret she made a great effort 
 to be cheerful in the presence of her mother. 
 The day was just dawning when Pauline, sitting 
 in an adjoining room, heard her mother's voice 
 faintly, yet earnestly breathing a prayer. At the 
 same moment she heard a light foot-step and 
 Guy entered her apartment, his face disfigured 
 with dissipation, but very pale. They both lis- 
 tened and heard their mother's weak, yet clear 
 voice appealing to the throne of grace. 
 
 "Dear Father, if it be Thy will, let me enter 
 into that blessed existence which is eternal. 
 Thou alone knowest how weary I have grown 
 of this mortal strife, and how I long to enter 
 that world where no sorrow is ever known, and 
 yet, oh, God ! teach me to say from the depths 
 of my soul, not my will but Thine be done. 
 When I see how unworthy I am of thy love and 
 care, I feel constrained to thank Thee that it is 
 so well with me as it is. I thank Thee for my 
 children, and now, Father, that I am soon to 
 leave them, wilt Thou ever be with and comfort 
 them. Thou knowest how hard it will be to 
 Pauline, bereft of a mother on whose love and 
 care she has always depended, but oh, Father,
 
 286 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 comfort her and may the sunlight of her faith 
 never fade from her life. Father, save my boy, 
 my poor unfortunate Guy. Thou alone know- 
 est how much he has suffered. He has sinned ; 
 he has been lead away from the right, but Thou 
 who knowest how weak the tempted, and how 
 strong the tempter, can forgive. Oh, do forgive, 
 do save !" 
 
 Guy could hear no more, but dashed into the 
 room, fell on his knees and sobbed : 
 
 ' 'Oh ! mother, dear mother, I have embitter- 
 ed your life. I have brought your gray hairs 
 in sorrow to the grave. Can you not be spared 
 a little longer to witness my own redemption. I 
 have been a slave in the power of the most cruel 
 despot that ever reigned over man, and I have 
 struggled in vain against it. I'll not justify my 
 self in this, but if I had married in a different 
 family . No, I won't say it, mother. Even 
 though a creature of circumstances, I am guilty. " 
 
 After a moment's silence, the mother feebly 
 said: 
 
 "I know all about your temptations. The 
 past cannot be changed, but there is some chance 
 to redeem the future. Ask God's help and con- 
 stantly keep the image of your children before 
 you. When you gaze upon your baby, think 
 that its deformity is a rebuke to your sin. Try 
 from this on to make the name you give your 
 children an honor to them. Your sister will
 
 THE WORST FOE. 287 
 
 need your care, Guy ; do not add to her burdens. 
 You know how patient she has been ; try and 
 bind up her broken heart, by living an honor- 
 able, upright life and avoiding your besetting sin. 
 Stand firm to the right. Remember our parting 
 is short, our meeting forever." 
 
 She had gradually grown weaker and weaker 
 until her voice died away in a whisper. Both, 
 Pauline and Guy knew that the end was near. 
 At intervals during the day she slept, but all 
 day long her breathing grew shorter and shorter, 
 until just before the sun sank to rest behind the 
 western hills, her soul winged its eternal flight to 
 the abode of the blessed. 
 
 A large funeral train followed the body of 
 Mary Denesmore to the cemetery. Guy felt that 
 all eyes were on him, and that he was guilty of 
 murdering his mother. As the coffin was lower- 
 ed from his sight, groans of agony involuntarily 
 burst from his heart. Many a pitying eye was- 
 hed on the wretched man ; and while returning 
 from the grave, a little group freely discussed 
 Guy's wasted- life and blighted promises 
 
 "He is to blame for his mother's death and 
 the ruin of his family," said one. 
 
 "No, not altogether to blame," answered an 
 old man, who was one of the group. "We are 
 all to blame. Rum is to blame. Had there 
 been no intoxicating liquors Guy Denesmore 
 would have been a sober, honorable man, but we-
 
 288 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 have permitted The Wotst Foe of mankind to 
 flourish among us, and this is but one of the 
 results ; there are millions more. "
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 "WHAT HOLDS ME?" 
 
 "Thy Maker's will has placed thee here, 
 A maker wise and good." 
 
 [OWED with grief and remorse, Guy went 
 home from his mother's funeral, fully resolv- 
 ing to lead a different life. Alas, how often do 
 we plan our own reformation, and yet allow 
 ourselves to be seized by the tempter and drag- 
 ged down to ruin and death. Poor Guy, he 
 knew not how weak he was, nor did he dream 
 of the strength of the tempter. 
 
 Pauline felt that nearly all the brightness had 
 gone out from this earthly existence. The grief 
 and remorse of her brother almost made her for- 
 get her own anguish. When Guy, with heart 
 burdened to overflowing, sank down upon a sofa 
 at her side and wailed : ' 'Oh, why was I ever 
 born?" she felt that she must try to alleviate 
 his sufferings. 
 
 "Don't talk so, Guy," she answered. "Don't 
 despair, it is not too late yet for you to win an 
 honorable name. You have erred, and never 
 
 (19) 289
 
 2pO THE WORST FOE. 
 
 have you realized it more than now, still you 
 are on the saving side of eternity. Make a sol- 
 lemn pledge in the sight of Heaven never to 
 touch, taste, or handle again, intoxicating liquors. 
 I will help you, your friends will help you, and 
 God will help you. You will find the same evil 
 influences to contend with, which have dragged 
 you down, the temptation will be before your 
 eyes, and the struggle will be hard and long, but 
 the harder the battle, the greater the victory. I 
 am appalled when I think of the magnitude of 
 this still growing evil ; when I remember you as 
 you were and think of you as you are when I 
 I think what we might have been had it not been 
 for this evil, I feel almost inclined to swear eter- 
 nal enmity to rum. I am powerless to save you, 
 brother ; you alone can make your life what it 
 should be. Brother," Pauline's voice was very 
 faint and trembling, ' 'now is the time to embark 
 on the voyage of safety." 
 
 A long silence followed. The baby awoke 
 and began to cry. Pauline took the little crea- 
 ture from its cradle and held it in her arms to 
 try to quiet it. Guy watched them both. The 
 poor afflicted baby had never been named. The 
 child seemed a living rebuke to its father's sin 
 and mother's folly. Every time Guy looked at 
 the withered wrinkled features, or watched those 
 spasmodic twitchings of the face and writhing of 
 the whole body, like one in a fit of delirium tre-
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2pl 
 
 mens, he keenly felt this rebuke. But Maria 
 was too selfish to ever find any fault in her own 
 acts. She was sure she had not been the cause 
 of Guy's turning out as he had. She did not 
 want him to be a drunkard, and she had scolded 
 and fretted and cried herself into hysterics, be- 
 cause he would drink. One day Mark had said 
 to her: 
 
 "This is what you get for urging Guy to take 
 his first glass." She quickly answered in a high 
 state of ill-humor that it could be no harm for 
 him to sip a little wine just out of politeness to 
 their guests. She had no idea it would ever 
 make a drunkard of him. 
 
 "But it was his young wife who first held the 
 tempting cup to the lips of her husband," said 
 Mark, impatiently. "You deserve it." 
 
 "Hush, shut your mouth ! " screamed Maria. 
 Pauline, laying her hand on Mark's shoulder, 
 said: 
 
 "Don't, Mark; don't cast reflections. It is 
 hard enough for Maria to bear now. She little 
 dreamed what the end would be, or she never 
 would have offered that first glass. " 
 
 "No ! she didn't know how it would end ; but 
 now she can see what the end is liable to be. 
 But she keeps wine and stimulants on hand to 
 keep up her strength. Bosh ! Guy needs liquor 
 just as much as she does," and Mark left the 
 room.
 
 292 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 But to return to the present, Guy watched 
 Pauline and the baby for some moments, when 
 his own little Pauline came into the room and 
 going to her father's side, she fixed her eyes af- 
 fectionately on his face. Guy, with little Paul- 
 ine on one knee, took the afflicted baby from the 
 arms of his sister, and kissing its wrinkled fore- 
 head, said: 
 
 "Pauline, I have struggled hard to throw off 
 this slavery ; Heaven only knows how much I 
 have suffered or what a slave I have been. If 
 there is any good left in me yet, by the help of 
 Heaven and all the will power I possess, I will 
 never never fall again." 
 
 The pledge was given with so much firmness 
 and earnestness that the wife and sister were full 
 of hope that he would keep it. Pauline felt that 
 a ray of happiness might yet be in store for her. 
 
 Childhood soon forgets sorrow, and little Paul- 
 ine who had been shocked at the awful solemnity 
 of death now went to a corner and began build- 
 ing a house with her blocks. Maria watched her 
 with a hope almost akin to joy ; and Guy listen- 
 ed to her innocent prattle with a dread fear of 
 evil. He knew what he had before him. Would 
 he be able to conquer The Worst Foe, or would 
 he again fall into the snare of the tempter ? 
 
 "No! I will never never fall again," he 
 mentally declared. Pauline, watching the west- 
 ern horizon whose ruddy glow indicated the re-
 
 THE WORST FOE. 293 
 
 treat of the sun, predicted a brighter future for 
 all. That day of mourning ended in one of 
 thanksgiving and prayer for help to keep sacred 
 resolutions. 
 
 It is easy to fall, but difficult to regain the 
 position once held. The lower the fall, the more 
 difficult to regain the former footing ; yet Pauline 
 had hope. Guy needed encouragement, and she 
 made his cause her own. In the months which 
 followed, she received her reward in the knowledge 
 that her brother was leading a life of sobriety. 
 He seemed to have returned to what his early 
 life had promised to be ; and with the greatest 
 hope, Pauline prayed that the prospects might 
 not be blighted. None knew of Pauline's trials, 
 save her young friend, Mark. Who was better 
 acquainted with Mark than herself? He also 
 knew that but little dependence could be put on 
 Maria, for all who could not be made instrumen- 
 tal in the accomplishment of her own ends, were 
 discarded as worthless. 
 
 Pauline had fixed principles of right and 
 wrong, which no power or circumstance could 
 change; and, although desirous of peace, she 
 would not swerve from the path of duty. Every 
 roughness jarred on her sensitive nature ; but all 
 this was nothing compared to her brother's loss. 
 Now that he was slowly retracing his steps, she 
 turned a deaf ear to her own perplexities, thank- 
 ing God that it was as well as it was.
 
 294 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 One evening Mark happened in, when Maria, 
 to use his own expression, "was on a tare." She 
 never tried to control her temper on account of 
 his presence, but went on, upbraiding Pauline 
 and calling her a prudish old maid whom every 
 body disliked. Having given vent to her feel- 
 ings in a final burst of temper, Maria left the 
 room, and Mark, looking after her with a sigh of 
 relief, said: 
 
 "I am glad the hurricane is past. I have been 
 trying to think of a storm proof shelter for you, 
 Miss Denesmore." 
 
 "It is well you did not speak, Mark. Such 
 things only make matters worse. I have not al- 
 ways been silent, though every time I have spoken 
 back, I have degraded myself. " 
 
 "What makes you put up with it, Miss Denes- 
 more ?" asked Mark. "Why don't you find an- 
 other home ? You might have choice of homes 
 among your pupils. As long as your mother 
 lived I could understand why you bore so much, 
 but now I can't see what holds you." 
 
 "Mark, if I should go away and Guy should 
 again fall, I would feel that I was to blame. I 
 have faith in him, but I know he is fighting a 
 terribly fierce and cunning foe, and he needs my 
 help to combat this evil. Whenever he returns 
 to this place he calls home, he needs me, the 
 baby needs me and my duty is very plain that 
 is what holds me.'
 
 THE WORST FOE. 2p5 
 
 "And your life will be sacrificed. In every 
 reformation there have been martyrs. William 
 Strasmore was a martyr to his sense of right, I 
 shall always believe ; and you will waste your 
 life and talent here for the interest of one, at 
 least, who is too selfish to appreciate your kind- 
 ness." 
 
 Pauline was unmoved from her purpose. Her 
 duty was plain and she was sure her life's efforts 
 would not be without avail. When she had dis- 
 missed Mark and returned to her own room, 
 there was an indefinable longing in her breast for 
 her own peculiar idols enshrined in her heart. 
 Despite all her determined resolutions she could 
 not but ask herself: 
 
 "Am I to always live this way ? Are my days 
 to be passed without the world being any better 
 for my having lived in it?" 
 
 The sound of her brother's voice who had re- 
 turned drowned all longings, and she was soon 
 with him talking encouragingly of the present 
 and hopefully of the future. When she retired 
 to rest, she thought : 
 
 "If I can but redeem Guy, will it not be a 
 glorious work, and will I not feel that my life has 
 not been lived in vain." 
 
 But little time was left poor Pauline for long- 
 ings and regrets. Overwhelming disaster seem- 
 ed to engulf her, and she was all alive to the 
 woes by which she was surrounded. Had
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 296 
 
 h not been for the shortness of those dark days, 
 she would have sunk into the whirlpool, and 
 been engulfed forever from mortal vision.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE FINAL WRECK. 
 
 "Now conscience wakes despair 
 That slumbered, wakes the bitter memory 
 Of what he was, what is, and what must b 
 Worse: * * * 
 
 Milton. 
 
 TTFHE snow had covered the grave of Mrs. 
 -*- Denesmore the grass had grown green; 
 the flowers had blossomed and completed their 
 mission ; Jack Frost had lightly touched them, 
 and now they hung their drooping heads as if 
 awaiting the parting benediction of the season. 
 The beauty of nature seemed to have grown 
 more refined. Autumn had lent her golden 
 tints and voluptuous maturity to the charms of 
 spring and summer. Nature had done her part 
 well, not only to preserve the beauty, but the 
 health of those who had much abused her. She 
 had dealt justly with Guy Denesmore. The mis- 
 spent years of his life she could not restore ; 
 nor his strength or physical vigor, as it was 
 before those golden moments, studded with dia- 
 mond stars, were buried in the wine cup. But 
 
 2T
 
 2$8 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 when Guy had said, "I will once more be a man, " 
 and called on all the good left in him to assist 
 him in the struggle with his appetite that he 
 might overcome the temptations which beset 
 him, she rallied all her remaining forces and 
 brought them to the grand change. Victory 
 seemed assured. 
 
 Physical nature is the most affectionate moth- 
 er, the most loving and obedient of all God's 
 servants. She toils as faithfully with man to- 
 day as she did with Adam. Guy soon grew to 
 enjoy sleep at the regular hours for slumber, and 
 awoke refreshed with newly-added energies each 
 morning. He did not reflect that nature kissed 
 his eyelids down and, while he slumbered, was 
 busily at work binding up the broken tissues, 
 and clearing away the work of decay accumulat- 
 ed by alcohol. He was wide awake to the con- 
 sciousness that he was warring with the enemies 
 that environed him. His name was frequently 
 offered at the throne of grace, but he had long 
 since ceased to be a supplicant there. He con- 
 stantly asked himself: 
 
 "Is there a God who answers prayer?" 
 He could not believe it, else why had he fallen? 
 Scarcely dared he to breathe his secret thoughts. 
 His early training and the inclination of his young 
 heart had been religious, and he was not yet so 
 bold as to discard the faith of his forefathers. He 
 dared not scoff at Christianity, for once it had
 
 THE WORST FOE. 299* 
 
 brought him happiness, and he still held in sac- 
 red respect those who adhered to the belief, even 
 though in his own heart doubt had taken the- 
 place of faith, At first he felt the guilt of sin, that 
 he was responsible. He tried to get away from 
 the Lord, and set up many excuses for his own 
 conduct. Then when Satan came and whisper- 
 ed in his ears that "God does not take care of 
 his own," he began to doubt. Faith, though 
 dethroned, lingered near, knowing that if she en- 
 tirely left him, his ruin was inevitable. While 
 God's attributes Faith, Hope and Charity still 
 hovered about the despairing soul, Satan con- 
 tinued to whisper*. 
 
 "God cares not for his children." Alcohol 
 had stupefied his brain and so weakened his re- 
 solutions that he had not power to say : 
 
 "Get thee behind me, Satan, God has placed 
 me here a free moral agent, and I will dethrone 
 my tyrant. I will go on the Lord's side and 
 combat the devil in every form." But instead he 
 seized on the skeptic's fatal chord and declared, 
 "I will believe that only of which I have visible 
 proof." 
 
 This infidelity had come into the mind of Dr. 
 Denesmore, not as the result of his own seek- 
 ing, but like a miasma comes into the system 
 when the air one breathes is freighted with it. 
 It came into his mind imperceptibly. He sought 
 scientific and medical knowledge, but did not
 
 3OO THE WORST FOE. 
 
 seek this mental disease. People rarely seek 
 disease. They locate where the air is pregnant 
 with it, and then breath it in, seldom knowing 
 liow or when. So Dr. Denesmore had located 
 in the Day family, where the mental and moral 
 atmosphere were poisoned with the most subtile 
 infidelity, that had imperceptibly become a part 
 of his thought and feeling, he knew not how nor 
 when. This had broken down the tissues of his 
 mental and moral character and robbed him of 
 the strength and courage born of faith and hope. 
 
 Although he had grown skeptical before his 
 mother's death, neither she nor Pauline knew of 
 it. Anxiously the lovers of temperance and 
 humanity watched his course. Pauline's con- 
 fidence had almost reached that state where her 
 mind could get a season of rest. Maria began 
 to lay golden plans for the future in which her 
 own selfish aims were kept in view. 
 
 There were some good people in Staunton 
 who said to themselves that it was only a ques- 
 tion of time. Guy's house was builded on the 
 sand, and lacking the solid foundation of faith 
 would fall. These prophesies failed to reach the 
 ears of his anxious family and they did not realize 
 that a dark cloud hung over their heads ready to 
 burst in all its fury. 
 
 * # # * * * * * 
 
 The family at the little cottage are partaking 
 of their evening: meal. The face of Pauline is
 
 THE WORST FOE. 3Ot 
 
 grave and solemn. Guy looked at her and then 
 at his wife. There is not that peace and content 
 on the faces of the humble family which was prom- 
 ised in the past. At last Pauline broke the 
 silence by saying : 
 
 ' 'Do you remember what this day is the anni- 
 versary of?" fixing her pale anxious face on Guy 
 and Maria. Maria folded her napkin carefully 
 and answered : 
 
 "Let me see. It has been four years since 
 Guy brought me a silk until this afternoon. My 
 wardrobe has become downright shabby." 
 
 Pauline was pained and a disappointed look 
 came to the face of Guy. After a moment's 
 disappointment, he said: 
 
 "Pauline does not mean that. It is a year to- 
 day since mother was laid to rest." 
 
 For a moment Maria hung her head and some- 
 thing like a faint flush overspread her face, then 
 she said : 
 
 "Certainly, Pauline spoke of it the first of the 
 week, I ought to have remembered it." 
 
 "One year," repeated Guy slowly at the same 
 time heaving a deep sigh. "Can it be possible 
 that mother watches over us ? Is there a home 
 hereafter?" 
 
 "Why, Guy!" exclaimed Pauline, in pain 
 and astonishment. "We cannot know whether 
 our mother watches over us or not, and often I 
 have thought not. Her heart would bleed if she
 
 3O2 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 witnessed the trials of her children and sorrow 
 cannot enter Heaven. But there can be no 
 doubt of a hereafter. How can you doubt it ? 
 We are only here on probation ; and we should 
 think well how we spend our golden moments, 
 that we may be the better prepared to enter 
 Heaven which is eternal." 
 
 "I used to believe the same myself, but bitter 
 experience has taught me that, live as just as we 
 may, when the time to err comes we will do it 
 in spite of ourselves. Though only creatures of 
 circumstances, we receive the condemnation of 
 the world. Life is a drama. We may do what 
 we will behind the scenes, act ever so wisely or 
 prudently ; yet when the curtain rises for us to 
 appear on the stage, we mechanically play the 
 part assigned us, and the role the players as- 
 sume frequently surprises the world. But fate 
 has assigned us our parts and we may just as well 
 take them when the time comes as not." 
 
 "Who is the stage manager?" asked Pauline, 
 solemnly. ' 'If life is a drama and the world a 
 stage, there must be a stage manager." 
 
 "Fate manages the affair." 
 
 "But if there is no hereafter, why should fate 
 go to so much trouble for us? Why not let us 
 alone in blissful ignorance, instead of parading 
 us before a gaping world to play a part unsuited 
 to us ? Besides, if fate alone ruled the affairs of 
 mankind, we have nothing whatever to do with
 
 THE WORST FOE. 303 
 
 our future destiny. Were there not an immortal 
 soul which incites in every human heart a desire 
 to do noble deeds, to be an honor to himself, 
 and in honoring his own name, to honor man- 
 kind, we could not hope for the future, nor feel 
 remorse for the past ; we would be as the brutes, 
 we would not think even of fate. If you be- 
 lieve in fate, you believe in power. Why not 
 believe in God as that power, and man as His 
 subject ? 
 
 "Do you believe in fate, Pauline?" 
 "I know there is a divinity that shapes our 
 destiny, over which we have no control. We 
 are all born to die, but Christ redeemed us to 
 eternal life which can be ours if we choose. 
 When your little girl was born I asked myself is 
 she come into a world of disappointment and 
 woe, or will she choose eternal life. I decided 
 that I would do all I could for her. I thought of 
 you, Guy. She was yours and you would not 
 choose death for her. The iniquities of the 
 father are visited on the children even to the 
 third and fourth generation. You may call this 
 fate, but aside from what we inherit, fate has 
 nothing to do with us, and man is even able to 
 defy fate, and by the help of God overcome in- 
 herited appetites. Jesus broke the bars of death 
 and man can enter life eternal if he will." 
 
 "If life is a drama, I think the devil must be 
 the stage manager," interposed Maria.
 
 304 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 1 'If we believe in a devil, we must also believe 
 in a God. Satan sometimes makes his victims 
 play a role to which they are not adapted. The 
 devil never does a noble act, and he invites you 
 to do evil acts. There are others inviting you to 
 choose the part they have set for you. Their 
 Leader laid the foundation, and lives in the heart 
 of all that are good. His commandment covers 
 the ground. 'Love the Lord thy God, with all 
 thy soul, might and strength, and thy neighbor 
 as thyself.' Brother, you know what the enjoy- 
 ment of that love is. Satan had no power over 
 you, save the power of the appetite, that 
 could have robbed you of that enjoyment. In- 
 temperance brought you nothing but misery after 
 you became its slave." 
 
 Was not Pauline right ? Is there not as much 
 reason to believe in the personal character of a 
 God as of a devil ? And is it not much more 
 reasonable to believe in a God who made the 
 heavens and the earth than to believe in the in- 
 definite nothing that some people call fate? 
 What is fate? Who can tell? Is it an unseen 
 power of nature that acts upon persons and 
 things to control them ? Is it not more reason- 
 able to believe in an intelligent personal force, 
 and to name that force God, than it is to believe 
 in a blind, unintelligible force that some name 
 Fate? The greatest scientists of the world 
 say, "There is an unseen force at work in the
 
 THE WORST fruK. 30$ 
 
 \vorld that no science has yet discovered. " Why 
 can they not discover this force ? They are 
 aware of its presence, but cannot find it. The 
 Christian says this force is God. Three thou- 
 sand years ago in the days of Job the question 
 was asked, "Canst thou by searching find out 
 God ?" This recent confession of the great 
 scientists seems to prove the Scripture declara- 
 tion that, "Man by wisdom knew not God." 
 How then do Christians know God ? They say 
 that God reveals himself to them in a way that 
 he does not to unbelievers. They quote from 
 their Bible, ' 'No man knoweth the Father save 
 the Son ; and he to whom the Son doth reveal 
 him." They say God by his Spirit dwells in 
 the believer. And there does seem to have 
 been in believing Pauline an unseen sustaining 
 power that was not in her unbelieving brother 
 and his unbelieving wife. 
 
 There was a silence of half an hour's duration. 
 Guy walked the floor and sighed deeply every 
 few moments. Pauline's lips quivered, and she 
 could not say another word. She had not said 
 half she desired to say to her brother on the sub- 
 ject, and yet she dared not upbraid him lest 
 she should drive him farther from her. The 
 advice of William Strasmore seemed at this mo- 
 ment to be ringing in her ears, "Never waste a 
 golden opportunity." Her brother had lost his 
 faith, was a doubter, an infidel, and on the bor- 
 
 (30)
 
 3O6 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 der of that dark land of uncertainty called skep- 
 ticism. She would have given worlds then to 
 redeem him, but dared not argue with him lest 
 she make him more obdurate. 
 
 At last Guy went to his little daughter who 
 was playing with her doll, took her chubby face 
 between his hands, kissed her, and left the house. 
 He paused a moment when on the street as if ir- 
 resolute, but was soon walking down the street 
 toward his place of business. 
 
 Pauline Denesmore's brain was in a whirl. 
 She had seen her brother in delirium tremens and 
 on the border land of shadows, but the agony of 
 such a sight was nothing compared to the knowl- 
 edge that he had become an infidel. She still 
 hoped that his faith would make him whole, and 
 prayed that God's mercy might yet save him. 
 She realized that if he was again tempted to drink, 
 he would, without the saving grace of God, be 
 lost. If he lived a life of temperance there was 
 some hope yet for him, but alas ! one of the 
 strongest motives to temperance was now taken 
 away. If he fell again, there would be less shame 
 and remorse, and no religious hope to give him 
 aid. She closed her eyes against such grim fore- 
 bodings and silently prayed for the future. 
 
 The words of his sister strangely moved Guy 
 Denesmore, not that he believed anything she 
 had said. Satan still held him in subjection and 
 whispered, "There is no God." He knew he
 
 THE WORST FOE. 3O/ 
 
 was not so happy now as when he believed 
 in the religion his parents had taught him. Even 
 while he condemned himself for the ruin of his 
 family, he said : 
 
 "There is no God, if there had been, why 
 did not He save me ? " He passed the saloon in 
 which he had spent so many hours in debauchery. 
 Suddenly he seemed possessed of a strong de- 
 sire to enter it. His eyes were lifted heavenward. 
 Alcohol had bleared his vision, and he turned 
 them toward those dark screens. He knew that 
 within were men who, ashamed of their nefarious 
 business, carried it on behind screens and blinds. 
 There men entered, and hired the saloon-keeper 
 to take their honor, wealth and good name. 
 He thought of all this, and passed this gate of 
 earthly hell, but the thirst and burning desire 
 were so rapidly increasing that he knew he soon 
 must yield. Satan whispered, "Fate decrees it, 
 it 's useless to fight longer." At this moment a 
 second temptation in the form of a saloon pre- 
 sented itself, and he rushed madly in and was 
 lost to view behind those dark screens which hide 
 from the face of man many a heinous crime. 
 
 It was a dark night. The rain had poured 
 down all day, and now at midnight the windows 
 of Heaven seemed opened, and a deluge poured 
 upon the earth. The lights in the cottage were 
 turned low. The pale face and anxious looks of
 
 308 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 Pauline as she walked to and fro in the room, told 
 of her anxiety. Maria was sitting at a window, 
 the curtain of which she drew back, at intervals 
 of every few moments to peer out into the dark- 
 ness. Her eyelids were blistered with weeping, 
 and shivering with cold and dread she sighed : 
 
 "Oh ! the rain, it makes me so nervous ! One 
 o'clock ! what can keep him ? " 
 
 Pauline paused in her walk, looked down on 
 the poor, crouching figure at the window. Tak- 
 ing a seat by the side of the miserable wife, she 
 put her arm affectionately about her and tender- 
 ly said : 
 
 ' 'Poor Maria, I pity you, and I pity little Paul- 
 ine. How thankful we should be that the little 
 boy went to Heaven six months ago. What we 
 then thought an affliction is really a blessing. I 
 pity myself, but more than all, do I pity poor, 
 misguided Guy. Oh, Heaven! is there not 
 something that can yet be done to save him ? 
 There are others who will help us if they can." 
 
 Looking out of the window, Maria sobbed: 
 "I see no way. Oh! I wish I could die and 
 leave it all." 
 
 "I do not want to die," Pauline answered. 
 "I want to live to see this evil wiped away from 
 the face of our land, or in a fair way to be 
 trampled under the feet of humanity." 
 
 The long hours dragged wearily by. Morning 
 dawned, but no Guy came. Pauline could not
 
 THE WORST EOE. 3OQ 
 
 wait longer. The rain had now ceased ; and 
 with Guy's little child, she went forth in search 
 of the fallen one. We would that the picture 
 of this sister and child in search of the lost 
 brother and father, and the form of the poor, 
 half-demented wife at home, could be placed be- 
 fore every man who contemplates voting for 
 whisky or whisky men. Maria watched them 
 out of sight, and turned slowly from the door 
 with a sickening foreboding at her heart. 
 
 H % % * H % HS 
 
 A night of debauchery spent by Guy Denes- 
 more was nothing uncommon. In the dark hours 
 just before the dawn of morning, he started home. 
 He went to his office, where no patients ever en- 
 tered now, and entering it, dropped into a chair and 
 fell asleep. Some strange, fatal spell seemed on 
 him, and try as he would, he could not throw it 
 off. There seemed no escape from the inevitable 
 ruin which threatened him. He had long since 
 lost all hope. In the gray twilight of early 
 morning he awoke with a start. He was cold 
 and shivering, and it was some moments before 
 he could realize where he was. There was a 
 gnawing pain of remorse at his heart, and he was 
 in the depths of despair. Though his senses 
 were dulled, his recollection was keen and he 
 groaned in his misery. 
 
 'I am a poor, miserable fool a slave, and 
 there is no help no hope. All is wan despair, 
 here and hereafter."
 
 3IO THE WORST FOR. 
 
 He dare not look into the future for redemp. 
 tion and Heaven had disappeared before his athe- 
 ism. Matters had been steadily growing worse for 
 months. He thought of his wife, his child, his 
 sister and his own misery, and then his wild brain 
 tried to escape, but there was no escape. In his 
 maddening desperation he went to his desk and 
 opened it. There was all he wanted, but he 
 would be found and a stomach pump brought to 
 save him from eternal oblivion to this life of woe. 
 Those demons would not want him to escape 
 they preferred to see him paraded before them 
 for their own entertainment. He must be quick 
 or he would be cheated yet of that rest he so 
 long had desired. He opened drawer after 
 drawer as these wild thoughts ran riot through 
 his brain. At last his eyes caught sight of the 
 pistol for which he was searching. He hailed 
 it as a welcome friend, and chuckled with the 
 delight of a madman. It was loaded and in good 
 order. He must be quick or the demons of the 
 damned would come 
 
 When Pauline with the child reached the office 
 she was surprised to find the door unlocked. 
 The child ran in and cried : 
 
 "Oh, papa, papa are you asleep? " 
 
 Pauline entered, and saw her brother lying on 
 the floor, his face downward, and the fatal pistol 
 near his hand. She gave utterance to a piercing 
 shriek, and fell insensible to the floor. Whe*
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 she regained her consciousness, Mandy was 
 bending over her, and a physician and Mark stood 
 near. She was in her own bed, and for a mo- 
 ment could hardly comprehend what had hap- 
 pened. Maria's wailings brought it all back to 
 her mind. She afterwards learned that her scream 
 and the cries of the child had brought a police- 
 man to the office, and she had been quickly con- 
 veyed to the little cottage. Awaking to the aw- 
 ful realization of what had happened, Pauline 
 buried her face in her hands and cried : 
 
 "Oh, my brother my poor brother lost, 
 lost forever lost ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 HE MEETS HIS DESTINY. 
 
 "And on that cheek, and o'er that brow 
 
 So soft, so calm, so eloquent, 
 The smiles that win, the tints that glow, 
 
 But tell of days in goodness spent, 
 A mind at peace with all below, 
 
 A heart whose love is innocent." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 WOULD better join our party, to-mon 
 row, Day. You have never beheld more 
 beautiful scenery and you will find it a gay little 
 party, one which will drive dull care away. A 
 great many of our young folks will be going, " 
 
 "I appreciate your manifest interest in me ; and 
 I will be most happy to accompany your party. 
 When do you start? " 
 
 "At six o'clock. You can have a seat in my- 
 carriage. I will call for you." 
 
 ' 'Thank you, I will be ready. Good evening. " 
 
 "Good-by, Mark, I will be sure to call; " and 
 bowing, the last speaker hurried away. 
 
 Mark Day remained standing a few seconds, 
 on the long porch in front of his hotel, and then, 
 turning about went to his room. ' 'I feel guilty,
 
 THE WORST FOE. 315 
 
 he sighed, "when I think of joining a pleasure 
 party. Poor Maria and Pauline ! they can take 
 no pleasure but Pauline charged me strictly to 
 have a good time, and that I must regain my 
 appetite. I guess I've done that, for it has not 
 been very faraway from me. Yet I would rather 
 not go with that party. Snow would not have 
 asked me had he known that not two months 
 since my sister's husband, a man of whom I was 
 once so proud, committed suicide." 
 
 He ceased talking while a shudder passed over 
 his frame. Somehow he always shuddered when 
 he recalled that horrible scene. "This is Prohi- 
 bition Kansas, " said Mark to himself sadly, "and- 
 to let them know that my family has been ruined 
 by strong drink would be a stigma on myself. 
 Thank Heaven, I am in one State where it is dis- 
 reputable to drink ! and even though drinking is 
 done on the sly, it is not so destructive as the bold 
 and open sale in my native State. Licensed rum 
 holes do not confront us on every hand to corrupt 
 the morals of the youth. Like any other crimi- 
 nal, the liquor vender must carry on his nefarious 
 business in secret." 
 
 For a few years past Mark had labored and 
 studied beyond his strength. His physician had 
 advised him for some time to rest, and take a 
 short trip into some of the border states or terri- 
 tories. After Guy's sad death, Mark was pros- 
 trated from a fever doubtless produced by the
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 shock and the wasted condition of his system. 
 His employers counseled together and by the 
 advise of his physicians it was determined to send 
 him away. Mark was an exemplary young man, 
 and had a host of friends. All of them joined 
 his relatives and employers in urging him to take 
 a tour in the great West. Pauline and his sister 
 were perhaps the strongest in their solicitations. 
 A party of sportsmen were going to Iowa, and 
 he joined them. When they were ready to re- 
 turn, he concluded to go still farther west, and 
 wended his journey to Colorado. While living 
 among the mountains, he met Fred Snow, who 
 persuaded him to go with him to his home in 
 Kansas. Mark, having decided to go on the 
 picnic excursion, set himself about writing letters 
 to Maria and Pauline. His letters were lengthy 
 epistles, for he had much to tell. The wonders of 
 the West were new to him, and he described the 
 magnificent scenery with a glow of enthusiasm. 
 "I hardly expected to come here," he wrote, 
 "but I have been fully repaid for this visit. This 
 is a beautiful country, the towns are new, healthy 
 and moral, without the debasing rum holes to 
 delude and degrade the good people here. When 
 you write, try to send me the address of the 
 Misses Hammond, and I will endeavor to hunt 
 them up." 
 
 While Mark was writing, his new found friend 
 was interesting himself in his cause. Two young
 
 THE WORST FOE. 315 
 
 ladies were seated on a rustic bench beneath a 
 large shade tree, and Snow had joined them. 
 One of the young ladies was bright and fair, with 
 a pleasant smile and winning way. The other, 
 about the same age, was dark and beautiful, with 
 an air of dignity which repelled strangers and 
 welcomed friends. When Fred joined them, 
 they all at once began talking of the morrow. 
 
 "We are going to have a capital time, but 
 there is one favor I want you to grant, Miss 
 Lillie, " said Fred. 
 
 ' 'I grant a favor ? " she asked, her eyes grow- 
 ing round with surprise. ."Of course, if I can, 
 I will what is the favor ? " 
 
 "Take a seat in our carriage, and let your sis- 
 ter ride with Mr. Templeton. " 
 
 "Oh, no, Mr. Snow. Much as I would like 
 to accommodate you, I could not think of doing 
 that." Her companions laughed, and the other 
 young lady whose name was Ida Frost, said : 
 
 "Why not ride with us, Lillie, just this once. 
 Of course we know that you love your sister and 
 would like to be in her company ; but this is an 
 extra occasion let Mr. Templeton have the 
 pleasure of her company. You know it would 
 make him extraordinarily happy, for much as he 
 likes you, Lillie, this is a case where two is better 
 company than three." 
 
 "You are mistaken," Lillie answered with 
 piquancy that was pleasing. ' 'When I am along
 
 316 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 I do all the talking, and Mr. Templeton can study 
 the beauties of nature undisturbed. If he were 
 with Deena, he would have more than half the 
 talking to do himself." 
 
 "He can do it, never fear," broke in Fred. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Snow, why do you want me to 
 ride in your carriage? I believe there is a con- 
 spiracy on foot." 
 
 "I will admit the truth. When I was among^ 
 the mountains, I formed the acquaintance of an 
 excellent young fellow. He was a little quiet at 
 first, but really entertaining when I drew him 
 into conversation. I had this excursion in view 
 when I persuaded him to accompany me home. 
 He is a young man about my own age, and he, 
 you, Ida and I, would make a very pleasant 
 quartette. ' ' 
 
 "It is a very nice little plan, I must admit, 
 but I cannot think of giving up my place in Mr. 
 Templeton's carriage." 
 
 When Fred and Ida went away, Lillie entered 
 her own house. Deena was absent and Lillie 
 spread the cloth and prepared the supper for her- 
 self and sister. As she was busy with her work, 
 she ruminated : 
 
 ' 'Of course it would give Mr. Templeton great 
 pleasure to have a ride alone with Deena, and 
 Deena thinks a great deal of him, though she is 
 so distant. I cannot understand her. I 
 I will ask her when she comes."
 
 THE WORST FOE. 317 
 
 But when she did come, Lillie told her tea was 
 ready, and she hurried Deena into the neat little 
 dining room, and soon forgot the subject. Lil- 
 lie's tongue rattled away at a rapid rate as only a 
 merry girl's can. 
 
 "I want you to taste my pears, Deena, "she 
 said. "I think they are just as nice as can be. 
 I thought I would never learn preserving, but I 
 guess I will make a success of it yet." 
 
 From this the conversation branched off into 
 house-cleaning, preserving, and canning fruit, 
 then drifted off to plants, birds, books and schools, 
 but not once was the name of Mr. Templeton 
 mentioned. The matter had either slipped from 
 Lillie's mind, or she was afraid of wounding 
 Deena's feelings. 
 
 The next morning when Fred Snow's carriage 
 drove up, Lillie went to the door expecting to 
 see a stranger seated by Fred's side, but no one 
 was there. 
 
 She cared nothing for this stranger, and still 
 she could not but have a little curiosity concern- 
 ing him. Who was he, and what was he like ? 
 When she was with Mr. Templeton and her sis- 
 ter driving to the picnic, she told them of the 
 stranger of whom Mr. Snow had spoken. It was 
 very little she knew, for she could not even tell 
 his name. Mr. Templeton listened very atten- 
 tively, only saying when she paused for breath : 
 
 "Indeed!"
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 After their arrival at the picnic grounds, and the 
 baskets were stowed away, Deena was sitting by 
 Ida's side, when Fred Snow, throwing himself 
 down on the grass before them, said : 
 
 "I suppose Miss Lillie told you about our new 
 guest." 
 
 "No, I think not." 
 
 "I met a young gentleman last week while 
 among the mountains, and invited him to come 
 home with me. I wanted him to see our beauti- 
 ful country and become acquainted with our peo- 
 ple, and so decided that we would pass a day in 
 the country. Here he is, waiting for us." 
 
 As he finished speaking, there came up a 
 young gentleman with manly form and dark eyes, 
 who bowed and smiled. Deena Hammond 
 thought there was something familiar in his man- 
 ner, and when Mr. Snow introduced him as his 
 friend Mr. Day, her heart gave a great bound 
 and stood still. Mark was also a little bewildered 
 when introduced to the Misses Hammond. As 
 the gay young folks began talking, Mark asked 
 himself : 
 
 ' 'Can that lady be Miss Deena Hammond. If 
 it is, she of course knows all about poor Guy. I 
 believe I'll ask her if she once lived in Staunton. " 
 He turned to look at her, but her face was averted. 
 For a few moments he tried to catch her eye but 
 in vain. ' 'This lady is really better looking than 
 was Deena Hammond." 
 
 He tried to draw Miss Hammond into conver-
 
 THE WORST FOE. 319 
 
 sation, but she seemed averse to him, and Mark 
 decided not to press his notice upon her. He 
 directed his attentions to Miss Ida, whom he 
 found a most agreeable companion. 
 
 During the day Mark was introduced to the 
 entire company, making a favorable impression 
 on all save Deena Hammond, who sighed and 
 said to herself: 
 
 "Why does a Day again cross my path ? Am 
 I doomed to have my sky darkened forever by 
 some one of that name ? " 
 
 It seemed a relief to promenade with Mr. 
 Templeton, and somehow she found herself in- 
 voluntarily clinging to him whenever Mark came 
 near. Why should she shrink from Mark Day ? 
 Surely there was not a more innocent young man 
 in all the country. Mark and Lillie, Fred and 
 Ida formed a happy little group to themselves, 
 and as the former couple finally took a little stroll 
 about the pic-nic camp, Ida whispered to Fred : 
 
 "I hope Mr. Day will not decide to take Lillie 
 away. You will be to blame if he does." 
 
 "How quickly girls jump at conclusions! What 
 would Mark and Lillie think if they knew of 
 those dark suspicions ? " 
 
 With a deep blush, Ida responded : 
 
 "It is you who jump at conclusions. I only- 
 used the subjunctive if, and you talk as if it was 
 I instead of yourself, who had been maturing 
 plans. "
 
 32O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 They soon joined their companions, and the 
 four formed a merry group during the remainder 
 of the day. Deena went home in company with 
 Mr. Templeton, Lillie having been prevailed 
 upon to ride back in the carriage with Ida, Fred 
 and Mark Day. On their return, Mark learned 
 from Lillie that they once lived in Staunton. He 
 was surprised that when she learned he was from 
 the same town, that she asked no questions about 
 the people there, and in fact she seemed very 
 anxious to avoid discussing questions that would 
 be likely to revive memories of childhood. Lil- 
 lie reached her humble home all aglow with 
 pleasure and enthusiasm. 
 
 "Oh, Deena, I never had such a day of fun," 
 she cried when she met her sister. : ' Mr. Day 
 is just splendid. He is from Staunton, and is 
 well acquainted with your friend Pauline, and 
 seems to like her just as well as you do. He and 
 Fred, and Ida and I, are going off to-morrow to 
 have a picnic by ourselves. Fred is so glad 
 that my school doesn't commence for three weeks. 
 I am too, for we will all have a gay time until it 
 opens." Her eyes sparkled with anticipated 
 happiness. Deena noticed it, and it was the sig- 
 nal for a great struggle in her breast. Should 
 she dash the hopes and happiness of poor Lillie 
 to the ground, or must she wait, trusting in 
 Heaven to teach her that no Day was to be trusted? 
 Long after she had retired, Deena Hammond
 
 THE WORST FOE. 321 
 
 tossed on her sleepless couch asking herself what 
 she should do under the circumstances. 
 
 That evening Fred Snow was astounded to 
 learn that Mark had met the Misses Hammond 
 before. He told of first meeting Lilli when she 
 was a little prattling child. 
 
 "Why, that is quite a romance," cried Fred 
 when he had learned all, ' 'and you met her here 
 after so many years when you never expected to 
 see her again." 
 
 Lillie Hammond was mingled with the dreams 
 of Mark Day on that night. He also saw the 
 cold expression and strange frown on Deena's face, 
 which had puzzled him so. She seemed to repel 
 him, and one glance of her eyes chilled him. 
 Every time Lillie came floating toward him in 
 his dreams, Deena Hammond, who seemed jeal- 
 ously guarding her sister sprang between them, 
 and left only her own sad, white face before him.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 LILLIE AND MARK. 
 
 " 'Oh, what! ' the voice enquired again, 
 
 "Hath wrought this change, so sad and strange,' " 
 
 TT7WO happy weeks for Mark and Lillie had 
 -*- passed. Mark spoke of returning home in 
 a few days, and noticed with some degree of 
 pleasure the almost imperceptible shadow on 
 Lillie's face when he mentioned the subject of 
 his departure. She was arranging a button-hole 
 bouquet, and Mark complimented her taste. At 
 his request she pinned it on his coat. Their con- 
 versation was far more interesting to themselves 
 than it would be to the reader, so we will 
 omit it. 
 
 Deena Hammond, who was watching them 
 from the latticed, vine-covered window, heard 
 every word they spoke, and noticed with alarm 
 those tender glances which spoke much more 
 than words. A look of distress settled on her 
 face, and when they went away to Ida's house, 
 she said to herself: 
 
 "My duty is very plain now. For two weeks 
 I have put off saying what I ought to have said 
 
 322
 
 THE WORST FOE. 323 
 
 at the beginning of this acquaintance. I knew 
 it I felt it from the time they first met, that their 
 friendship would become something more. He 
 talks fair so did the other ; but he would stoop to 
 anything to accomplish his purpose. I must 
 watch him. My precious Lillie shall not suffer 
 as I have." 
 
 When Lillie Hammond returned that evening, 
 she was not a little alarmed at the paleness of her 
 sister's face. 
 
 "Deena, are you sick?" she cried, as she gazed 
 at her. "What can I do for you? I have not 
 noticed this before, but I expect you have been 
 ill all along. Let me go for a doctor." 
 
 "No, no, Lillie, a doctor couldn't cure me," 
 said Deena, laying her hand on the shoulder of 
 her impulsive sister. "I am troubled, Lillie. 
 Never under any circumstances consent to a mat- 
 ter of secrecy." Lillie Hammond fixed her as- 
 tonished eyes on her sister's face, and was dumb 
 with wonder. Deena, strangely agitated, con- 
 tinued: "I thought because I did nothing dis- 
 honorable, that secrecy would be romantic, but 
 oh, I have paid most dearly for my folly. Life 
 has for years been a burden. When we came 
 out here in this unknown world, and so many 
 friends sprang up about us, I thought the past 
 forgotten buried forever, but it has followed 
 me I will never be free." She ceased speak- 
 ing, and sinking back on the sofa, buried her
 
 324 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 face in her hands. Lillie could only stand and 
 stare at her sister in amazement, and wonder 
 what was the matter with her. After a few mo- 
 ments Deena seemed to partially recover herself, 
 and in a voice strangely calm she said : 
 
 "Lillie, has Mark Day said any thing to you of 
 the future?" 
 
 "What do you mean ? " asked Lillie. 
 
 "Has he has he said he was coming back, or 
 asked permission to write to you ? " 
 
 "No, he has done neither. The tone of his 
 conversation has always been just the same as 
 when you were by." 
 
 For a few moments Deena sat gravely looking 
 down upon the floor. Her brow was contracted, 
 and beyond a doubt there was a great struggle 
 going on within her breast. At last she raised 
 her head and asked : 
 
 "Lillie, don't you like him ? " 
 
 The girl blushed, and after a few moments she 
 answered : 
 
 "Yes, just the least bit, but a girl should nev- 
 er give h^r love until it is asked. He has never 
 spoken to me yet on the subiect." 
 
 "Suppose he should? " 
 
 "I'm afraid- -afraid I cannot exactly tell." 
 
 "I think I can tell. You like Mark Day now ; 
 he is a fine looking young man with pleasing ad- 
 dress and winning ways. You could easily learn 
 to love him if he asked you- could you not >"
 
 THE WORST FOE. 325 
 
 "Well," said Lillie deliberately, while a roguish 
 twinkle appeared in her eyes, ' 'I guess indications 
 point that way." 
 
 Though she had spOKen ^ghtly of the matter, 
 her crimson face and trembling form bore evi- 
 dence to the truthfulness of her statement. 
 Lillie made a struggle to conceal her emo- 
 tions from her sister, but it was all in vain. 
 Deena gazed at her blushing sister a moment, 
 and said ; 
 
 "Lillie Lillie, it must not be." 
 
 Slowly and solemnly as if about to engage in 
 some serious undertaking, Deena rose and left 
 the room. She was gone but a few moments 
 when she returned, carrying a heavy wooden 
 casket which contained all the relics of the fam- 
 ily. This casket had been the greatest curiosity 
 to Lillie, simply because she knew not what 
 it contained. Every chest, box and drawer 
 she had ransacked through, time and- again, 
 but that small casket had ever been a sealed 
 mystery to her. When quite small she had 
 in vain appealed to Deena to open it, and 
 had at last come to regard it as a Pandora's box 
 which was never to be opened. 
 
 When Deena took her place by her side with 
 the mysterious casket on her knee, Lillie hoped 
 that her long pent up curiosity would be satisfied. 
 She said nothing, for she was already aware how 
 useless it was for her to appeal to her sister.
 
 326 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 With wide open eyes she watched her sister un- 
 lock the casket, and raise the lid. Only some 
 bundles of old letters were visible, but when 
 Deena removed these, there remained a large 
 official envelope at the bottom. It was unsealed, 
 and Deena taking it out, drew from it a legal 
 looking document which she placed in Lillie's 
 hand, saying : 
 
 "Read that, and you will understand all." 
 
 When Lillie had examined the document, she 
 threw her arms about poor Deena's neck and 
 sobbed : 
 
 "Poor, poor, sister, how could you keep this 
 secret all to yourself for so many years ? Why 
 did you not tell me before ?" 
 
 "For our brother's sake I was bound to keep 
 it, and had not Mark Day come here, this secret 
 would never have been revealed even to you." 
 
 "But when George died, why did you not tell 
 me?" 
 
 "It would have done no good, given me pain, 
 and brought reproach on the memory of George. 
 But I will tell you all about it now, nothing shall 
 be kept from you." 
 
 With bowed head and trembling form, Lillie 
 listened to the story of her sister's wrongs. 
 Midnight came and found them sitting very 
 quietly, the one telling, the other listening. 
 Deena's face was like marble as she continued 
 to unveil the past. 
 
 *******
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "I guess I will be honorable in this affair," 
 said Mark Day to himself, as he sat alone in his 
 room in the hotel. "Lillie is an orphan and 
 depends on her older sister to take the place of 
 both mother and father, and much as I dread the 
 freezing looks of Deena Hammond, I will get her 
 permission before I mention a correspondence to 
 Lillie. Ugh ! I dread Deena Hammond as much 
 as I used to dread Bill Barnes. But if I succeed 
 as well with her as I did with Bill, I shall be 
 happy." Mark had formed a habit of thinking 
 aloud, especially on matters which he wished to 
 discuss with himself. 
 
 Next morning he went to the little home of 
 Deena and Lillie Hammond. The former met him 
 with a deeper gravity than he had ever noticed 
 before. She invited him into the little parlor, 
 where he sat for several moments trying to 
 muster up courage to mention the object of his 
 visit. He had felt from the very first that for 
 some unaccountable reason Deena Hammond 
 had an increasing dislike for him. But he was 
 desperate now and determined to fight his way 
 through boldly. When he had asked the privilege 
 of corresponding with her sister, Deena fixed her 
 eyes on him for a moment, and asked : 
 
 "Will you not do so any way whether I con- 
 sent or not?" 
 
 Mark was confused by this direct question. 
 He had to think twice before he answered, but 
 mastering himself he answered/
 
 328 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "I shall be honorable, Miss Hammond. I will 
 abide by your decision. " 
 
 Deena was taken by surprise at the candor and 
 manliness of Mark. For a few moments she was 
 silent and then she said : 
 
 "I may seem rude, very rude, Mr. Day, but if 
 the mists should ever clear away, you will not 
 blame me for guarding Lillie's happiness. You 
 are both young ; your friendship will keep as it 
 is. With youth and hope to sustain you, you 
 may both wait until the dark clouds that now 
 obscure the sky have rolled away." 
 
 "I will roll them away as soon as possible. 
 If you have no objection I would like to call 
 again and see your sister." Deena could not 
 refuse one who seemed so honest, truthful and 
 candid ; she consented, and Mark left, but it was 
 with a heavy heart. He had grown to love Lillie 
 Hammond, and her sister's aversion to him was 
 strange and unaccountable. 
 
 Mark made Arthur Templeton his confidant, 
 and was taken into Arthur's confidence in return. 
 There was a deep mystery behind all those dark 
 clouds, they very well knew, and both agreed to 
 do all they could to clear it away. Arthur was 
 sanguine that all would yet end well, and though 
 Mark, like most young lovers, was almost on the 
 verge of despair, he resolved to do all in his 
 power to win the friendship of Deena and the 
 hand and heart of Lillie Hammond.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 329 
 
 When Mark called next morning, he noted a 
 change in the manner ofLillie. She seemed 
 frightened at the sound of his voice, and he 
 found her trembling and apparently avoid- 
 ing him. Mark was very grave himself. Both 
 Deena and Lillie noticed the changed demeanor 
 of the youth, and especially the paleness of his 
 face. Deena felt that she had wronged Mark, 
 when she remembered how well Pauline had 
 spoken of him in her letters. But she reasoned 
 with her wounded conscience that she could not 
 be too careful in guarding her sister's happiness. 
 When Mark bid Deena adieu, he said he hoped 
 to visit them again. To Lillie he said : 
 
 "Good bye, Miss Lillie. This has been a 
 very pleasant visit to me, and you have contrib- 
 uted your share to make it pleasant. I shall 
 often hear from you through our mutual friend, 
 Mr. Templeton." 
 
 Lillie had never known since her childhood 
 what it was to feel lonely until Mark had left the 
 village. It seemed that the day following his 
 departure would never end. When twilight 
 came she seated herself on the porch. Her dog 
 Carlo came to her side and began caressing her 
 hand. She did not notice him until he lost 
 patience at her neglect and began to howl dis- 
 mally. 
 
 "Go get your ball, Carlo, and we'll have a 
 romp. Go like a good dog and find your ball,"
 
 33O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 He started off with a yelp of delight, his laugh- 
 ing eyes expressing his pleasure. The ball was 
 found and Lillie was throwing and Carlo catch- 
 ing it, when Ida Frost came. 
 
 "I thought you would be lonesome, so I came 
 to stay awhile with you, " she said, ' 'but you seem 
 to be enjoying yourself, I wish you didn't have 
 to go away." 
 
 ' 'I think I will get a position nearer home next 
 time," said Lillie, laughing. 
 
 "I'm afraid not," Ida responded with much 
 gravity. "I'm afraid you will accept a position 
 that may take you out of the State. It is as 
 natural for you to be a Day, Lillie, as it is for 
 Frost to turn to Snow." 
 
 Lillie laughed and asked her to come into the 
 house. The subject was quickly changed and 
 one would think that Mark was entirely out of 
 the girl's mind.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 AROUSED BY LIVING MEMORIES. 
 
 "Thy gifts, thy tables are within my brain, 
 Full charactered wiih ksting memory, 
 
 Which shall above that idle rank remain, 
 Beyond all date, even to eternity." 
 
 Shaketpeare. . 
 
 TN a well-furnished room in San Francisco a 
 * young man was sitting alone. It was an early 
 hour, and the occupant of the room was evi- 
 dently an early riser. His features bore 
 marks of mental industry, and severe 
 battles with the world had left their 
 traces on his noble brow. Firmness was 
 expressed in every lineament of that smooth- 
 ly-shaven face. He had evidently met with 
 temptation, and though unhorsed at the first 
 tilt, he had rallied and conquered his foe. Daily 
 papers were scattered in profusion about the 
 room. On the centre table lay a gold-clasped 
 bible. He took up a late paper, scanned fiist 
 the financial column, then the current news and 
 finally the political column. He threw the paper 
 down and looked at his watch. 
 
 "Fifteen minutes yet till breakfast," he said 
 
 Ml
 
 332 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 to himself. "Now, I can look over some of 
 those papers which I had not time to glance at 
 when I was so pressed with business." 
 
 He took up several which had been carefully 
 folded and laid away. Seating himself near the 
 window he unfolded one and began to read. 
 
 "Hello, what's this?" he suddenly cried, fix- 
 ing his eyes on a glaring head line, "Suicide in 
 Staunton" His eyes ran down the long column 
 of horror, devouring it all in a few moments. 
 Then starting up with hand to his forehead, he 
 said in broken sentences : 
 
 "Dr. Guy Denesmore a hard drinker for 
 several years tried to reform lived a sober 
 life for a year six months ago he took up his 
 old habits again and drank harder than ever 
 before" 
 
 He stopped and began walking back and forth 
 across the room. Several times he paused and 
 picked up the paper as if in doubt as to whether 
 he had made a mistake or not. Three or four 
 times he read it all over, and throwing the paper 
 down, began again in broken sentences : 
 
 "The family destitute that must be newspa- 
 per gossip. Why the Denesmores were rich. 
 No, he drank hard for several years, and it may 
 all be so yet. But where is William Strasmore ? 
 He saved others, could he not save his wife's 
 brother ? Poor Pauline, will not this break her 
 heart ? He has a family, and they are in desti
 
 THE WORST FOE. 333 
 
 tute circumstances. Perhaps I can now repay 
 some of the debts of gratitude I owe the family. 
 To William Strasmore and Pauline I owe every- 
 thing that I am. I will go back to that place 
 where I knew so much humiliation and misery ; 
 I will visit the graves of my parents and sisters. 
 That I will meet Ernest Day is my only reason 
 for regretting to return to my old home. I feel 
 that if I have an evil genius on earth, it is he. 
 "Ah, Guy Denesmore," he finally mused, 
 "when I think how life began with us and how 
 it has ended with you, I am more astounded at 
 your fall than my own. I will start for my old 
 home just as soon as the necessary arrangements 
 can be made." With these thoughts he quitted 
 the room. 
 
 Perhaps the reader would like to know where 
 George Hammond has been all these years while 
 his friends have mourned him as dead. We left 
 him faintly knocking at the door of faith and 
 asking for help. Did ever mortal knock in vain ? 
 In Omaha, George found that temptations beset 
 him. Once he entered a saloon, raised the glass 
 to his lips ; he paused, set it down, looked at the 
 faces of those present, thinking to himself: 
 
 "I left old associates that I might be able to 
 break off this habit, and free myself from this 
 bondage. Strasmore advised me to cast my lot 
 among different people." He could bear these 
 reflections no longer, but pushing back the glass^
 
 334 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 he hurried from the saloon never to enter anoth- 
 er. Did he have any more desire to drink? 
 Only those who are cursed with burning, crav- 
 ing appetites know what it is to resist the 
 tempting glass. That consuming thirst which 
 water cannot satisfy, that morbid appetite 
 for strong drink, is the most terrible agony that 
 suffering humanity is ever called on to endure. 
 George still knocked, though timidly, at the door 
 of faith. He wrote to his family that he would 
 go to Denver, Colorado, the next day after writ- 
 ing that letter, and they were to write him there. 
 By the same mail he sent a letter to Strasmorein 
 which he confessed his temptation and his resis- 
 tance. 
 
 In Denver he obtained a position as clerk in 
 a retail store. His industry and honesty soon 
 won the confidence of his employers. He had 
 been here but a lew weeks when he was 
 prostrated with a lingering fever. The physicians 
 did not consider him dangerously ill, but 
 thought the fever must run its course. When 
 he was able to read there were several letters 
 awaiting him. The contents of these proved 
 a terrible blow to George. A serious relapse 
 set in, and for weeks very little hopes were 
 entertained for his recovery. For days his life 
 seemed suspended by a thread ; a slight change 
 for the better at last came. Very slowly he was 
 brought back to life, and to the full realization 
 that all his friends were gone.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 335 
 
 "I am alone in the world ! Why could I not 
 have gone with them ? " As the days grew into 
 weeks, he gained friends, and found, at last his lot 
 cast among the right kind of people. The promis- 
 es of his Savior brought peace to this wandering, 
 erring man. Disappointed with earth, he contem- 
 plated with joy a life hereafter. This brought 
 forcibly to his mind the knowledge that he had 
 abused his privileges ; but he felt the conscious- 
 ness within that his sins were forgiven. Slow- 
 ly he recovered strength, and with it a new hold 
 on life. He had been very economical since 
 leaving Staunton, and had accumulated consider- 
 able money, which was to defray the expense of 
 his father and family to the West. All this was 
 spent during his illness, and when he was once 
 more able to leave his bed, he not only found 
 himself penniless, but with a heavy debt hanging 
 over his head. There was no one now at home to 
 whom to write, so he lived a year or two in 
 Denver, and a better opening at San Francisco 
 being offered to him, he accepted it, and became 
 cashier in a bank. He had not only found ex- 
 cellent remunerative employment, but that peace 
 which passeth understanding. George Hammond 
 was numbered among the redeemed, and lived 
 in blessed anticipation of a better life in the 
 world to come. While preparing to return to 
 the home of his childhood, he thought : 
 
 "Guy noble, generous Guy so generous
 
 336 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 that he would not raise his voice in opposition to 
 a man selling intoxicating drinks, had sanctioned 
 the evil by his silence, to his own destruction, 
 soul and body. But William, so powerful to save 
 from woe, where was he, and why did he not 
 snatch Guy from perdition? " 
 
 3)C * # * % # * 
 
 The very night that Lillie Hammond spent 
 sleeplessly tossing on the bed, partly on her 
 sister's account, and partly on her own, Mark 
 Day was on his way home, his mind busy 
 with painful and perplexing thoughts. When Mark 
 reached Staunton, he was met at the depot by a 
 physician, who informed him that his brother 
 was dangerously ill. He went immediately to 
 Ernest Day's residence, the old homestead, and 
 there remained at his brother's side day and 
 night for a fortnight. One evening a friend of 
 Mark called to enquire after Ernest's condition, 
 and told Mark that George Hammond, whom 
 they had all supposed dead, had suddenly turned 
 up. Mark expressed a strong desire to see him, 
 and his friend promised to remain in his place for 
 a few hours and see that the nurse did his duty, 
 and assist him as best he could. 
 
 "Very well," said Mark, "I will call on Maria 
 and Miss Denesmore, and if Hammond is in 
 town, he will be very liable to call there. " 
 
 When he reached the cottage, Maria had 
 gone to bed, and Pauline and the little girl were
 
 THE WORST FOE. 337 
 
 in the sitting room. Little Pauline ran to her 
 uncle Mark's arms, and he held her on his knee, 
 while he told Pauline of his journey west and 
 Ernest's illness. The child in his arms had gone 
 to sleep, and he had laid it on the sofa, when the 
 door-bell rang. Mark answered it, anc 1 admitted 
 a tall gentleman. 
 
 "I believe Dr. Denesmore's family lives here," 
 said the stranger, interrogatively. 
 
 "Yes sir, will you walk in ? " 
 
 "Thank you." Stepping inside, he added, 
 "My name is Hammond." 
 
 "Can it be possible that this is George Ham- 
 mond," cried Pauline, who had followed Mark 
 into the hallway. 
 
 "It is, and if I am not mistaken I have met 
 you before." 
 
 "You have. I am Pauline Denesmore, " she 
 answered, extending her hand and welcoming the 
 wanderer back. 
 
 "Pauline Denesmore," he said almost incred- 
 ulously, as he fixed his eyes on her. 
 
 "Yes sir, I am Pauline Denesmore," she an- 
 swered with a deep drawn sigh, "Time has 
 wrought changes in us all. You have changed 
 for the better, I for the worse. 
 
 "Not for the worse, Miss Denesmore," said 
 George Hammond after a moment's silent strug- 
 gle. "Your circumstances have materially 
 changed, and though you have suffered greatly, 
 
 (22)
 
 338 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 your trials have made you purer and better." 
 
 Pauline now informed George Hammond that 
 this young man who stood by them was Mark 
 Day, the mischievous boy they once had known. 
 George could hardly believe it, though he thought 
 he could discern the old mischievous twinkle still 
 in his eyes. It was not until they had been seated 
 for some minutes in the neat little sitting-room, 
 that Pauline in tones very low and sad, asked if 
 he had heard about Guy. 
 
 "I read an account of it in the papers about 
 two weeks ago." 
 
 A look of displeasure came into George 
 Hammond's face when he was introduced to 
 Mark Day. Mark noticed it himself, but realiz- 
 ing that he was Lillie's brother, he strove to 
 melt that icy reserve. When Mark at last said 
 that he had had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Ham- 
 mond's sisters but a few days before, George 
 bounded to his feet as if he had seen a ghost, and 
 cried : 
 
 "What! my sisters ! what do you mean ? " 
 
 "I mean that I visited your sisters Modenia 
 and Lillie only a few days ago." 
 
 "You must be crazy, " cried the amazed George 
 Hammond. "My sisters are dead. They have 
 been dead for years." 
 
 "You are deceived, Mr. Hammond. Your 
 parents are dead, but your sisters are alive and 
 well," said Mark earnestly. "I rather suspect
 
 THE WORST FOE. 339 
 
 that you have been misinformed or imposed on 
 concerning your family." 
 
 After a few moments, during which time 
 George Hammond sat trying to collect his 
 wits, he said : 
 
 "I received letters bearing Guy Densmore's 
 and William Strasmore's signatures, saying that 
 my parents and sisters were dead. It was not 
 in their nature to deceive. Poor Deena, poor 
 little Lillie I only hope I may be able to sift 
 this thing to the bottom. Where is Ernest 
 Day?" He fixed his eyes almost fiercely on 
 Mark as he spoke. 
 
 "At home very sick. I hope, Mr. Hammond, 
 you may not only be able to find out who 
 wronged you, but also his motive. If I can 
 be of any service I am at your command," 
 said Mark. 
 
 Both his hearers looked at him in wonder and 
 admiration, and a few moments later he left the 
 house to return to that sinful brother who was 
 perhaps nearing the end. Mark believed he 
 had found a clew and intended to follow it up 
 until he was satisfied. 
 
 "That is Guy's little girl," said Pauline, 
 pointing to the sleeping child. George bent over 
 the innocent sleeper, pressed a kiss on its cheek 
 and murmured : 
 
 "Guy's child ! I think I should have known 
 it had you not said so. She has her father's 
 features."
 
 34O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 It was late when George left the cottage. 
 He had given Pauline a brief sketch of his event- 
 ful life since he left Staunton. She in turn had 
 related her own sad history and they were 
 mutual sharers in each other's grief. Pauline 
 looked forward with as much joy to the family 
 reunion as did George himself. George was 
 at first inclined to set out at once for the village 
 in Kansas where his sisters lived ; but Pauline 
 prevailed on him to let her write a letter to them 
 gradually breaking the good news to Deena, and 
 she and George were to follow the letter in a few 
 days.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 THE DEATH BED CONFESSION. 
 
 ''But what will not ambition and revenge 
 
 Descend to ? Who aspires must down as low 
 
 As high he soared * * * Revenge, at first though sweet, 
 
 Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils." 
 
 Afiltvt. 
 
 TT ARK'S brain was very active. A word or a 
 J * look was sure to give him a truthful presenti- 
 ment. When George asked : 
 
 "Where is Ernest Day?" Like a flash Mark 
 recalled Deena's dislike for himself, the decep- 
 tion practiced on herself and brother, and the 
 conviction settled on his mind that they both 
 suspected the cunning, crafty Ernest Day as 
 the author of much of their misery. He knew 
 that Ernest only served himself, and that for 
 some reason he must have wanted the Ham- 
 monds out of the way. He determined to know 
 what that reason was. 
 
 When he returned to the bedside of Ernest he 
 found him nervous and restless. There had never 
 been much fraternal affection between these 
 brothers. Their paths had been so dissimilar, 
 and there had been so little in common between 
 
 341
 
 342 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 them that they had been little better than stran- 
 gers. Mark's morality (it could scarce be called 
 religion) made him an object of ridicule in his 
 brother's eyes. But when Ernest was sick and 
 suffering, and needed the watchful care of a 
 brother, Mark forgot all except his duty as a 
 brother. Ernest soon came to expect none but 
 Mark to administer to his wants. When 
 in his fretful, peevish state he found fault with 
 Mark, Mark joined him -and found fault with 
 himself. Ernest found he could accomplish noth- 
 ing by grumbling, so he tried the plan of ex- 
 acting more than any person could accomplish. 
 But Mark was so good natured and received his 
 scolding with such good grace, that Ernest at 
 last ceased to complain and was passive in the 
 hands of his brother and the doctor. This was 
 the first time Mark had left his post of duty since 
 he volunteered to act as nurse. Ernest was toss- 
 ing and groaning when Mark returned, and the 
 moment he entered, the sick man bade his broth- 
 er's substitute go away. Mark followed the man 
 into the hall and requested him to remain in the 
 building and within call. The man consented, for 
 he knew the end of Ernest Day's existence was 
 approaching. 
 
 Mark set to work as soon as he entered 
 his sick brother's room, to make his few 
 remaining moments as comfortable as it was 
 possible. He lifted the emaciated form to t
 
 THE WORST FOE. 343 
 
 chair, and turned the mattress and smoothed the 
 bed and pillows. Ernest's feet and hands were 
 growing cold and Mark began rubbing them to 
 restore the circulation. When they had again 
 assumed a partial warmth, he said : 
 
 "George Hammond is back ; I have seen him 
 this evening." Mark did not expect the shock 
 that his words produced on his brother. He 
 started strangely, and stared so wildly at poor 
 Mark that he could only stamrrier : ' 'You knew 
 him, didn't you ?" 
 
 "Why don't you ask if I knew Will Stras- 
 more ?" 
 
 "Because I know you knew him, but I guess 
 you know more about both George and William 
 than you would like to confess. " Mark knew 
 not what prompted him to make such an asser- 
 tion, it seemed to come involuntarily. Ernest, 
 with a look still more wild and fierce, half started 
 from the bed and fixing his strangely staring eyes 
 on his brother, almost shrieked : 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "You can tell, for you know." Ernest sank 
 back with a groan and closed his eyes. After a 
 moment he opened them and fixed them on the 
 anxious Mark. For a moment he stared at 
 his brother and then his lips parted and he mur- 
 mured : 
 
 "George Hammond back ! What will the end 
 be ? He and Pauline have failed. They will pity
 
 344 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 each other. Of course he is as poor as a church 
 mouse so is she ; but they can exchange rich 
 sentiments. Bosh ! Will Strasmore placed him 
 on his feet when he was in the gutter the letter 
 informed me that much. I guess he has come 
 back to take Will's place that will be the end 
 of it I very plainly see." 
 
 Extending his hands toward Mark, he said: 
 "It is coming on, they are growing cold again, 
 Mark." Mark rubbed them vigorously for a few 
 moments, but without producing any effect. 
 
 "It is no use," said Ernest, despairingly. 
 "My time is up. Don't you think so, Mark?" 
 
 "I fear it is, Ernest ; do you want me to call 
 any one?" 
 
 "No no, I want you alone with me. You 
 are a good boy, Mark, though I've never ap- 
 preciated you as I ought until this last sickness. I 
 can never repay you for what you have already 
 done for me, but don't leave me now, for it's 
 coming. I don't want any one but you by when 
 it does come ; it will soon be over. Oh, Mark, 
 this leap in the dark is an awful thing ! I have 
 heard of people dying happy. If I could live a 
 little longer, I might make amends. My life 
 has been a failure ; and it ends by a leap in the 
 dark." 
 
 Mark longed to comfort the dying infidel; 
 but being only a moralist himself, he lacked 
 that Christian faith which can make a dying 
 bed as soft as downy pillows. If Pauline were
 
 THE WORST FOE. 345 
 
 there, she could say the right thing, but there 
 was no one to speak a word of comfort or offer 
 a prayer for that dark soul, so soon to leave its 
 frail tenement of clay. After a few moments 
 Ernest Day gathering up his strength, began : 
 
 ' 'I shall not take this leap in the dark as a 
 coward. I have not been merciful, but you 
 shall learn it all. I have been a good financier 
 and my successful speculations have made me 
 rich. It will lawfully descend to my wife, broth- 
 er and sister " 
 
 "Your wife !" interrupted Mark, thinking 
 Ernest's mind must be wandering. 
 
 ' 'Yes, my wife, who is none other than the 
 lady you have known as Deena Hammond." 
 
 "Deena Hammond your wife !" 
 
 "Yes don't interrupt me again, Mark, for I 
 have much to say and my time is short. Oh, I 
 do so want to get this load lifted from my con- 
 science before I go. If I do not, I feel that it 
 will sink me deeper into hell. Deena and I grew 
 up together. I loved her. I know now she was 
 the only woman I ever loved. Good and pure 
 as she was I could not accept her with her 
 poverty. Still I could not give her up. I was 
 conscious of her goodness as well as her beauty. 
 When I learned that other suitors were seeking 
 to win her love, I became jealous. I was des- 
 perate and while I did not want to make her my 
 wife, I wanted to prevent her marrying any one
 
 346 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 else. I was intimate with George Hammond 
 and told him I loved Deena. George said we 
 were both too young to think of love, and 
 that my affection would only prove a boyish 
 fancy. When I swore that I would win his 
 sister, he said he would prevent it if he could, 
 unless I changed my course. I was too fast and 
 must give up my associations, habits, and quit 
 drinking if ever I expected to marry his sister. 
 It fired me and I swore I would make George 
 Hammond pay for his words." 
 
 Mark Day dropped the cold hand he had been 
 chafing, and fixing his eyes on his brother, men- 
 tally ejaculated : "God forbid that you should 
 ever have a counterpart." 
 
 "I was only a moderate drinker, Mark," 
 Ernest went on. "I loved liberty and when I 
 found that my drams were to be stopped it rous- 
 ed me. I loved wine, whisky and beer, for they 
 have been my chief comfort, but I always 
 knew when to stop until of late years, then I 
 occasionally took too much. I must give up 
 drinking to win his sister. It was an insult 
 thrown in my face. It was trampling under foot 
 one of my fixed principles liberty and I 
 laid revenge up in my heart. I secretly wooed 
 and won Deena Hammond and man never won 
 a truer or better woman. I found it much 
 easier to win her affection than her consent to 
 a secret marriage. When I first mentioned the
 
 THE WORST FOE. 347 
 
 subject she protested strongly, but I used the 
 old plea that my father would oppose the match 
 and might disinherit me, unless I married some 
 one whom he thought better fitted for my station 
 in society. Our wedding could be a quiet affair 
 and my father's objections would gradually pass 
 away. I would not let her go, I could not give 
 her up, and the more she tried to put me off the 
 more determined I was to have my way, and at 
 last she consented. She went to visit friends in 
 another State and I met her there. On her 
 eighteenth birthday we were married at the 
 house of a country clergyman. Three States lay 
 between the place of our marriage and my home, 
 and if I could but keep my tracks covered up the 
 matter might remain a secret. Only a few con- 
 fidential friends were in the secret, and they re- 
 garded it simply as a bit of harmless romance. 
 We returned home separately and completely 
 deceived every one. Deena soon grew tired of 
 deception and begged that the truth be told, but 
 I positively forbade her to hint it, and tears 
 and reproaches followed. Deena grew pale and 
 sad. Old Joe Hammond grew worse, George 
 became discouraged and the Hammond home 
 lost its attractions. I tried to buy Deena off and 
 wanted her to either get a divorce or let me have 
 one. It could have been done in the same State 
 where we were married and the world never 
 known of our silly union. She objected and
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 urged that if I did not want to marry again, why 
 did I want a divorce. She asked no support of 
 me, and our marriage could remain a secret un- 
 less I began paying attention to some other 
 lady. Should I do that my secret should be 
 published to the world by her putting our mar- 
 riage certificate on record. The poor girl had a 
 hard struggle to keep it all from her mother, but 
 she made her father's drunkenness an excuse, 
 and by that deceived the mother. About that 
 time Pauline returned from school. You re- 
 member what she was then, Mark, a lovely girl, 
 as pretty as Deena had ever been. Although 
 they were about the same age, Deena's troubles 
 made her look many years older. I knew that 
 Pauline was a woman any man might be proud 
 to call wife, and there was no objection to her 
 family. I coveted the prize, but already having 
 an encumbrance, I was riot free to win her. I was 
 several times at Denesmore's house, but usually 
 with Maria, for I knew that if provoked, Deena 
 would put her threat in execution. Guy return- 
 ed from college, bringing Strasmore with him. 
 An attachment sprang up between Pauline and 
 Strasmore which almost drove me mad with 
 jealousy. I hated Strasmore from the first ; his 
 cool politeness and piercing glances enraged me. 
 I determined to supplant him by fair means or 
 foul and set to work in earnest to accomplish my 
 object. The first thing to be done was to silent -j
 
 THE WORST FOE. 349 
 
 Peena. I have always been called cunning, but 
 then I played my finest card. Every evening I 
 spent with George Hammond making him think 
 I was his best friend. I knew his besetting sin 
 was an inherited appetite for strong drink and 
 worked that game on him. He believed and 
 trusted me, and by degrees I led him to the 
 saloon and gambling den. He was not of 
 the stuff of which moderate drinkers are made. 
 With him it was total abstinence or degrading 
 drunkenness. 
 
 "My plan worked like a charm. Deena bow- 
 ed under this new affliction and shut herself up 
 from the world. She failed rapidly and Pauline's 
 woe-stricken face has never been anything to 
 compare with Deena's. " 
 
 "Had you no honor no pity?" asked the im- 
 pulsive Mark. 
 
 "Don't mention pity. I would not let myself 
 think of pity. I had an end to accomplish and 
 I intended to do it regardless of every considera- 
 tion. George soon became a sot. You remem- 
 ber what an excellent tool old Fitzgooden was ? 
 Well, I made good use of him. Deena had 
 never seen him. I made her believe that George 
 had forged a note against me a?nd hired Fitz- 
 gooden to corroborate my statement, and she 
 believed us. Deena promised secrecy to save 
 George and I guess she has kept her promise 
 to this day, though she kept the marriage cer-
 
 35O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 tificate. But I was not safe. George braced 
 up and showed some signs of reformation and 
 started out West. I knew what his intentions 
 were and I knew that as sure as he became a 
 sober man, he would have his family with him. 
 Were they together the fact of his innocence 
 would leak out, and brother and sister would pub- 
 lish me to the world. But I foiled them there 
 again. You know John Porter was in the post- 
 office at that time. He and I were fast friends. 
 John was a scoundrel of the deepest dye, and I 
 made arrangements with him to save George Ham- 
 mond's letters and let me have them. He did 
 so, and I soon had a letter for William Stras- 
 more and Pauline. I kept up a correspondence 
 in the name of his various friends and relations 
 for some time." 
 
 The dying man was growing momentarily 
 weaker and his last sentences were scarce above 
 a whisper. He closed his eyes wearily ; and 
 Mark knowing his story was not yet told, put 
 some water to his lips and chafed his hands. 
 After a few moments Ernest spoke again. 
 
 "Do you think my time is up, Mark ?" 
 
 "I know it is, Ernest. I do not think you can 
 possibly live until to-morrow's sun sets. If you 
 have more to tell you had better tell it now 
 while you can." A shudder passed over the 
 dying man. 
 
 "This is awful, Mark, " he groaned. ' 'If I had
 
 THE WORST FOE. 351 
 
 even been a moral man, this leap in the dark 
 would not be so terrible." 
 
 "If you had been strictly moral, not only your- 
 self but others would have been saved worlds of 
 agony. But finish your story. " 
 
 "While George was sick in Denver, I had a 
 letter written in Strasmore's hand informing him 
 of the death of his parents and sisters, and sent 
 k. He was sick at the time and believed it. I 
 can tell no more I am going." 
 
 "William Strasmore quick tell me of him." 
 "I hated him he was my successful rival; 
 besides he was making a war against the liquor 
 traffic. It was the rashest act of my life, but 
 my brain was fired with hatred and whisky. 1 
 was on the common that night behind a tree, 
 and I fired that pistol. He fell that's all / 
 murdered him !" The last sentence was hissed 
 through clenched teeth and the eyes glared like 
 the orbs of a demon. 
 
 "What about Guy?" asked Mark. 
 "You don't think I killed him, do you ?" 
 "Tell all, Ernest, for time is almost up." 
 ' 'I was glad when Guy took his first glass. I 
 helped along every way I could. When I took 
 the mortgage on the Denesmore place I did it to 
 humiliate Pauline for twice rejecting me, and 
 / did it. She was forced to bear it all in 
 silence, too." After a moment's wrestling 
 with the ominous rattle in his throat, Ernest,
 
 352 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 said : "I didn't kill Guy outright as I did 
 Strasmore, but I might as well," 
 
 "You had better have done so," Mark an- 
 swered. ' 'Oh, Ernest, brother, I would willingly 
 lay down my life to make you a guiltless man." 
 
 All became still. Only that increasing death 
 rattle in Ernest Day's throat broke the silence. 
 The dissipation of this moderate drinker had at 
 last broken down even his iron constitution. 
 Mark was reviewing in his mind the awful death- 
 bed confession. Drink was at the bottom of 
 it all. Men love drink better than wife, 
 children, honor, life or soul. Men deliberately 
 commit perjury for drink. Was Ernest Day 
 alone to blame. His father had set the 
 example of shrewdness and of moderate drink- 
 ing before him. If Ernest had carried his 
 shrewdness beyond honesty, and his moderate 
 drinking to debauchery, is it to be wondered at 
 when the example was set so fairly before him ? 
 Fathers and mothers, how can you rest in your 
 graves, knowing that you are not guiltless of the 
 mis-spent lives of your children. 
 
 Mark, with folded arms, stood by the side of 
 his dying brother. The cheeks were wan and 
 hollow, the eyes sunken, and yet every feature 
 indicated long continued dissipation. The rattle 
 in his throat increased and his breath grew 
 shorter every moment. Mark went to the door 
 and told his friend in the hall to bring the 
 doctor.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 353 
 
 The physician came and said it would soon be 
 over. Ernest moved slightly and in a feeble 
 voice said : 
 
 "Mark! Mark! oh I am so cold and it is 
 growing dark. I am taking the awful leap. I 
 am about to fall oh do hold me back !" He 
 clutched his brother's arm almost frantically, 
 while the death rattle increased. 
 
 ' 'We have done all we can for you, brother. 
 The time for your change has come," said Mark, 
 while tears stole down his cheeks. 
 
 ' 'Yes, I know it I know it, Mark. I can not 
 see you hold my hand oh ! hold me back ! 
 
 "I am here Ernest right at your side, and 
 will hold your hand until it is all over." 
 
 A struggle and a groan that pierced Mark and 
 the doctor with its horror, and the dying man 
 straightened himself and breathed only at in- 
 tervals. 
 
 A messenger* was sent for Maria, but before 
 she came the eyes had closed forever. The 
 leap had been made in the dark. 
 
 Thus this man of almost unequalled cunning, 
 who had thwarted the plans of many, was not 
 able to thwart Death when he called. With 
 money he had carried many points, but money 
 could not save him now. While we linger for a 
 moment by his bier and look on the cold features, 
 let us ask if it paid him to succeed at the cost of 
 principle. The fear of death may not be the
 
 354 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 highest motive, but he who fears real danget is 
 wise. To avoid a terrible death, one should 
 avoid an evil life. Revenge may be sweet at 
 first, but is bitter at the last. "Tis better to be 
 wronged than wrong." Better be a William 
 Strasmore, starting influences for good to be lived 
 in other lives, though you die a martyr, than to 
 be an Earnest Day in possession of both the Day 
 and Denesmore estates, with guilt enough to sink 
 you to the lowest hell. 
 * * * * # * * * # 
 
 Early next day Mark called on George Ham- 
 mond at his hotel, and that part of Ernest's 
 confession which concerned George or Deena 
 was told him, but it was not until some months 
 later that he knew the whole story. Next mail 
 carried Pauline's letter to Deena, giving her the 
 news of the restoration of her long lost brother ; 
 also one from that brother informing her of the 
 death of Ernest Day. The same mail bore a 
 letter from Mark to Arthur Tempi eton which 
 proved an astounding revelation to that gentle- 
 man.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 THE REUNION. 
 
 "My sister ! my sweet sister ! if a name 
 Dearer and fairer were, it should be thine; 
 
 Mountains have divided us, but I claim 
 No tears, but tenderness to answer mine ; 
 
 Go where I will, to me thou art the same." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 \ 9 THEN George Hammond first met Pauline 
 ^^ Denesmore and noticed how changed she 
 was, his heart ached. He longed to call her away 
 and shield her if possible from the terrible 
 memories of the past. She had reigned in his 
 heart for years. Her kindness to himself and 
 sister during their unhappy childhood and even 
 in later years lingered among his brightest 
 recollections. Though their social positions 
 were so widely different that he could only 
 admire her from a distance, there were times 
 when the pretty face of Pauline Denesmore was 
 mingled with George Hammond's dreams. 
 Pauline little understood the position she held in 
 George Hammond's affections. She had never 
 loved but once, and that love was still as 
 
 355
 
 356 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 sacred as when first plighted. The memory of 
 William seemed sweeter in contrast to the days of 
 bitter anguish through which she had passed since 
 his death. Even the noble, manly George 
 Hammond roused sweet reflections of the 
 departed, for it was William who had saved him 
 from degradation and death. There was a sort 
 of sad pleasure in being with George, and before 
 he had been in Staunton a week she found herself 
 anxiously waiting and expecting his visits. 
 
 She never realized until the time came for 
 him to go, how lonely she would be when he 
 was gone. When in George's presence there 
 was a quiet content within her heart which sur- 
 passed any feeling she had experienced since 
 William's death. It had been Pauline's intention 
 to accompany George Hammond to Kansas, but 
 finally she determined not to do so. The day 
 before George's departure, Mark asked Pauline to 
 visit her old home once more. As Deena had an 
 interest in the place her brother was also invited 
 to accompany them. At first Pauline felt that the 
 task would be too much for her, but when George 
 urged her so earnestly to accompany him she 
 consented. It was the first time she had crossed 
 the threshold of that dear old home since she 
 had quitted it. His manly arm supported her 
 up and down the old stairs. They passed through 
 the halls and principal rooms, and now stood at 
 the parlor window looking out upon the beauti-
 
 THE WORST FOE. 357 
 
 ful grounds, where Pauline had spent so many 
 happy hours. Mark had excused himself to see 
 after some workmen for a moment. As they 
 were thus alone, the sad recollections came viv- 
 idly before Pauline, yet the words and presence 
 of George were so like balm to the bowed spirit 
 that she felt a comfort and rest that she could 
 not explain. As they stood thus, the words in 
 George's heart came to his lips. 
 
 "Miss Denesmore Pauline, I cannot leave 
 without making a confession to you. Had I not 
 found you battling with the storms of life, I 
 never would have dared tell you, for I feel your 
 superiority. Knowing what you have endured. I 
 can only wish that I could have shielded you 
 from all these troubles ; but I can give you the 
 homage of a pure love. It may be bold in me 
 to entertain such a hope. But can you not give 
 me a place in your affection ? We are past the 
 time for romance will you be my wife ? " 
 
 Pauline raised her astonished eyes to the 
 earnest, handsome face. This declaration was 
 certainly a great surprise to her. She looked 
 about to see if Mark was in the room, but he 
 was absent. Her feelings at that moment were 
 indescribable. Before her was a man whose 
 principles were as firmly fixed as were William 
 Strasmore's, and he claimed to love her. What 
 should she do ? Must she go through life in 
 this lonely way or could she be happier aa
 
 358 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 George Hammond's wife ? She was not indiffer- 
 ent to the fact that in the stormy trials to which 
 she was exposed, she needed a strong arm on 
 which to lean, a loving heart in which to confide. 
 Her life's sad experience had taught her the 
 comfort of these. She was not in a hurry to 
 reply, and for a long time reflected on the start- 
 ling question. At last she said : 
 
 "George Hammond, you know full well that 
 my affections lie buried in the grave. I loved 
 William Strasmore as I can never love another ; 
 you are worthy to be any woman's husband. I 
 can love you and shall in time come to do so. 
 I can make you an affectionate wife. " 
 
 He drew her to his breast, which was hence- 
 forth to be her place of refuge. 
 
 "Poor, patient, storm-tossed soul," George 
 murmured, "this even is more joy than I ever 
 dared to hope." 
 
 "Though the bitter past is too deeply im- 
 pressed on our hearts to be effaced, " said Pauline, 
 "we will try and live in the joy and hope of the 
 future." 
 
 Plans for the future were laid that very day. 
 Six months later George was to return and claim 
 his bride. On the morrow he bade adieu to the 
 one whom he had so long loved in secret and 
 set out to join those sisters whom he had not 
 seen for years.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 359 
 
 Early one bright morning Lillie Hammond 
 rose from the breakfast table and asked her elder 
 sister : 
 
 "Deena, what do you want me to do to- 
 day ?" 
 
 "Go to the post-office is about all, I guess," 
 Deena replied. "It is time I should have a letter 
 from Pauline." 
 
 A moment later the merry, fun-loving Lillie 
 had donned hat and gloves and left the little 
 cottage. Girls do not usually belong to that 
 class or family of beings called solitary. You 
 seldom ever know a girl to go down town, or 
 out shopping alone if she has a girl friend of her 
 own age near who is able to go with her. We 
 usually see girls going in pairs or little groups, 
 and they are certainly happier, brighter and 
 prettier by being together. It was just as natu- 
 ral for Lillie to call on her friend, Ida, to go with 
 her to the post-office, even though it would have 
 been nearer to have gone direct, as it was for Ida 
 to set aside all manner of excuse and delay and 
 get ready to go with her. 
 
 "I guess there will not be a large mail for us," 
 said Lillie, as they tripped along the sidewalk to 
 the post-office. ' 'Deena has but one correspon- 
 dent and I have none." 
 
 "I don't think you can say that much longer," 
 returned Ida, with a laugh. "I wouldn't be sur- 
 prised if there were a letter there for you this 
 morning."
 
 360 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 "From whom ?" 
 
 "Mr. Day." 
 
 "No, there wont. I know he won't write to 
 me." 
 
 "How you do talk ! What makes you think 
 he will not?" 
 
 "He never asked me if he could." 
 
 They had now reached the post-office and the 
 postmaster handed out two letters for Deena. 
 Lillie experienced a peculiar sensation as she 
 glanced at the superscription on one envelope. 
 Surely that handwriting was familiar, yet whose 
 could it be ? She trembled and almost wished 
 that Ida were not with her. 
 
 ' 'Deena has but one correspondent, you said, ' ' 
 remarked Ida, as they left the post-office. ' 'One 
 of these letters is from her, and the other is 
 from Mark Day. He has written to Deena and 
 asked her if he might correspond with you." 
 Lillie assured her it was not from Mark, and she 
 felt not a little relieved when Ida stopped at 
 her own gate, saying: "If you are not here 
 by two o'clock in the afternoon I will come after 
 you." 
 
 Lillie promised that she would be promptly 
 on hand and then hurried home. She called 
 Deena, who was in the kitchen, and handing her 
 the letters, said : 
 
 "One of those letters is in a strange hand. I 
 seem to have seen it before, but I cannot saj 
 whose it is."
 
 THE WORST FOE. 361 
 
 Deena took the letter, broke the seal and 
 squeezing the edges of the envelope together 
 inserted the thumb and finger of her right hand 
 into it and drew forth the folded letter, which she 
 spread out before her. She glanced at it a moment, 
 devouring its contents, while a strange joyous 
 light illumined her face. Then she held out the 
 
 o 
 
 letter to Lillie, saying : 
 
 "Oh ! Lillie Lillie, brother George is alive!" 
 
 With trembling hand and tear-dimmed eyes, 
 Lillie took the letter and read it through. 
 Ernest's death-bed confessions and sufferings 
 strangely affected Deena. Although he had 
 "been the evil genius of the Hammond family 
 she freely forgave him. The letter was re-read 
 and commented on by the sisters. The other 
 letter was from Pauline and corroborated what 
 George had written. 
 
 Arthur Templeton received a letter from Mark 
 which he read to his mother and they held a 
 long consultation together. The letter had told 
 all, and Mrs. Templeton knew that Deena would 
 shrink from making the revelation herself, but 
 would feel relieved to know it had been made. 
 Next day Mrs. Templeton, with her benevo- 
 lent face wreathed with smiles, called on the 
 sisters. Deena was alone and as soon as her 
 visitor was seated, the kind old lady began : 
 
 "I have heard all about it. Arthur got a let- 
 ter from Mark Day last night, which told all
 
 362 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 about your brother coming back like one from 
 the dead. Mark explained everything, dear, and 
 relieved you of the task." 
 
 Deena, with a sigh of relief, answered : 
 ' 'I have been thinking, Mrs. Templeton, howl 
 should account to- you for the deception " 
 
 " 'Oh, no, no, never mind that," interrupted 
 the kind old lady, in time to prevent Deena from 
 breaking down. "Of course, deception is wrong, 
 but there are many mitigating circumstances in 
 your case. But you did the best you could, and 
 no one can really blame you. You prevented 
 his getting a divorce and wrecking the happi- 
 ness of some other girl." 
 
 % ^c Hi sjc % % % 
 
 Another week has passed and again it is a 
 brilliant morning. Lillie is hastening about the 
 room in a state of excitement, while Deena sits 
 by the window, her face aglow with expectation. 
 The mail hack comes toward the house and stops 
 at the gate. Deena arose, paused for a single 
 moment trembling with agitation, and started to- 
 ward the door, when George bounded into the 
 room and caught his eldest sister in his arms : 
 
 "Deena!" 
 
 "George!" was all that was spoken until 
 Lillie said : 
 
 "Brother, have you forgotten me?" 
 
 "Can this be our sister, Lillie?" he asked,, 
 holding her back and looking at her.
 
 THE WORST FOE. 363 
 
 "I have good reason to believe it is," she an- 
 swered. 
 
 ' 'You look more like our mother than either 
 of us, and are as mischievous as ever," said 
 George, leading them both to the sofa. 
 
 The past, present and future were all discussed 
 in a hurried manner, and then carefully gone over 
 in detail. 
 
 "George, can you forgive me for my decep- 
 tion ?" asked Deena, after they had gone over 
 the sad story of her marriage with Ernest Day. 
 
 "You were first to forgive, and I would be 
 worse than a sinner not to forgive you. Why 
 did you not tell me that Ernest accused me of 
 forgery ?" 
 
 "I believed it, George. Strong drink so 
 changes the disposition of men, that I knew not 
 what you might have done when crazed and 
 fired to madness with whiskey. It made of 
 Ernest Day a demon. I would not believe him 
 when he told me, until he brought another to 
 confirm his story." 
 
 "What strong drink made of Ernest Day, and 
 the end to which moderate dram-drinking brought 
 him, should be a warning to all moderate 
 drinkers. He completely deceived me. In the 
 name of Dr. Denesmore he wrote me first of 
 mother's and father's death, and afterwards of 
 your deaths from typhoid fever. Then in 
 the name of Strasmore, in a hand and style en-
 
 364 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 tirely different, he wrote, offering me Christian 
 consolation in bereavement. But it is all past. 
 Light has dawned and your days of toil and sor- 
 row are over. I have a pleasant home for both 
 of you in San Francisco." 
 
 Lillie, with a mischievous look at her sister, 
 said: 
 
 "I expect she won't go at all. Her engage- 
 ments will keep her here for some time yet and 
 then well a word to the wise is sufficient. " 
 
 George smiling, asked : 
 
 "Will you come, Lillie, and live in my new 
 home on the western sea?" 
 
 "Oh, if you can get no one else to look after 
 your dinner and darn your socks I will try it. 
 But I suspect you will soon be looking up a 
 Mrs. George Hammond to relieve me, and 
 then my time will be divided between the two 
 places." 
 
 "If that is your wish it can be gratified," said 
 <jeorge Hammond. 
 
 "Who is it, brother we will love her for your 
 sake," said Deena. 
 
 "You already love her for her own sake, her 
 name is Pauline Denesmore. " 
 
 "Oh, George, is it true?" cried Deena, clap- 
 ping her hands for joy. "I do love Pauline and 
 always have. She has been more than a sister 
 tome." 
 
 "I know I shall like her, but I don't remena-
 
 THE WORST FOE. 365 
 
 her much about her. I may stay with you more 
 than with Deena if Mr. Templeton should grow 
 to be cross in his old days," said Lillie. 
 
 "You may have a home of your own," said' 
 George, with a smile. ' 'I am satisfied you will 
 see Mark Day before many days have passed. 
 He is a good fellow, and I took a brother's priv- 
 ilege to give him permission to write to you. I 
 think if you will call at the post-office you will 
 find a letter awaiting you from Mark, and he may 
 say something nice in it." 
 
 George was correct. That evening Mrs. 
 Templeton and her son called, and George and 
 Arthur soon became fast friends. Lillie was 
 sitting between her sister and Mrs. Templeton 
 and recurring to her cherished ambition, said 
 mischievously : 
 
 "I believe I am too comfortable to write a 
 book. I'll leave that to such tempest-tossed 
 souls as authors must be, or they could not enter 
 into the woes and sorrows of their characters." 
 Mrs. Templeton smiled and nodded her head in 
 silence, while Deena gravely responded : 
 
 "A very wise conclusion, Lillie."
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE WEDDING, 
 
 "He led her blushing like the morn ; all Heavea 
 And happy constellations on that hour 
 Shed their selected influence ! 
 
 TITHE next few months was a busy period for 
 -* Mark Day. It was desirable that Ernest's 
 estate be settled as speedily and with as little ex- 
 pense as possible. Mark was the administrator, 
 which was a new care on him, in addition to at- 
 tending to his own affairs. The wise men of 
 Staunton noted his movements, and said one to 
 another, that he bid fair to exceed even his 
 shrewd father as a business man, and had in 
 addition, honesty and integrity, with no bad 
 habits. He was soon classed among the best 
 men of the city. He had gained what he had 
 struggled for from boyhood a name for truth, 
 honesty and ability, and stood on the threshold 
 of prosperity. He was young and vigorous, with 
 an abundance of ambition, and a prosperous life 
 seemed in store for him. 
 
 Mark purchased the Denesmore place which he 
 offered to his brother's widow, but Deena wanted 
 
 366
 
 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 no property in Staunton. Maria did not care to 
 have so much money invested in real estate, but 
 Mark said that the old place should not go out 
 of the family, and kept it himself. Once more 
 the hall echoed with busy workmen refitting and 
 furnishing the house. Mark was in haste to have 
 all this completed before Pauline's marriage, as 
 he wanted that event celebrated in her old 
 home. 
 
 George in the far west meanwhile, was pre- 
 paring for the same event, trying to make a home 
 as attractive as the one Pauline had been accus 
 tomed to from childhood. Deena and Lillie 
 were looking forward to the coming event with 
 no little degree of pleasure, while Arthur and 
 his mother shared the happiness. Lillie sat in 
 the background when Mr. Templeton was 
 present, and was entertained rather than the 
 entertainer. She noticed a marked change in 
 both, and declared that Deena was becoming 
 a girl again, and that no one could call Arthur 
 awkward. 
 
 Pauline, Mark and Maria were at last estab- 
 lished in the Denesmore house. Faithful Mandy 
 and Henry held their old positions. Henry's 
 assistant was Jefferson Lea Scott. Aunt Dinah 
 had retired from active service except on special 
 occasions. The coming event was to be an extra 
 occasion, so her services would be required. 
 George Hammond came from the West to claim
 
 368 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 his bride. Deena and Lillie accompanied him. 
 
 The wedding morn came bright, rosy and 
 blushing as the bride herself. All nature seemed 
 decked in her gayest apparel as if to celebrate 
 the occasion. Pauline did not attire herself in 
 white satin and orange blossoms, as she had once 
 expected to appear. The day for having only 
 joy in her heart was past, but the sad, thought- 
 ful looking bride was as dear to George Ham- 
 mond as if she had been as fresh with youth as 
 a maid of sixteen. The church was crowded to 
 overflowing. The clergyman who had known 
 both Pauline and George from childhood 
 officiated. The warmest and most heartfelt 
 congratulations were showered on the newly 
 married couple. As the wilted flower lifts its 
 head on receiving the nourishment of the gentle 
 dew, so the human heart bowed down with toil, 
 care and disappointment, is lifted up by words of 
 encouragement. After so many years of sorrow 
 to find old friends once more congratulating her. 
 seemed to Pauline too much bliss for this life. 
 Would it last, would peace remain unbroken, 
 or was it only a lull before the storm ? The un- 
 happy reflections were scattered to the winds by 
 the recollection that : "He giveth his beloved 
 rest." 
 
 A wedding feast was prepared at the old 
 Denesmore house, and after the guests dispersed 
 the family had a few hours to themselves. Dur-
 
 THE WORST FOE. 369 
 
 ing the conversation that followed, Arthur 
 Templeton said his mother knew beyond a 
 doubt that Mrs. Annie Strasmore was her hus- 
 band's niece. Mr. Templeton, sr., had a brother 
 who had but one daughter. The record of her 
 birth was still in grandfather Templeton's regis- 
 ter, which was in her possession. Mrs. Temple- 
 ton took it on herself to explain : 
 
 "Arthur's father moved west when only a boy. 
 There was only about eight years difference 
 between his and Annie's ages. Mr. Templeton 
 neglected to keep his brother informed of 
 his whereabouts, and they finally lost track of 
 each other entirely. I have written to Mr. 
 Strasmore and he is satisfied that his wife Annie 
 Templeton was none other than John Temple- 
 ton's child." 
 
 "Truth is stranger than fiction," said Mark 
 with strange solemnity. "When we review the 
 lives of the Strasmores, Denesmores and Ham- 
 monds, we must acknowledge that to be true. 
 We have all been tried in the fire. But remem- 
 ber that all is well that ends well. We are all 
 safe .from that enemy which once put out the 
 light in this home, for we know how subtle 
 and dangerous a foe it is." 
 
 When Mark permitted Maria to live in his 
 house, it was with the distinct understanding that 
 she should give up her wines and strengthening 
 cordials, or patent medicines, which were only 
 
 (24)
 
 37O THE WORST FOE. 
 
 alcohol in disguise. Maria gave consent, and 
 took up her abode with her brother, who 
 was very kind to the unfortunate woman. She 
 had lost much of her pride and hauteur, and her 
 very selfishness and love of ease made her hum- 
 ble and submissive. Mark loved little Pauline 
 and the child returned his affection. She was 
 very different from her mother, having less 
 selfishness and more strong common sense. 
 
 The hardest task Pauline had in leaving hef 
 old home was separating from her little name- 
 sake. When the child clung to her neck and 
 begged her as only a child can not to go, 
 Pauline's tears mingled with hers. The promise 
 of toys and presents would not buy her off, and 
 it was only by a strategem that Mark finally 
 succeeded in pacifying her. 
 
 Mark accompanied Pauline and George to the 
 depot and bade them adieu as they boarded 
 the train. Pauline had so long been a sister to 
 him that it was hard to give her up. The old 
 place would be lonely without her, but he had 
 little Pauline, whose sweet prattle would in a 
 measure comfort him until Lillie came to preside 
 over his household.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVL 
 
 WEDDING BELLS. 
 
 "Ring out, ye crystal spheres, 
 Once bless our human ears 
 And let your silver chime 
 Move in melodious time." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 T7IFTEEN months have gone by. Deena and 
 * Arthur have been married six months, and are 
 as happy as the memories of the past will allow 
 them to be. We are now on the eve of another 
 event. One event follows so rapidly on the 
 steps of another that we can only gaze and 
 wonder. 
 
 There is quite a gathering at Arthur Temple- 
 ton's home. George and Pauline are there look- 
 ing contented and happy. Deena is not like 
 the sad-faced woman whom we first saw at 
 Joe Hammond's. Arthur Templeton is devoting 
 his time to the entertainment of his guests. Ida 
 and Fred came at an early hour with presents 
 and flowers. 
 
 "These are for Lillie," she said as she placed 
 several lillies of the valley, orange blossoms and 
 
 371
 
 3/2 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 roses in Lillie's room. "I have been saving 
 them for weeks for this occasion." 
 
 Lillie is all blushes and smiles. It is the eve 
 of her wedding. In a few hours she will leave 
 all these dear faces to enter on the voyage of life 
 as Mark's wife. There is happiness inexpressi- 
 ble in the thought that she is to wed the man 
 of her choice ; yet she can but feel sad when 
 she remembers that she is soon to be separated 
 from those scenes and faces which had long 
 been so dear to her. 
 
 Though Deena Templeton rejoices in her sis- 
 ter's happiness, yet she is downcast and melan- 
 choly when she reflects that her sister is soon to 
 leave and live so far away from her. Though 
 she could scarcely restrain her tears, she deter- 
 mined to continue cheerful and hopeful while 
 in her sister's presence. They purposely avoided 
 meeting each other's eyes, lest they should 
 break down and mar the pleasure of the 
 occasion. 
 ####*###* 
 
 My work is nearly done. I sit now alone with 
 this child of my brain. When I contemplate the 
 stru ggle s . trials and temptations to which oui 
 noblest and best are subjected I am appalled. 
 The current of my thoughts turns to that wee 
 laddie in the cradle yonder, who will by and by 
 call me aunt. When I hear his baby accents 
 or see him clapping his hands with delight,
 
 THE WORST FOE. 373 
 
 I ask myself what is before this precious child. 
 All too soon he will lay aside his baby clothes 
 and ways and become a boy. He must have a 
 boy's liberty, for if it is not given him, he will 
 take it. I want him to grow to be a wise and 
 good man, and he is certainly a child of promise. 
 Only a short distance down this very street there 
 is not a school-house, church, or even a place of 
 innocent amusement, but a dram-shop. When 
 he becomes a boy he will be told that this is a 
 dangerous place for boys, and be forbidden to 
 enter it. But boys love danger and forbidden 
 fruit always looks tempting. He will in all prob- 
 ability at some time venture slyly to creep into 
 that den, to see if it is really the abode of mon- 
 sters. Punishment may follow, but that will only 
 rouse his rebellious spirit. His mother's tears 
 may be regarded as only the emotion of a silly 
 woman. Soon he will be at man's estate, and 
 then no one can prevent his entering the estab- 
 lishment he was in childhood forbidden to visit. 
 He may come to think that it hastens his man- 
 hood to become early a frequenter of that saloon, 
 I tremble now for his future. 
 
 What are we going to do about it ? Work 
 for prohibition. But prohibition will never be 
 practicable, many say. Of course, it will not, 
 if you do not love your boys, your country or 
 homes. Our forefathers gained for us our in- 
 dependence, the curse of slavery was swept from
 
 374 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 our fair land, and now, are you going to let a 
 curse equally as great and degrading exist ? Will 
 you run the risk of that child of yours coming 
 under the bondage of rum, under the blind belief 
 that prohibition is not practicable ? Cast aside 
 that thought which has brought only woe and 
 misery to our country! Set to work to save the 
 boys and redeem the men. 
 
 Again I pause, rest my head in my hand, slow- 
 ly close my eyes, and baby Charley's sweet face 
 comes again before me. His face appears often- 
 est to me, because he is nearest my heart. 
 Every boy that I ever knew is dimly outlined 
 in my mind. I get up and kneel at the cradle, 
 beside the placid sleeper, and gaze lovingly upon 
 his innocent face. My heart sends up a prayer, 
 "God save the boys," but Charley stands in the 
 front. My tears of anxiety bathe his head, 
 when I think that his father is no better tham 
 was John Denesmore, nor is he more promising 
 than Guy Denesmore was in his childhood 
 How can we save the boys? 
 
 Is prohibition practicable ? If not, how can we 
 make it practicable ? Just give the liquor traffic 
 the merit it deserves. Class it with robbery and 
 murder, and make it so disreputable that no man 
 can openly carry on the business and be regard- 
 ed a good citizen. This crime will then, like all 
 others, be driven into dark channels where it will 
 not be so liable to corrupt the entire youth of
 
 THE WORST FOE. 375 
 
 tfie land. Many units make a mighty number. 
 Those who take the stand for temperance are not 
 alone. The mountains of difficulty are full of 
 the horsemen and chariots of the Lord. There 
 are many already in the field, nobly fighting for 
 the cause of the right, and combating humanity's 
 worst foe. Help correct society and spend not 
 these golden moments in abusing the saloon- 
 keeper. Redeem him with the rest of humanity, 
 if he will persist in violating the law after the 
 traffic has been made unlawful, then deal with 
 him as you would with any other violator of law. 
 
 Again at my table, I close my eyes and men- 
 tally I seem to review these pages. The door 
 opens, some one has entered the room and leans 
 over me. How my heart beats, who is it ? I 
 open my eyes, and lo, Pauline's sweet, yet ten- 
 derly sad face, and eyes that shine with the light 
 of an inward peace, look down upon me. Scarce 
 knowing what I am speaking, I say : 
 
 "I dared not open my eyes when you first 
 entered. I did not know, but you were a liquor 
 demon come to carry me off. " 
 
 She looked very gravely at me and said : 
 
 "You have written these pages, attempting 
 to picture the miseries caused by TJte Worst 
 Foe and now you are afraid that the thing 
 is coming to carry you off." Smiling at the 
 thought, she continued: "You are shrinking 
 from your duty."
 
 376 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 " You know, my dear, about what I am writ 
 ing; none better than you. " 
 
 " Yes, " she replied, "we should be zealous 
 in this work, remembering that hearts are not 
 crushed with the fall of this monster. Noble 
 ambitions are not cast to the dust by the over- 
 throw of king alcohol. Instead, broken hearts 
 are bound up and noble ambitions gratified." 
 
 Slowly she turned the pages, reading a bit 
 here and there. Tears were in her eyes as she 
 bent over and kissed me on the forehead, say- 
 ing : "God bless your efforts, dear sister, for this 
 noble cause. Do you hear the bells ? They are 
 golden bells. It is Lillie's and Mark's wedding 
 day. I must away." 
 
 She is gone, and still the chime of those sweet 
 bells is ringing in my ears.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 "The King's a beggar, now the play is done 
 All is well ended, if this suit be won, 
 That you express content, which we will pay, 
 With strife to please you, day exceeding day. 
 Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts ; 
 Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 "INDULGE us, kind reader, a few moments 
 ! longer before we lay down our pen. Great 
 reforms are usually of slow growth. The leader 
 of any reformation is branded a lunatic, an- 
 enthusiast, a fanatic. Luther perhaps was abused 
 more in his time than any other man. The mov- 
 ers in the old abolition movement have been 
 branded with every abusive name and epithet 
 that could be applied to them. The very 
 men who abused them most are now loudest in 
 their praise. The fanatic has been changed to 
 the martyr. The time will come, and thank 
 Heaven, it is not far distant, when this prohibi- 
 tion question will sweep the country like a wild 
 fire. Then the honest and brave, who, amid 
 sneers and scoffs, have steadily fought the mons- 
 
 877
 
 3/8 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 ter, will be called martyrs instead of fools and 
 lunatics. The leaders will live in sculptured bust 
 or finely chiseled marble, long after their bodies 
 have mouldered in the grave. They may never 
 live to hear their own praises sung by mortal 
 tongues, but in that Heaven to which all the 
 righteous are wending their way, they will find 
 their rich reward. 
 
 We cannot conclude until we have briefly 
 traced the career of some of those humble 
 characters, with whom we have in the course of 
 our story come in contact. The reader has 
 not forgotten the little band of boys organ- 
 ized by William Strasmore. They were in 
 the humbler walks of life and every one had 
 suffered directly or indirectly from the influence 
 of alcohol. The resolve made at the grave 
 of their murdered friend was strictly kept. For 
 the sake of their dead benefactor and by the 
 blood he had shed, they vowed eternal enmity to 
 the poison. This vow was kept. Not only 
 did they abstain from the use of alcoholic bever- 
 ages themselves, but did all in their power to 
 overthrow the monster. Theirs, from the mo- 
 ment the earth closed over William Strasmore, 
 became an aggressive warfare. For months and 
 years all seemed dark and discouraging. Thick, 
 heavy clouds obscured the temperance horizon, 
 and the feeble voices of a few who were nobly 
 battling for humanity could not be heard amid 
 the shouts of the exultant liquor men.
 
 THE WORST EOE. 3/9 
 
 But they despaired not. Bill Barnes, as we 
 have seen in a former chapter, started a temper- 
 ance reform by providing cold water fountains 
 in the cities for thirsty, famishing mortals. Bill 
 studied law and was admitted to practice. 
 He rose rapidly in his profession and from a 
 gutter-snipe he became a dignified professional 
 gentleman. His friend, George Greene, became 
 a minister of the gospel. Henry Jones, too, 
 arose to be an intelligent and useful citizen, pledg- 
 ed to a deathless war on the drinking usages of 
 Society. These three friends, under that strange 
 providence that shapes the destinies of men, be- 
 came most influential workers for the temperance 
 cause in the great state of Iowa. Thus, William 
 Strasmore, though dead, yet speaks to millions 
 by means of their successful efforts through the 
 press and on pulpit and platform. 
 
 Each became an orator, for his heart was in 
 the work. Judge Elshea, who had for years 
 been playing hot and cold on the subject of 
 temperance, at one time taking one side and 
 next day an opposite view, was not slow to 
 denounce them as fanatics, and declare pro- 
 hibition impracticable. Bill Barnes, who was 
 forced to practice before the judge, was snubbed 
 by his honor for his temperance proclivities, and 
 the court, when off the bench, took care to 
 declare, when opportunity offered itself, that 
 Mr. Barnes was a fool and unworthy the confi-
 
 380 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 dence of any man having causes to litigate. 
 Though he temporarily injured Barnes, it was 
 the upbuilding of him in the end. Judge Elshea 
 and his friends, in their zeal to punish Barnes, 
 went so far as to make him popular by their 
 persecutions. 
 
 "William," said George Greene to Mr. Barnes 
 one day when they were together in the latter' s 
 office, "what can be done in the way of putting 
 an end to this unholy liquor traffic." 
 
 "There is to be an election of members of the 
 State Legislature this fall, is there not ?" said Mr. 
 Barnes. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 ' 'Then, let us make Prohibition our battle cry 
 and begin the fight to win." 
 
 "What shall we do?" 
 
 "Elect Prohibition members to the legislature 
 and force a vote to the submission of the ques- 
 tion." 
 
 '"The idea is a good one." 
 
 ' 'Remember Strasmore, George, and our vow 
 at his grave. Let it nerve us for the conflict and 
 we will be sure to win. " 
 
 "Whom will we nominate from this county?" 
 
 "One of our own little band, who twelve years 
 ago stood about the grave of Strasmore and 
 promised Heaven never to forget his death, 
 I mean Henry Jones." 
 
 "A capital idea. But even if we carry thir
 
 THE WORST FOE, 381 
 
 county, it will only be a drop in a bucket com- 
 pared to the great State." 
 
 "We will carry the State. Each of us must 
 turn orator and sweep the country over. You 
 and I will stump the State, and let Henry take 
 care of his own county." 
 
 The campaign that followed is a matter of 
 history. Not only Iowa, but other States gave 
 their attention to its progress. Wherever they 
 went, those two orators drew thousands of 
 hearers and followers. The liquor men cursed 
 them, and tried to refute their arguments, but 
 it was all in vain. They were overwhelmed by 
 the band of William Strasmore and the scores 
 of others who joined them. They called other 
 friends, who had belonged to their boy organ- 
 ization to help them, and soon they became 
 known far and near as the "Strasmore Legion. " 
 The cause of Prohibition grew so rapidly that 
 the liquor men for once were cowed, and the 
 temperance movement triumphed in the State. 
 The liquor men now sought by cunning to gain 
 what they had lost at the ballot. Judges Elshea, 
 and Wiley, and Walcutt, and others of their 
 kind, who tried to play at temperance, were con- 
 sulted by the liquor men. They shook their 
 heads knowingly and declared that the whole 
 thing was unconstitutional, and Allen O'Dema- 
 gogue joined loudly in the cry. The first test 
 case was before the honorable Judge Elshea,and
 
 382 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 he, elevating his feet to the desk in front of him, 
 clasped his hands behind his head, and listened 
 long and attentively to the argument on the con- 
 stitutionality of the liquor law, by the whiskey 
 attorney. Though the Judge had made up his 
 mind before the case was argued, he tried to 
 appear very impartial, with a strong desire to 
 help the Prohibitionists if he could. There 
 were a few Prohibition votes which he might 
 want to re-elect him. Judge Elshea had always 
 occupied such a high position in society that no 
 one had ever yet dared to attack him openly. 
 So adroitly had his honor managed affairs that 
 he was thought by some to really sympathize 
 with Prohibition. Yet, when the case was 
 argued, he declared the precedents so strong, 
 that he must decide the law unconstitutional. 
 The case was appealed to the Supreme Court, 
 and there the decision was affirmed. 
 
 "Well, what shall we do now," asked Rev. 
 George Greene. "It would seem that we 
 have had our work for nothing." 
 
 "No, we have not," Bill Barnes answered, 
 "we have only taken one step. Perhaps the 
 other step should have been taken first. Now 
 we must set to work to elect Prohibition judges. " 
 
 "A good idea." 
 
 It was only a year until the next election. Judge 
 Elshea was a candidate for re-election, and he 
 soon found that many of his temperance frie*ds
 
 THE WORST FOE. 38$ 
 
 were about to desert him. In vain he strove to 
 show them that he was forced to make his ruling 
 according to law. They began to understand 
 the Judge and his law. 
 
 The name of William Barnes was proposed in 
 the convention held by the Prohibitionists, as a 
 candidate for Judge of the Circuit. The name 
 was received with thunders of applause, and the 
 nomination made unanimous. Judge Elshea 
 was at first inclined to treat his opponent with 
 contempt, but ere long he learned that he was 
 no mean antagonist. Taking the stump, he 
 denounced the judge so boldly and openly that 
 some of Mr. Barnes' friends trembled for his 
 safety. Such courage had never been exhibited 
 before, and all were astonished and appalled. 
 The result of the election was that William 
 Barnes was elected to fill the place Judge Elshea 
 had disgraced. With Henry Jones in the legis- 
 lature, Bill Barnes on the bench, and George 
 Greene in the pulpit, who can say that William 
 Strasmore's work was not bearing fruit. 
 
 Not only did the temperance people elect 
 Prohibition judges for the lower courts, but even 
 the Supreme Court was made up of Prohibition 
 members. Almost the first case which came 
 before Judge Barnes was a liquor case. The old 
 ruse of non-constitutionality of the law was 
 raised. The court room was crowded and the 
 scene became thrilling. Liquor men with
 
 384 THE WORST FOE. 
 
 haggard faces, and temperance men with anxious 
 looks, were elbowing each other, watching the 
 countenance of the young Judge. His features 
 were immovable as his purpose, and he gave his 
 opinion in a clear, distinct voice. Whiskey men 
 retired muttering curses low, but deep, and the 
 better class of citizens secretly rejoiced. Rev. 
 Mr. Greene went home, retired to his closet, and 
 offered up a prayer of thanksgiving. 
 
 The liquor men had one hope left, and that 
 was chat they might appeal the case to the 
 Supreme Court, and have it reversed, but the 
 Supreme Court was changed, and not so '' 'techni- 
 cal " as the former court. Judge Barnes' opinion 
 was re-affirmed, and the whiskey men gnashed 
 their teeth. Slowly, yet surely, the cause of Pro- 
 hibition had gained ground. The old era is 
 passing away, and on the dawn of a new century, 
 great things may be expected. 
 
 And now, dear reader, I must bid you fare- 
 well. Think not that I have drawn on my imag- 
 ination for the facts of this tale. They who 
 suffered and are gone, once lived before my eyes. 
 Pauline and George, Mark and Lillie, Maria and 
 baby Pauline, and the deeply wronged Deena, 
 are happy now in their security from the clutches 
 of "The Worst Foe," who, like the devil-fish, 
 blackens all waters to escape with his prey. The 
 Strasmore Legion still bears on the banners of 
 prohibition. But the years are coming rapidly,
 
 THE WORST FOE. 385 
 
 when through struggle the victory shall dawn, 
 and the grander Banner of the Prince of Peace 
 float over every land. Yet ere that time, the 
 separate rivers of our lives may have glided on 
 and on, and their tiny ripple on stormy roar be 
 lost in that silent ocean that rolls around all the 
 world.
 
 il\iifkor5. 
 
 (i)\)Q undersianed make a PEGIALTY 
 
 4 
 
 of manufacturing books for WUTH0RS. 
 (1)1} is gives tl?e author all ~\\)e profits t[?ere 
 
 r I 
 
 may be in it, instead of tf?e mere pittance 
 of a royalty, olutbors will do well to com- 
 municate witb us. 
 
 \v. G. ^JifelB^i) & G;O., 
 
 AUTHOR'S PUBLISHERS, 
 
 COLUMBUS, OHIO.
 
 A 000 086 266 4