MINNIE HERMON, 
 
 RUMSELLER'S DAUGHTER; 
 
 OB, 
 
 WO MAN 
 
 EN THE 
 
 TEMPERANCE REFORM. 
 
 Qt t&ale for tl)* QTime0. 
 
 BY 
 
 THURLOW WEED BROWN. 
 
 PUBLISHED BT 
 
 FLINT & COMPANY, 
 
 SOUTH SEVENTH STREET, PHILADELPHIA, PA.; 176 WEST FOCB.TH 
 STREET, CINCINNATI, OHIO; 420 MAIN STREET, 
 SPRINGFIELD, MASS.; 60 MAIN STBEET, 
 ALLIANCE, OHIO.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1874, by 
 
 H. 8. GOODSPBED, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, 
 D. C.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 A. MARKED CHARACTER INTRODUCED TO THE READM, 31 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE MANUSCRIPT, ,,38 
 
 CHAPTER lEL 
 MINNIE HEUMOW, . 50 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 A NEW PROJECT, 58 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 THE SPELL BROKEN EVIL COUNSELS PREVAIL, 68 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 THE " HOME " A WRONG REGULATED, . 74 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 DEATH IN THE ATTIC, 88 
 
 CHAPTER VHi. 
 A WEDDING AT THE COTTAGE ONLY ONE GLASS M . . . 94 
 
 20647G6
 
 yi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 FIRST'FBOITS, 110 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TlIE AUTHOR TALKS A LAPSE OF TEN YEARS IN OUR HlSTORT - - 
 
 THE CHANGE, 121 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 A WINTER SCENE, . 135 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 THREE MEETINGS, AND WHAT WAS SAID A PRAYER ANSWERED, . 145 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 MABEL DUNHAM, 159 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 GOING FROM HOME, 167 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 UNMOORED FROM THE HEARTH, 175 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 THE STRANGER IN THE TARPAULIN, ......... 180 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 THE TRIAL, 186 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 THB GALLOWS CHEATED OF A PREY THE PEOPLE OF *. SIGHT, 201! 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 THE WATT FAMILY, 2i
 
 CONTENTS. Vll 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 "MORAL SUASION," 221 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 A BEACON ON THE WASTE 233 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL i 
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN, 244 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 MGUT IN A DARK PLACE, 265 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 WASHINGTONIANISM THE OLD MAN'S STOST, .,,... 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXY. 
 HIGH LIFE, 305 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 CLEAN TICKETS STICKING TO PARTY, 319 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIL 
 
 POISON IN THE CUP SIGNATURE OF THE DEAD A GTTEST NOT IN- 
 VITED, 353 
 
 CHAPTER XXVHL 
 Two MORNING CALLS A LIVE MAN FOR A DEAD ONK, .... 870- 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 THE "WICKED BLOT THE WICKED TRIUMPH, ...... 388 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 ANOTHER VICTIM IN THE NET THE WICKED STILL TRIUMPH, . . 896
 
 Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXL 
 THE SECBET Our A FATAL WAGER, 408 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIL 
 A G ROUTING OF SCENES, 433 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 A STAB IN THE EAST THE PLAGUE STATED, ...... 444 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 Two RESCUES, 473 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 IN "WHICH THE READER WILL FIND SOME OLD ACQUAINT- 
 ANCES, AND LEAIJN WHAT BECAME OF THEM, ..... 494 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE JOT OF DOING GOOD MINNIE AND WALTER BECOME INTER- 
 ESTED IN THE GOOD TEMPLAR MOVEMENT- WALTER MADE 
 GRAND WORTHY TEMPLAR .... 511 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVH. 
 
 TWENTY YEARS LATER. REMOVAL OF MINNIE AND WALTER 
 TO OHIO THE PREVALENCE OF INTEMPERANCE THERE 
 THE WOMEN'S CRUSADE IDA'S LETTER TO CARRIE 
 HUDSON, . ' 518
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 OUR Preface, reader, shall have the merit of brevity, and 
 shall detain you but a moment. 
 
 You -will bear in mind that every chapter in the book is 
 drawn from life, with the necessary change of names and 
 dates the only difficulty having been in selecting from the 
 mass of materials collected during an active participation in 
 the Temperance Reform. Those living who have a vivid re- 
 membrance of the scenes herein detailed, will appreciate our 
 object in sketching them. 
 
 The history of the " Watt Family " was written with a 
 throbbing nib, and its truth sealed with the endorsement of 
 a scalding tear. 
 
 If our record shall arouse a single heart to a more in- 
 veterate hatred against the Great Wrong, our object will 
 have been accomplished. 
 
 Pass on.
 
 MOTHER STEWART. THE LEADER OF THE "WOMEN'S MOVEMENT."
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 FOE forty days and forty nights the rain poured 
 down from the open windows of the heavens, until 
 the flood covered the earth, and the sun, after the 
 storm, smiled down upon the watery waste, where 
 a world lay entombed. Solitary and alone, without 
 helm, mast, or sail, like a speck on the world-wide 
 ocean, floated the ark with its freight. The olive 
 branch, borne upon a weary but glad wing, proclaimed 
 the subsiding of the deluge. The sunbeams kissed 
 the vapors as they rolled up from the retiring waters, 
 and the bow of promise lifted its arch into the 
 clouds. 
 
 Noah went out and planted a vineyard. He par- 
 took of its fruits, and lay in his tent in the slumbers 
 of drunkenness. The frailties of a good man are 
 used to justify the drinking usages of to-day. The 
 scourge of a world passed away, had commenced its 
 progress again in the new. From that vineyard the 
 tide has swept on, gathering in depth and power, 
 until the debris of human ruin has been left on 
 every shore where human foot has trodden. Stream 
 has mingled with stream, and wave followed wave, 
 
 (xiii)
 
 XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 until every land and people have been scourged. In 
 the hamlet, the city, the country, or wilderness, the 
 influence has been the same. Nations have been 
 drunken to madness. New woes and keener sor- 
 rows have been sent out to stalk through the world, 
 followed by red-handed crime and ghastly death. 
 Beneath those oblivious waves, the brightest hopes 
 of earth and heaven have gone down ; and up and 
 down the world the stricken millions have wasted 
 away, and prematurely mingled with a mother dust. 
 North, east, south and west, the plague has spread. 
 The white sails of commerce have borne it across 
 oceans. The pioneer has carried it across the wilder- 
 ness. The trader has scaled the mountain range, 
 and thus, in civilized and savage clime, the noon-day 
 scourge has sped on in its mission of ruin. In the 
 hut of the savage, or where science, letters and art 
 have elevated and refined, the effects have been the 
 same. The very heart of human society has been 
 poisoned, until along every artery of health and 
 strength, the hot currents have swept in their blight- 
 ing power. The shadow has fallen across nearly 
 every hearth-side, and at the altar's base ; and lingered 
 there like the foot-prints of unutterable woe. Most 
 every house has had one dead in it every circle has 
 been broken. Homes are ruined and deserted, and. 
 fields turned to waste. The wife and the children 
 are driven out from the home-roof, and to-day the 
 mothers of America, like Niobe of old, as they 
 weep at their broken altars, are attempting to shield
 
 XNTKODTJCTION". XV 
 
 their offspring from the shafts which fall thickly 
 around, and quiver in the tender hearts they love. 
 It is Intemperance that we speak of ; the history of 
 whose desolations has outstripped the wildest imagery 
 of tragic fiction, and laughed to scorn the efforts of 
 the tongue, pen or pencil. If hell has one more 
 potent enginery of human degradation and crime 
 upon earth than another, it is Intemperance. Its 
 very sound sends a thrill back to the heart, and a 
 Gorgon monster slowly rises up from its heart of 
 'ilood among, the graves. 
 
 The gloomy night of Intemperance long rested 
 upon the world, and no day-star in the horizon. The 
 death slumber was deep and profound. Like the 
 fabled city which was petrified into stone, no trumpet 
 blast rang out to awaken to life. Woe and want went 
 band in hand. Vice and violence stalked unobstruct- 
 ed, and crime laughed and reeled in its drunkenness 
 of blood. Alone in the sky, the malign light of the 
 death-beacon followed man from the cradle to the 
 grave. The monster sat at every gathering. At 
 the birth, marriage, or death ; in the home, shop, or 
 field ; at the social re-union, or the festive day in 
 hut, palace, or council-hall, it plied its work. The 
 fair young bride stood at the altar in the light of her 
 bright life-dream, and handed the goblet to him she 
 had chosen to accompany in the pilgrimage of life. 
 At the social board, the father followed the mar- 
 riage prayer with a glass. In the silence of the 
 night, where the living had just passed to the rest
 
 XVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of death, the decanter kept its watch with the watch- 
 ers. What wonder, then, that Intemperance, like 
 the red ploughshare of ruin, went under almost 
 every hearth ! 
 
 A missionary once found a heathen mother in 
 tears. She wrung her hands as she left her hot 
 kissses upon the lips of a beautiful child, calm in the 
 slumbers of death. The little treasure had been bit- 
 ten by a serpent. The woman was one of the ser- 
 pent-worshippers, and the reptile, which had robbed 
 her of her first and only child, lay coiled at the 
 hearth-side of the home it had made desolate, safe 
 from the avenging hand of the superstitious mother. 
 She would not destroy it. Need we wonder .at the 
 superstition of the benighted heathen ! To-day, 
 America is a nation of serpent worshippers. We 
 look around us, and how many homes are there where 
 the serpent is coiled, yet madly cherished by those 
 who have mourned the loved and the good, poisoned 
 to death by its fangs ! And at the same tune we sco 
 a great and free people hesitating about crushing 
 these serpents ! The darker rites and fearful religion 
 of the poor Pagan can but share our sympathies. 
 
 We are proud of our country and its institutions. 
 There is no land like our land ; no people like our 
 people ; no lakes like our lakes; no streams like our 
 streams ; no prairies like our" prairies, or mountains 
 like our mountains, as they sit upon a continent and 
 nod to each other in the clouds. American enter- 
 prise and American genius, inventive and literary, is
 
 INTRODUCTION. XV11 
 
 startling a world from its slumbers. The heart of 
 our republic throbs up< n two shores ; and jet, at the 
 heart of all our free institutions a cancer is tugging 
 with never-resting energy. For its removal, Chris- 
 tians and philanthropists are marshaling. 
 
 It is but little over half a century since a land so 
 favored groaned in bondage unbroken. ~No light had 
 broke in ; no star had beamed out to guide our wise 
 men to a Saviour. Humanity wept over the desola- 
 tions. Patriotism saw its first stars pale and set in 
 darkness. Religion saw its most gifted ones fall to 
 rise no more. The strongest were in shackles, and 
 ',he friend of his country and of man looked out 
 eadly upon the scene, and saw no morning light in 
 the dark night. Foreigners stigmatized us as a nation 
 of drunkards. Thus, unobstructed, the work went 
 on. The great deep of popular opinion had not been 
 stirred by a single breath, but lay in its stillness until 
 miasma had bred in its sluggish bosom, and rolled up 
 to sicken and destroy. The thunder of popular will 
 slumbered uninvoked in the ballot-box, or, like the 
 three-mouthed dog of hell, sleeplessly guarded the 
 wrongs, there entrenched. A scourge was abroad in 
 the land, yet a free and Christian people slept over 
 their wrongs, and yielded without an effort to the 
 annual conscription of Intemperance. 
 
 But a better era wSs to dawn upon our country. 
 A brazen serpent was lifted. The trumpet-blasts of 
 Temperance Reformers started the petrified cities 
 into life. The plume tossed in the conflict, the war-
 
 XV111 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 horse plunged and chafed, and in the light of the 
 coming morning the Banner of Temperance rolled 
 out like a beacon of hope and promise to gladden a 
 world. A breath has swept the valley of Hinnom, 
 and the sleepers arise. The ocean is swept by the 
 storm, and hope springs up in the human heart. The 
 light comes slowly, but it bears healing upon its 
 wings, and heralds redemption to a rum-scourged 
 world. There is joy in heaven and upon earth. The 
 mother weeps tears of joy, and clasps her child to her 
 bosom, with a prayer of gratitude for the promise 
 which speaks of a better day for her and hers. And 
 BO the great moral revolution has commenced a war 
 of extermination, ending only when the rum traffic 
 shall exist no longer. A free people are girding for 
 the conflict with a hoary curse, saying to its armies, 
 as they wage the strife from pillar to pillar " Thus 
 far, and no farther." 
 
 The history of the Temperance Reformation is 
 not yet written. The strife is yet in progress. But 
 that history will occupy the brightest pages of our 
 country's annals, and command the admiration of the 
 world. We look back with a full heart and kindling 
 eye upon that history. There is a moral sublimity 
 and beauty in the record. It is like the beaming of 
 the setting sunlight across the ocean. Storms may 
 have swept the surface, and its waves dashed angrily 
 upon the shore ; but in its calm there is a wake of crim- 
 son and gold a beautiful pathway, where angels iniglit 
 tread. The course of our reform has been marked
 
 INTRODUCTION. XIX 
 
 oy the most important results. It lias carried bless- 
 ings to myriads of hearts and homes. There is an 
 angel in its waters, and peace, happiness and hope 
 spring up where desolation has withered up the 
 greenness of earth. It is destined to revolutionize 
 the sentiment of a world. It enlists all that is lovely 
 and noble in the human heart the eloquence of 
 poetry, and the inspiration of genius ; the fervor of 
 patriotism, and the zeal of religion. Its principles 
 are as plain to the mind as the sun at mid-day, and 
 as just as God. It is the gospel of redemption to a 
 rum-cursed world the John the Baptist of the Chris- 
 tian religion. Like the Christian religion, its fruits 
 bear full evidence of its blessed character. "When 
 John heralded the coming of the Saviour, he did not 
 startle the world by the brilliancy of his promises. 
 He did not announce that Christ was coming with a 
 crown of gold upon his head and a monarch's sceptre 
 in his hand, with legions of conquering warriors 
 bristling in armor, and in his train the kings and 
 princes the rich and powerful, and elite of earth. 
 No : the dumb should speak, the deaf should hear, 
 the blind see, the lame walk, the dead be raised, and 
 the gospel be preached to the poor. And thus along 
 the pathway of Christianity, wherever its spirit has 
 gained a foothold, there are eloquent records of its 
 principles and influences. So with the Temperance 
 Reform. The heralds did not announce that the 
 fashionable and the wealthy, the titled great, the 
 moneyed aristocracy of the land, would exclusively
 
 XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 lend it their countenance. But the blind have seen 
 the deaf have heard, the stone has been rolled awaj 
 from the grave of drunkenness, and the lost restored : 
 devils have been cast out of those cut among th 
 tombs, and its gospel has been preached to the poor 
 The reform was designed by a kind God to lift up 
 and restore poor fallen humanity, and not to add 
 brilliancy to fashion, or popularity to men. The prodi 
 gals, who have wasted all in riotous living and'hun 
 gered for the husks, have turned back from their dark 
 wanderings, and the temperance cause has met them 
 half-way, and rejoiced that the lost were found. The 
 so-called fashionable have murmured, and turned 
 away with scorn from such manifestations. They 
 would so have scorned the meek Saviour, because he 
 called after the sinner, and wept with and comforted 
 the poor and afflicted. 
 
 The hand of Providence has marked the course of 
 our cause. Step by step, it has moved onward, ever 
 going deeper into the hearts and consciences of men. 
 It has had its reverses, as has every great moral 
 revolution which has agitated the world ; but its first 
 standard, " torn but flying," floats out prouder to- 
 day than ever before. 'There is a hydra influence 
 against it one sleepless and gigantic. But ours is 
 the majority, for God is with us. At times it has 
 been beaten its waves haye rolled back and again 
 mingled with their kindred waters ; but they have re- 
 turned to the shock with other waves and deeper 
 flow, sweeping on with the strength and grandeur of
 
 INTRODUCTION'. XXI 
 
 its power. Wealth has opposed it, fashion has 
 sneered at it, interest has fought it, demagogues 
 have stabbed it, and Iscariots have betrayed and sold 
 it; but, like the oak matured in the storm, it has 
 taken root, until its towering trunk sways defiance 
 to the fiercest wrath of the tempest. And it will 
 live, and flourish, and gloriously triumph. 
 
 The blessings of the Temperance Reform are 
 sufficient to reward for an age of effort. One home 
 made joyous one broken heart healed and made 
 happy one man restored to manhood, family, so- 
 ciety, and God is a prouder and more enduring 
 monument than ever towered in marble. What a 
 change it has wrought in public sentiment ! Look 
 back and many of us can remember it to the 
 time when tippling was interwoven with every cus- 
 tom of society, and infancy sucked drunkenness 
 from the mother's breast. We know that intemper- 
 ance yet sits like a nightmare upon the bosom of so- 
 ciety; but there are millions of homes, and fields, 
 and systems from which it has been forever banished. 
 Where is now the physician that prescribes rum to 
 the mother, or a mother who swallows such prescrip- 
 tions, or feeds them to the child? Where is the 
 family table where the morning bitters sit with the 
 food which gives life and strength ? Where is the 
 mechanic who carries it to his shop ? The farmer 
 who furnishes it to his laborers in the field? The 
 marriage where the health and happiness of the 
 bride must be given in wine ? The funeral where it
 
 XX11 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 must mingle with the tears of the bereaved ? They 
 are scarce. A blessed light has dawned upon com- 
 munity, and it is found that man can be born, mar- 
 r/.ed, and die without the spirit of alcohol. 
 
 In the progress of the reform, nearer and still 
 nearer to the enemy, the ground has been broken. 
 The first position was not the one of to-day. The 
 old pledge was the entering wedge, but it did . not 
 banish the insidious tempter from our own rSnks. 
 It coiled still in the wine-cup, and in the more com- 
 mon alcoholic beverages. Experience demonstrated 
 the folly of chaining the mad dog, and the total ab- 
 stinence pledge was adopted. Then came a war 
 among temperance men, but the right triumphed ; 
 for, it was found that the old pledge was a danger- 
 ous ground for drinking men. Then came the 
 Washingtonian movement, like a storm, and its floods 
 swept on with startling intensity and power. There 
 are ten thousand trophies where it moved ; but the 
 force of the torrent long since spent itself. The 
 flames have died out upon its altars, as a general 
 thing, and its legions disbanded, or enlisted in new 
 organizations. 
 
 In the commencement of our reform, and for a 
 number of years, the mass of its friends considered 
 " moral suasion " as the only means of success. It 
 would have accomplished its work, were all men 
 susceptible to moral influences. But it would not 
 answer the ends designed. While human nature is 
 such as to require penal laws in the restraint and
 
 DfTRODTJCTION. XX111 
 
 punishment of its excesses, moral influences will 
 never keep man from the commission of wrong. 
 God's government is not based upon moral suasion 
 ftlone. His laws are prohibitory, as are the laws 
 upon our statute books. And against all this array 
 of enactments, human and divine, wicked men con- 
 tinue to trample upon the rights of others. If laws 
 will not prevent the commission of wrong, who 
 wouH expect moral influences alone to protect the 
 interests of society from the vicious and abandoned ? 
 And more especially would it fall far short of accom- 
 plishing such an object, when coming in contact with 
 evils sustained and guarded l>y legislation. Seldom, 
 while avarice has a home in the human heart, can 
 bad men be influenced, by moral considerations, to 
 abandon a traffic which law tolerates, and protects, 
 and clothes with respectability. With a license law 
 existing and shielding the seller from punishment, 
 how long before he could be prevailed upon to 
 abandon a lucrative business ? In most instances 
 tune might end and find the trafiic in its full strength, 
 and those engaged in it as indifferent to our en- 
 treaties and appeals, as they are to-day. 
 
 It was thought that the fountain must be dried 
 the Upas uprooted and destroyed forever. Hence 
 the idea of prohibition and protection. And this 
 sentiment found a response in the hearts of the 
 friends of the cause, enthusiastic and unanimous. 
 Here was the great battle-ground, and around this 
 banner the contending interests rallied. Eloquence
 
 XXIV INTBODUCTTOK-. 
 
 had been spent in vain, heretofore, so far as having 
 any effect upon those engaged in the traffic. God's 
 truth had thundered against them. Facts had been 
 t>iled on facts, until they towered in fearful judg- 
 ment against them. Arguments unanswerable had 
 been adduced, and appeals of the most earnest and 
 touching pathos been made. All had been in vain. 
 Entrenched behind law, and flanked by the unscru- 
 pulous demagogism of the country, they looked 
 unmoved upon the ruin wrought by their own hands, 
 and laughed all our efforts to scorn. A new system 
 of warfare must be adopted, or the strife would be 
 for time. *As in times past, so Providence, at this 
 juncture, directed the movements. Then appeared a 
 light in the east, and clear and startling above the 
 din of the strife, came a new battle-cry, thrilling like 
 an electric shock, and everywhere arousing our 
 wearied hosts. A new banner out, and its magic 
 words filled all hearts with zeal, faith and hope. 
 " The Maine Law " was an emblem of triumph. It 
 was thought to be the mystic writing upon the wall, 
 announcing the downfall of the Babylon whose ini- 
 quities had so long cursed the earth, and the politi- 
 cal Belshazzars already looked upon the record of 
 sure-coming doom, and trembled. The new plan was 
 as simple as potent. .It embodied, in a stringent 
 form, the principles of prohibition and protection. 
 Like all other laws for the prevention of crime, it 
 struck at the cause, leaving the streams to dry up, 
 when no longer fed by the fountain. It dispensed 
 with arguments and appeals. It left no dripping
 
 rNTKODUCTION". XXV 
 
 heads to multiply others, but attacked the hydra in 
 his den, and with the hot irons of fine and imprison- 
 ment, seared as it went. From various causes the 
 MAINE LAW failed to accomplish the grand results 
 hoped for it, by those who fought under the banner. 
 Still, much good was done, and the last great day 
 shall marshal an army, saved from the power of the 
 second death, as one of the benefits of the Maine 
 Law agitation. 
 
 Again the banner of the Temperance Reformation 
 is flung to the breeze. Before the emblem of joy 
 was seen in the East. Now it unfurls its folds over 
 the valleys of the great West, and, from present ap- 
 pearances, the " movement " will go on till the broad 
 Union is made to feel its power. Grand results have 
 already been accomplished. Many desolate homes 
 have been made happy. Every day the telegraph 
 brings us news of victory. May " God defend the 
 right " in the battle. 
 
 In what is called the " Woman's Movement," the 
 method of procedure is for women to meet early in 
 the morning in one of the churches, hold a prayer and 
 singing meeting for an hour or so, and then start 
 forth in bands of ten or twenty, visiting the various 
 saloons and drug stores where liquor is sold, present- 
 ing a form of pledge to cease retailing liquors, with 
 a request to sign and stop selling liquor. If they 
 comply, the ladies pass on to another ; but if they 
 are met with a refusal, then they exhort, persuade, 
 hold a prayer-meeting, sing a hymn, etc., and pass
 
 XXVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 on, promising to " call again." Sometl mes the pray- 
 er-meetings continue for hours with fervent petition, 
 earnest entreaty, and persistent pleading. This is 
 repeated every day till the dealers are subdued. Day 
 after day, in winter's cold and sleet, these meetings 
 are continued, until very many towns are redeemed 
 from the sale of liquor. 
 
 Yarious instrumentalities have operated in bring- 
 ing the Temperance Reform up to its present com- 
 manding position. Able men have written and 
 spoken, and from the rostrum and the pulpit public 
 opinion has been educated. But the great engine 
 has been the Press. This giant friend of man in a 
 free country, has scattered its light, its facts, argu- 
 ments and appeals, into millions of hearts and homes. 
 It has invoked a storm slowly, but none the less 
 effectually. The mutterings of years past are deep- 
 ening into startling peals, and the red language of 
 popular indignation and wrath glows ominously 
 bright across the sky. The deep of public opinion 
 is rocking to its depths. 
 
 The Temperance Press, at first struggling with 
 almost overwhelming difficulties, has slowly increased 
 in ability and power, and to-day exerts a controling 
 influence upon public sentiment. The literature of 
 our reform is assuming a more refined and elevated 
 character, and clothing great truths in pure and more 
 attractive garb ; and never was there a wider field for 
 the exercise of intellectual effort. The wildest dreams 
 of fiction seem tame in comparison with the stern
 
 IXTRODTJCTIOK. XXV11 
 
 and sober realities of our cause. Tragedies, more 
 fearfully dark and startling than Avon's bard ever 
 sketched, are thickly traced on the record of rum's 
 history. Scenes which would mock the artist's pen- 
 cil are of daily occurrence. The desolate home, with 
 its heart-broken wife and mother, with her pale cheek 
 channeled with tears of unutterable woe, as she 
 bends weeping over the drunken wreck of her youth's 
 idol ; the child-group shivering in the blast or cling- 
 ing to that mother, as they moan for bread; the 
 orphan turned out, with no friend but God, into the 
 wide world ; youth wrecked and palsied with prema- 
 ture age ; manhood reeling amid the ruins of mind 
 and moral beauty, the sepulchre of a thousand hopes ; 
 genius driveling in idiocy and crumbling into ruin ; 
 the virtuous and noble-minded turning away from 
 truth and honor, and plunging into every vice ; the 
 parent and citizen wandering away from a home- 
 heaven, through a devious and dark pilgrimage, to a 
 dishonored grave ; the home-idol shivered and broken, 
 the altar cast down, and an Eden transformed into a 
 hell; childhood and innocence thrust out from the 
 love-light of a mother's eye, to wallow in all that is 
 low and vile ; Poverty and Want looking with pinch- 
 ed and piteous gaze upon the scanty tribute of charity ; 
 foul and festering Yice, with sickly and bloated fea- 
 tures, leering and droolling in licentious beastiality ; 
 Madness, with fiery eye and haggard mien, weeping 
 and wailing and cursing in the rayless night of intel- 
 lectual chaos ; Crime, with its infernal "ha! ha!" as
 
 XXV111 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 it stalks forth from its work of death, with its red 
 hand dripping with the hot and smoking life-tide of 
 its victim ; these, and ten thousand other combina- 
 tions of warp and woof, are woven into tales of won- 
 drous intensity and power. The hovel, the dram- 
 shop, the subterranean den, and the mansion of fash- 
 ion and wealth, have all furnished the material for 
 tales of startling interest. "When fiction even has 
 called up its weird creations, they have been but 
 copies of the facts already transpired. The moral is 
 always there. Thus poetry and romance have com 
 bined to place the realities of two opposing principles 
 in striking contrast. Such is the object of the fol- 
 lowing tale, from the perusal of which we will nc 
 longer detain the kind reader. That the " new move 
 ment " may triumph, and the dark shadow of Intern 
 perance pass away, is the earnest prayer of him whe 
 has thus far claimed attention. The door is open, 
 and the reader 2an go in and examine the structure 
 of the author's fabric at leisure.
 
 LADIES IN THE "WOMEN'S MOVEMENT."
 
 MINNIE SERMON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A MARKED CHARACTER INTRODUCED TO THE READER. 
 
 ON one of the coolest days of the autumn of 18 , 
 by invitation, we visited, for the purpose of lecturing, 
 one of the pleasantest villages in southern New-York. 
 
 The SUD was far down in an unclouded sky, its 
 beams mellowing in the blue haze which curtained 
 the distant hills, and lingering like a smile from blisa 
 upon the variegated woodlands. 
 
 "Without seeking the friend who had invited us to 
 enjoy his hospitality, we passed through the village, 
 and turned from the highway into the fields, and up- 
 ward to where a picturesque eminence promised a 
 more attractive view of the autumn scene. The 
 paths and the hollows were filled with the rustling 
 leaves, the faded garniture of summer and yet a 
 more beautiful carpeting than art ever wove. From 
 beneath a leaning maple, we turned to gaze long 
 upon the landscape stretched beneath us. The woods 
 upon the hills were draped in that gorgeous beauty
 
 32 MINNIE HEEUON. 
 
 of the American autumn, a sea of rustling waves 
 crested with golden and crimson foam, flecked here 
 and there with the dark hue of the evergreens. The 
 symmetrical forms of the maple and the walnut dotted 
 the farm lauds of the husbandman with pyramids of 
 russet and flame-like canvass. 
 
 The Susquehanna wound through the valley and 
 away to the south, glowing and shimmering in the 
 Bunbeams. We turned away from that which had 
 yielded us so much pleasure, and still further abdve 
 us saw a stranger, evidently enjoying the same pros- 
 pect. His tall form stood out in striking relief from 
 its background of distant sky, his attitude and mien 
 graceful and imposing, as with head bared and hat in 
 hand, he stood with folded arms, looking down upon 
 the valley. As we stepped out from under the low- 
 hanging branches, the rustling leaves attracted his 
 attention. He returned our salutation with a manner 
 so easy and dignified, that we at once recognized one 
 of more than ordinary mind and polish. The true 
 gentleman never forgets his position under any cir- 
 cumstances, much less in recognizing and returning 
 the courtesies of a stranger. 
 
 Passing the village grave-yard, where the white 
 slabs gleamed in the setting sun, we noticed seven 
 highly finished ones standing closely together, and 
 the same name chiseled upon all. The grass towered 
 raukly upon the mounds, and the mould had long 
 gathered at the base of the marble. The mounds 
 were of the same length, thickly strewn with the
 
 A MAKKED CHABACTEE. 33 
 
 leaves of the willow which dropped its boughs until 
 they nearly swept the ground. As we emerged from 
 the lane leading to the Iririal grounds, we again en- 
 countered the tall stranger of the hillside, leaning 
 with a sad and thoughtful countenance over the fence 
 near where we had stood by the seven graves. 
 
 The afternoon following, while standing upon the 
 church steps with a friend, awaiting the gathering of 
 the people, a note was slipped into our hand by a 
 friend. It read thus : 
 
 " We are not used to harsh language here yet ; be 
 guarded. Hon. Mr. Fenton will hear you. He is a 
 citizen of talent and influence, and we wish to have 
 him in our Division ; but he is a drinking man, owns 
 the tavern, and is extremely sensitive. Touch him 
 gently. A FKIEND." 
 
 And so the Hon. Mr. Fenton, and a rumseller, 
 \vould hear us. And must we hesitate in laying bare 
 the iniquities of the traffic, because a gentleman of 
 wealth, .talent and standing was engaged in it ? 
 Thrusting the note into our pocket, we determined to 
 take our own course appeal kindly to men, but 
 boldly and truthfully speak of the wrong. 
 
 A sea of heads was before us, curiosity drawing 
 many to attend the long talked 6f demonstration. 
 Conspicuous in the centre of the audience, his keen 
 grey eye scanning the speaker with a stern and steady 
 gaze, sat our tall acquaintance. "That," whispered
 
 34 MINNIE 
 
 a clergyman at our side, "is the lion. MY. Fenton. 
 If you are severe, he will answer you." "We were 
 satisfied from whence the note of advice. 
 
 Carelessly we commenced our remarks upon the 
 prevalence and universal spread of intemperance. 
 Quick answering tears, frbm a sad looking woman on 
 the first seat, responded to the truth of the remarks 
 made, and filled our own heart with tears. "Warming 
 as the interest increased, we continued : " In the 
 mild sunlight of this blessed day, we look over your 
 heads and out through the raised windows, where 
 your kindred are at rest upon the kind bosom of our 
 common mother. "We know not the history of this 
 community, but the destroyer has been among you. 
 Undisturbed by our voice, the sleepers are resting 
 on where the rank grass weaves its mat over their 
 graves. Wherever the living carry their dead the 
 cold arms of earth have been rudely opened to wrap 
 the victims of the scourge. Innocence, manhood and 
 old age; the strong, the beautiful, the loved, and 
 the true, have alike been consigned to premature 
 graves. How cruel the blows which crushed from 
 their hearts, life and its throbbing hopes ! The kind 
 marble heralds not their sad histories ; but garnered 
 in kindred hearts, are the memories of wrongs which 
 ever ask a tribute of bitter tears, as the living stand 
 by their graves. *IIave no circles been broken in this 
 community ? Ilave no loved ones been torn away 
 from hearts which dripped tear-drops of blood, to go 
 down in darkness to their graves? And no bright
 
 A. MARKED CHARACTER. 35 
 
 resurrection morn to burst upon then iong night of 
 sleep ? Who of you have friends in that old yard, 
 whom you feel were wrenched away from heart and 
 home by torturing inches, and worse than murdered? 
 Is there a parent an old mother a broken-hearted 
 wife a sister of never swerving love a child who 
 has no parent but God who does not go in there to 
 weep over a grave where Hope never smiles and 
 Faith never whispers " All is well ? " Make our heart 
 a store-house of the dark records of your history, and 
 from this desk we will tread the grass-grown alleys, and 
 here and there lay our hands upon cold and silent wit- 
 nesses, proclaiming in the sad eloquence of enduring 
 marble, the triumphs of the common scourge. Here is 
 one, and there another ! But for rum, they might have 
 sat at your hearths this day. And who slew them ? 
 Is there no hand here among you red with a brother's 
 blood ? Loo"k ! and if so, turn away to a better, life, 
 and yield no more incense to the shrine of blood ! " 
 
 The " Hon. Mr. Fenton " sat with his eye upon us 
 as we proceeded, his chin resting upon his palm as he 
 leaned upon the pew before him. A lone tear slowly 
 gathered on the lid, and coursing down his cheek, 
 dropped upon the open hand. As our introduction 
 ended, he involuntarily raised his head and looked 
 upon his hand, as though blood had gathered there in 
 judgment against him, then bowing himself upon his 
 hands, he remained until the meeting was dismissed. 
 
 As we passed down the desk, Mr. Fenton came 
 boldly forward and stood at the door. The audience
 
 36 WINNIE HERMON. 
 
 were instantly hushed, expecting a war of words be- 
 tween him and the stranger. Reaching out, he clasped 
 our extended hand in both of his, and stood, with 
 swimming eyes, silently before us. We knew there 
 would be no strife between us, for a better manhood 
 gave utterance in the eye, and his grasp was almost 
 convulsive in its energy. 
 
 " You are an honest man ! " passionately exclaimed 
 Mr. Fenton. " You have uttered the truth solemn, 
 fearful truth. My hands are red with more than a 
 brother's blood. God forgive me ! Let me tell you 
 where they sleep, those / have loved and lost ! " 
 
 Mr. Fenton took our arm within his own, and to- 
 gether we passed into the yard just back of the church. 
 He passed by the seven graves, and silently looked 
 down upon them, while his broad chest heaved with 
 strong emotion. 
 
 " There" said he, with wild energy, " there they 
 are all all! There are my father and mother; 
 the one died a drunkard and the other broken-hearted. 
 In the next four graves are my my boys. Brave, 
 noble boys they were, too, as ever parent loved. In 
 their strong manhood, they too, died drunkards! 
 And here merciful God ! at my feet, is"my injured, 
 my murdered wife ! " and kneeling like a child, and 
 throwing his strong arms over the grave, he wept as a 
 child would weep. " O ! if God can forgive, may 
 the last of a once happy band be gathered with thee 
 at last; and the hand which wrought thy ruin bo 
 washed with pardon of its cruel crime. O, what a
 
 A MARKED CHARACTER. 37 
 
 fearful infatuation has rested upon ine," he continued, 
 as he raised himself from his kneeling posture. " I 
 see it all now. Here by the graves of my kindred 
 my all, before you, sir, and these people, my injured 
 wife in Heaven, and God, I solemnly swear that this 
 hand never shall again extend the ruinous cup to my 
 fellow man. My life shall be spent, so far as it is 
 possible, in undoing the wrong I have committed." 
 
 In the clear air of that bright autumn afternoon, a 
 shout, free and full with gladness, went up from the 
 people in testimony of the high resolve. Bonfires 
 were kindled in the evening, and joy beamed upon 
 each countenance, lit up by the glare with greater in- 
 tensity, as the blue flame of the burning liquors burst 
 up and wreathed and hissed with the red ones of the 
 burning timbers. 
 
 " And so may my soul burn in hell, if I ever har- 
 bor the cursed poison again ! " Startled by the fierce 
 energy of the speaker, we turned, to find Mr. Fenton 
 looking upon the scene with a pale and compressed 
 lip.
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE MANUSCRIPT. 
 
 OUK host was early astir, every move character- 
 ized by a new and more hopeful life. Before we had 
 arisen, all the machinery of drinking had been re- 
 moved from the bar, and citizens were already gath- 
 ered on the piazza, in earnest conversation upon the 
 events of the previous day. 
 
 Mr. Fenton persisted in accompanying us across 
 the river, talking sadly of the past and hopefully of 
 the future. " At parting, he laid a heavy roll of pa> 
 pers in our hands, with a rapid history of their con- 
 tents and of the manner in \thich they came into hia 
 possession. A friend of his, in early life, became in 
 temperate, through the plotting of a villain ; and in 
 one of his fits of madness, turned his family from the 
 door, and under charge of murder, was confined in 
 prison, awaiting his trial. He was tried and con- 
 demned, but escaped before the day of execution. 
 This manuscript, the labor of long days of imprison- 
 ment, was handed me under seal, while in the place, 
 with the simple injunction that, should the writer 
 never be heard of again, his friend should make such 
 use of it as he saw fit. You," said Mr. Fenton, 
 "know much of the history of intemperance and its
 
 WALTER'S MOTHER.
 
 T1IE MAKUSCKI1T. 41 
 
 terrible ruin ; but yet, the within may furnish you with 
 something equally as interesting as that you have 
 already learned. You will find the impress of no or- 
 dinary mind, and its publication, in whole or in part, 
 may interest others as well as yourself." 
 
 The writing was more in the style of a private 
 diary than otherwise. We shall give, in the course 
 of our history, the substance of the matter, occasion- 
 ally transcribing whole chapters as we find them 
 written. 
 
 " OLD MEMORIES. 
 
 " The ocean of life may present a calm, unbroken 
 surface to the eye the very picture of repose ; while 
 beneath the dark and turbid currents are surging to 
 and fro, black and angry, as they toss and leap 
 against one another. 
 
 " The sky may smile without a cloud, as its blue 
 depths are bathed in a flood of sunshine ; and yet the 
 lightning be heating its red bolts, and the storm 
 troops marshaling for the onset. 
 
 " The human countenance may be as calm as that 
 ocean, while bitter waters are welling up in the heart, 
 as bright with sunshine as that sky unclouded, and yet 
 the fierce tempest be sweeping across the soul, or the 
 echoes of Sorrow's wail lingering amid the ruins of 
 hopes which have been destroyed. The wildest im- 
 agery of fiction is more than surpassed by the reali- 
 ties of the l fitful fever ' which we treat so lightly, 
 and yet so madly cling to at its ending.
 
 42 MINNIE HEEMOX. 
 
 " While carelessly touching my guitar, the fingers 
 unconsciously swept the strings to the measure of an 
 old and sacred air, holy with the inseparable associa- 
 tions of scenes that never die ! That touch was like 
 the gush of long pent-up waters, and the flood of other 
 days is again rushing through the soul, a mingled tide 
 of sweet and bitter currents, now bathed with sun- 
 light, and again dark with gloom. 
 
 " I drop the guitar and gaze long and dreamily 
 into the fire, watching the vision of years as they 
 troop by. I arn young again ! Ah ! but 't was a 
 dream, for the growl of my dog has dispelled the illu- 
 sion, and I awake to find a tear on my lids, from 
 which bright beams of silver are dancing to the wa- 
 ning embers in the grate. That tear has escaped 
 from a sacred fount, sealed long and long ago. 
 
 " I touch the strings again. The thoughts flow calm- 
 er, and a strong impulse urges me to write. And 
 why should I profane the sanctuary where early hopes 
 and dreams are buried ? Some will sneer at the rev- 
 elation. And yet to see the words as they are traced 
 upon the sheet, will be like looking on the faces of 
 those long since at rest. There is no one here to see 
 me if I weep ; and these weather-beaten cheeks will 
 welcome a shower from the heart's flood, which has 
 been so unexpectedly stirred to its earlier depths. 
 
 "My manhood's hopes have gone out in darkest 
 night, and infamy rests upon the once proud and untar- 
 nished name of Walter Brayton. An evil destiny has 
 followed me and I am now incarcerated in a dungeon,
 
 THE MANUSCRIPT. 43 
 
 through the success of as foul a plot as human fiends 
 ever conceived, to accomplish another's ruin. The 
 world cares not for -one whose career has ended so 
 ignominiously, and it may never see my name vindi- 
 cated from the stigma which now so unjustly rests 
 upon it. The fickle populace has forgot its idol, and 
 none but her whom I have most deeply injured stands 
 by my side, while all else has been beaten down by 
 the storm which has come upon me. She clings to 
 me with a devotion which no destiny, however dark, 
 can wrench away. A ' life history ' may never be 
 seen by other eyes than my own, if ever completed ; 
 but the long days will speed on lighter wing, even, 
 while I am tracing dark chapters in my cell. My 
 crushed manhood's tears shall attest the truth of what 
 I shall write, eloquent, it may be, in warning to who- 
 ever may trace these lines, to shun a course which 
 has so trodden down as proud a spirit and aspiring 
 ambition as ever throbbed in the bosom of early 
 manhood. 
 
 " When eighteen years of age, my father removed 
 from New Jersey, to a small and retired country 
 settlement in one of the northern counties of New- 
 York. He had once been a merchant of business and 
 standing had mingled in the highest commercial 
 circles, and I never could divine the reason t f his lo- 
 cating in such a section of the country. 
 
 " There are faint remembrances of my early home. 
 There is a vague, shadowy outline of a dark old 
 dwelling, now lingering in my mind. All is dim.
 
 4:4: MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 misty, uncertain. I can hardly trace those outlines at 
 this late day, for the foot-prints of years have gone 
 over them. The impressions seem half dreams and 
 half realities. The remembrance is gloomy, withal, 
 and as I wander back, I shrink involuntarily at the 
 spectral shadows which people and throng around 
 that dream-land tenement. 
 
 " There was an old room, with high, sombre walls, 
 and deep windows, over which hung rich, heavy cur- 
 tains, nearly shutting out the light of day. Dark, 
 massive chairs and sofas stood against the walls. And 
 I remember that I dreaded the mirror which gave 
 back the spectral outlines of the old nurse, and step- 
 ped back with a noiseless tread to the half-opened 
 door. Once I looked out of those windows only 
 once. As I parted the faded curtains, the net-work 
 of cobwebs brought down a cloud of the black, 
 and ugly looking creatures, and drove me away in a 
 fright. 
 
 " Bat there was one room which I remember with 
 more dread than I do the old parlor. It was across 
 the hall, and I never saw the light of day break in 
 upon its darkness but once. I was a child, and 
 through the open door crept in and across to tho 
 window. I then clambered upon the sill, and with 
 childish curiosity, pulled aside the curtains. Oh, 
 what a flood of warm, pure sunshine gushed into the 
 dark place ; I remember it distinctly, and how red 
 and beautiful the sun itself appeared just above the 
 sea of roofs ! I clapped rny tiny hands and shouted
 
 THE MANUSCRIPT. 45 
 
 with glee, upon which the old nurse stole up behind 
 me, and bore me away to the kitchen. 
 
 " I can remember but one more visit to that room. 
 Everything wore a mysterious and saddened aspect. 
 People trod lightly over the floor, and spoke in 
 whispers. I watched all with sobered interest. At 
 last an old lady friend took me in her arms and car- 
 ried me in. A lamp burned dimly in the gloom, 
 and the old clock ticked with painful distinctness in 
 the hushed apartment. 
 
 " The nurse then raised me up, and held me where I 
 could look upon the bed. As I looked down with a 
 shrinking fear, I beheld a pale, calm face, the eyes 
 closed as if in slumber, but oh, how still ! A dread 
 crept over me the first startling knowledge of death. 
 The nurse laid my hand upon the cheek 'twas cold 
 how cold ! and as that strange chill crept back to 
 my child-heart, I wept. I felt that something sad 
 and sorrowful had taken place ; that some one whom 
 I loved had gone some friend and the* young heart 
 welled up its flood of unchecked grief. ... A 
 mother had gone to her rest ! 
 
 " I remember but one place with pleasure in that old 
 dwelling. It was where the sun shone brightly, and 
 the vines crept thickly over the lattice- work. As I 
 look back upon that obscure mirror of childhood, I 
 see a happy throng, and merry sport they had. But 
 the most hallowed dream of all, is that of a sad, kind 
 face, which hung over me and touched mine so ten- 
 derly. I ~know that she had a low, silvery voice, for
 
 4:6 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 it fell soothingly upon my childish fears and pains, 
 and its tender echoes have never died away in my 
 heart. I have heard no such tones since, save as they 
 
 float up and linger on the tide of memory. The 
 
 voice of a MOTHER speaks in those echoes ! 
 
 " But how my pen has wandered under the influence 
 of these old memories ! Ah, well ! I have not talked 
 of these things before in long years, and my old heart 
 yearns for sympathy. 
 
 "After our settlement in the new home, I became a 
 tall, thoughtful boy. Care had written deep lines 
 upon my father's face, and he said but little. Grief, 
 too, had furrowed his features deeply, and a silvery 
 white was fast mingling with his locks of jet black. 
 But he was cold, stern, passionless, unchanging. 
 
 " I never saw my father manifest the least emotion 
 but once. As I entered the parlor one morning, he 
 was standing before a portrait that I had loved from 
 my childhood. My step aroused him, and as he 
 turned, I saw a tear upon either cheek. lie passed 
 out of the room, and I took his place before the pic- 
 ture, and stood looking dreamily until my own cheeks 
 
 were wet with tears. 1 wept before the shadow 
 
 of a substance which had forever passed away. 
 
 " Bitter knowledge came to me as I arrived at young 
 manhood. My father had been a drunkard ; rny 
 mother had been ill-treated by the husband of her 
 youth, and had died broken-hearted. My love for her 
 intensified as I learned the painful history, and I 
 looked still more fondly upon that picture in the par-
 
 THE MANUSCRIPT. 4 
 
 lor, and thought that, had I been a man while she 
 was living, I could have been her protector. 
 
 " It was by accident that I learned this sad history 
 of wrong and neglect in him whom I had so loved 
 as my father. In a drawer of old papers I found a 
 letter. From a careless glance at the commence- 
 ment, my attention became riveted, and I read with 
 a throbbing heart until, through the blinding tears, 
 I saw at the bottom my own mother's name. The 
 letter had evidently been written at different dates, 
 and was blotted with tears. 
 
 " ' MY SISTER : Crushed and broken beneath the 
 ruins of all my early hopes, I turn to you to asjk youi 
 forgiveness, and to pour into your too kind bosom 
 the sorrows that overwhelm me. My heart aches 
 aches with its knowledge of blighted hopes, and of 
 the fearful and bitter truths which have so thickly 
 come upon me : my brain aches and turns almost to 
 madness, as the history of a year sweeps over me. 
 Oh, Martha ! how I long to die to lie down in the 
 cold and quiet rest of the grave ! 
 
 " ' Do you remember, Martha, the night before I 
 was married, what you said to me a we stood under 
 the old elm in the garden ? and how bitterly I spoke 
 and repelled the warning you whispered to me in 
 tears ? You would forgive me, I know you would, 
 .were you to see me now. My poor heart bleeds at 
 every pore ; my cheek has faded and fallen away ; 
 B
 
 4:8 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 and you would not recognize in this ghastly wreak 
 the wayward girl of our dear old home. 
 
 "All is dark. Not a ray of hope on earth. I weep 
 over my sleeping babes ; but I must die. God pro- 
 tect them. 
 
 . . . " ' That bright future, Martha, is all gloom 
 
 black, black as night. I have wept, and prayed, 
 and besought. He mocks me. Great God ! Martha, 
 he mocks me in his drunken madness! He wildly 
 laughs as I weep. To-day, I held our babe to him 
 for a caress ; he cruelly struck the innocent sleeper 
 with his hand ! 
 
 " ' I am dying, Martha ! Do not weep ; I long for 
 rest. God will protect my babe. The consumption 
 of sorrow and suffering is wasting my weary heart. 
 
 " ' Our neighbors are kind, or we should suffer. 
 Your ever kind heart will bleed when you know that 
 the daughter of Colonel Wilder is in want. But I 
 tell it to warn you. Never, as you hope for peace on 
 earth, trust the man who drinks. 
 
 " ' Frederick appears utterly indifferent. He 
 spends his nights principally at the tavern, and is 
 sullen when at home. Oh, it is hard to die thus. . . 
 My cup overflows. Would to God that I had died 
 when my mother died ! Frederick came in this eve- 
 ning at the earnest appeal of our friends. How 
 changed Jie is, as well as myself! He spoke bitterly 
 to ine, and demanded my wedding jewels he had
 
 THE MANUSCRIPT. 4:9 
 
 gambled, and lost ! He attempted to take the beau- 
 tiful Bible our mother gave me, and as I lay my hand 
 upon it in mute appeal, he ob, Martha ! he struck 
 me a heavy blow. .... Consciousness has re 
 turned, and the Bible is gone ! . . . I shall di 
 
 to-night. God protect the boy 
 
 " ' ELLEN.' 
 
 " I mingled my own bitter tears with those that had 
 long since become dry upon the blotted page, and 
 went forth into the world with my boy-bosom throb- 
 bing with the hate of manhood against the curse which 
 had killed my mother."
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MINNIE HERMON, 
 
 " FOR a longtime after removing to Oakvale, I found 
 no kindred spirit with which to commune. My 
 father was reserved, seldom smiled, or addressed a 
 pleasant word to his only child. 
 
 " My young and impetuous nature must find employ- 
 ment in hunting. Day after day for weeks at a time, 
 with fishing rod or gun, I ranged the dense forests 
 which stretched away for miles in the immediate vi- 
 cinity of Oakvale. I had found every overhanging 
 crag, every waterfall and dark ravine, and threaded 
 every stream. Thus engaged, I had not noticed the 
 arrival of strangers in the village, and should have 
 cared but little if I had. 
 
 " The winter somewhat restrained my sports, but, 
 with the early spring, I was abroad again with dog 
 and gun. Immediately back of Oakvale was a moun- 
 tain stream, which plunged down a succession of falls 
 into a deep, dark chasm, and rolled away through 
 t!:e valley. Recent rains had raised it to a swollen 
 and angry tide, the cascades presenting one unbroken 
 sheet of spray and foam. Nearly half way up tho 
 first fall was a wide, projecting mass of rock, over- 
 hanging the abyss so far that the spectator coiud ob- 
 tain a complete view of the whole gorge above, un-
 
 IffifNIE HERMON. 51 
 
 obstructed by the dense growth of overhanging spruce. 
 The path to this landing place was through a wide 
 fissure in the rocks, the rugged masses and dark ever- 
 greens rising upon either side until the sunbean.s 
 were shut entirely out. From this opening a circui 
 tous and narrow path wound to the foot of the 
 mountain. 
 
 " From early morn until late in the afternoon, I had 
 followed a deer with ill success. Thrice had he taken 
 to the river, across which I had followed him, until I 
 was wet, weary and hungry. The dog did not close 
 up with rigor, or the sport might have been soon 
 ended. The deer at last crossed through the village 
 and entered the river at the base of the mountain. 
 Unleashing a fresh dog at home, I took the ferry and 
 followed, sure of soon putting an end to the work. 
 The dog drove the chase so closely that he entered 
 the path to the table rock, and struggled with despe- 
 rate vigor up the steep ascent. As he entered the 
 rocky path I felt sure of him, for there was no egress 
 but into the foaming basin beneath. 
 
 " The more rapid baying of the hound put new vigor 
 into my w r eary steps, and I hurried forward. Enter- 
 ing the defile, I found the stag at bay, and the dog 
 vainly attempting to reach him. Beyond and immer 
 diately upon the tall rock, over the chasm, was an 
 apparition, so unexpected and startling, that my steps 
 were fastened to the rock, and I looked in utter be- 
 wilderment, scarcely knowing whether it was real or 
 imaginary. Slightly leaning forward, with hands
 
 52 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 clasped and lips parted, and with a countenance of 
 deathly paleness, stood the loveliest female figure I 
 had ever beheld. She was beautiful in her terror 
 her hair hanging in heavy masses as it had fallen from 
 its fastenings upon her exquisitely arched neck. A 
 noble Newfoundland stood bristling and growling be- 
 fore her. At the instant the old dog came up, and 
 with a fierce yell sprang at the stag, the latter turn- 
 ing upon his heels like lightning, and darting for the 
 rock where the female stood. 
 
 " ' Down down on your face ! ' I screamed ; but 
 he lowered his antlers, and, like an arrow, shot over 
 into the boiling gulf, carrying stranger, dogs, and all 
 with him. A shriek carne up distinctly above the 
 roar of the waters, and I reached out to grasp the rock 
 for support. As quickly I became strangely calm 
 again, and rushed to the brink with a sickening sen- 
 sation. My own dog and the deer were swimming 
 in company down the swift current, but the New- 
 foundler, with the shoulders of his insensible mistress 
 in his grasp, was swimming about as if at a loss 
 where to strike out. Leaning over the rock, I swung 
 my hat and shouted until the dog heard me, and with 
 little hope of being understood, I urged him down the 
 stream. The noble brute understood me, and struck 
 out into the current. Reckless of life or limb, 1 
 turned and ran to the foot of the precipice, reaching 
 the bend in the river just as the nearly exhausted 
 dog and his burden swept around the point. lie had 
 exhausted himself in stemming the tide in the attempt
 
 MINNIE I-IEEMON. 53 
 
 to reach the shore ; and as he shot past, he turned 
 upon me an eye whose strangely sad intelligence 
 spoke mutely the language of despair. Leaping into 
 the current, I struck out, and soon reached the dog 
 and his prize, and after beating the current until 
 nearly despairing, succeeded in reaching the shore. 
 
 " It was a long time before life leturn^d to the insen- 
 sible form of the beautiful stranger ; but she was a 
 prize worth saving ! She was the only child of a 
 middle-aged man, who had just moved into the vil- 
 lage, with the remains of a broken fortune. Her his- 
 tory had been a sad one, as had mine ; and our spirits, 
 kindred in misfortunes, craved each other's compan- 
 ionship. 
 
 " A dark tempter had wrought the ruin of Mr. Her- 
 mon, and his wife had gone to her grave in the 
 midst of the desolation. But like a star gleaming 
 above the clouds of the storm, was the faith and de- 
 votion of the daughter. 
 
 " Minnie Herman was just budding into woman- 
 hood, and one of the most beautiful creatures of 
 female purity and loveliness it had ever been my for- 
 tune to become acquainted with. She was as gentle 
 as a midsummer's breath, and as pure and lovely as 
 that midsummer's flowers : and yet, she was a rock 
 amid the wrecked fortunes of her father. Her spirit 
 stood proudly up, and with that strange energy pecu- 
 liar to woman under such circumstances, looked 
 calmly upon the storm, while the spirit of the strong 
 man bowed to the earth.
 
 54: MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 *' Minnie possessed every virtue which sheds a lustre 
 upon the character ot woman. She was not wild or 
 wayward; a tinge of sadness mingled with tho 
 lovely calmness of her countenance ; her very motion, 
 and look, and tone, were calm, falling upon all around 
 like mellow sunlight. All loved Minnie Ilermon. 
 
 " I loved her with the intense, idolatrous devotion of 
 youth. Onr natures were similar ; our histories, too, 
 were much the same ; and a feeling of common sym- 
 pathy seemed to draw our hearts into closer com- 
 munion the more we learned of each other's history. 
 Each turned with sadness from the past, for we both 
 had a drunken father, and both had lost a mother. 
 
 " We were happy. The old woods stretched down 
 the mountain side to the outskirts of the village ; 
 streams leaped and danced to the valley's bed, and 
 then babbled onward to the river. Many a wild 
 nook was hidden among the mountains, and there we 
 rambled and dreamed, with nature around us. 
 
 " Not a word had ever passed our lips of love ; and 
 yet each heart knew all. Even as we watched the 
 gliding streams, or the sunlight as it faded out over 
 the hills, hearts conversed while lips moved not ; and 
 the warp and woof of a holy tie were weaving into 
 our destinies. 
 
 " Minnie was no ordinary woman. Her mind had 
 suffered nothing from the education of so called fash- 
 ionable life : its native in some respects more than 
 masculine strength was unimpaired. The circ im- 
 gtances of her father's fail ure had brought out all the
 
 MINNIE AND WALTER.
 
 MINNIE HEEMON. 57 
 
 energies of her character, by throwing her back upon 
 her own resources. She had improved all her advan- 
 tages, and still retained the original nobleness and 
 purity of her nature. 
 
 " And thus we spent some of our brightest years., 
 dreaming together as we watched the drifting of the 
 summer clouds, which were mirrored in the bosom 
 of the lake which slept among the hills. 
 
 " Dreams are like clouds ! a cloud was drifting 
 yvei our sky, surcharged with a bitter storm." 
 
 B* 8
 
 CHAPTER IT. 
 
 A NEW PROJECT. 
 
 " THE business of the little village was increasing, 
 and it was talked of that the little community needed 
 a tavern : its business interests required such an ' ac- 
 commodation,' it was thought. And so the matter 
 was gravely discussed ; and as Mr. Hermon seemed 
 to be best located for the accommodation of ' the pub- 
 lic,' he was urged to open a tavern. Of course rum 
 must be sold ; for, at that day, a tavern could not 
 have been kept without it. That fatal idea has filled 
 a world with dead men's bones. 
 
 " I had not yet heard of the project on foot. On 
 entering the dwelling of Ilermon one evening, I found 
 Minnie in tears. Her eyes were red and swollen with 
 weeping, and long, convulsive sobs were struggling 
 for utterance. I was startled, but soon learned the 
 cause of her trouble, for she told me all. 
 
 " The remembrance of the past swept over her like 
 the shadow of gloom, and she shrank from the dark- 
 ened future. Her father had that evening informed 
 her of the new project, and of his determination to 
 carry it out. 
 
 " I saw it all at a glance. I not only saw the troub- 
 les which were thickening over the head of Minnie,
 
 A NEW PROJECT. 59 
 
 but felt their malign influence sweeping across my 
 own sky. A presentiment of swift-coming evil dark- 
 ened in the heart, as my mind dwelt with painful in- 
 tensity upon the history of my own mother and her 
 unhappy death. 
 
 "At the close of the last section, I spoke to the read- 
 er of a cloud which was fast drifting across the sky 
 of Minnie Ilermon and myself. I had no definite 
 conception of what that cloud would be, yet a feel- 
 ing of dread came over me. I felt its approach. Ite 
 shadow seemed to fall into my pathway, and I looked 
 for the coming of some bitter trouble. I always be- 
 lieved in presentiments, and the darkest one of my 
 life warned me of some approaching trial. 
 
 "At the close of a spring day, I wandered up the 
 mountain to the accustomed retreat ; but the golden 
 sunbeams faded out one by one, and Minnie came not. 
 That same foreboding of evil came over me again, 
 until the music of the waterfall murmured with a tone 
 of sadness, and the low breathings of the old forest 
 were like sighs in the evening breeze. 
 
 " I returned to the village and sought the residence 
 of Mr. Hermon. I found him in company with my 
 father and several other of the more prominent citi- 
 zens of the place, busily discussing some matter in the 
 parlor. 
 
 " ' It will be worth a hundred dollars a year to the 
 place,' remarked our merchant, as I entered. 
 
 " 'And besides, be a great accommodation to the 
 traveling public,' continued Deacon Smith.
 
 60 MINNIE HEE3ION. 
 
 " 'It will bring a great deal of business to the place, 3 
 lisped a young lawyer, who had just hung out his 
 shingle in the village. 
 
 " ' Not only that, but it will make business right 
 here amongst us,' said the doctor, a man. of much 
 talent, and beloved by all with whom he associated. 
 
 " ' We can then hold our general parades here,' re- 
 marked Colonel James, and his eyes twinkled at the 
 idea of his appearance in epaulettes in his own com- 
 munity. 
 
 " ' Farmers from the country will always find it a 
 convenient stopping-place to stop when here to trade, 
 or to get their milling done,' said a young farmer of 
 wealth, who lived some three miles out of the village. 
 
 " ' The thing will give us a reputation abroad,' con- 
 tinued my father, as the party all left to continue the 
 discussion of this new plan at the store. 
 
 " "What this new project might be, which met witi 
 euch cordial approbation from the leading men in the 
 village, I had not learned. 
 
 "As the company passed out, Minnie entered the 
 room from an opposite direction. She met my usual 
 greeting with a strange and embarrassing silence. 1 
 urged her to explain, when she only answered with a 
 fresh burst of grief. 
 
 " She wept herself into calmness, and then revealed 
 to me the cause of her sorrows. 
 
 "The subject of the discussion in the parlor was ex- 
 plained, and I at once saw the nature of the cloud 
 which hung ominously in our sky. A faint, sickening
 
 A NEW PROJECT. 61 
 
 sensation crept to my heart while I listened to the 
 footfalls of the tempter which was to transform our 
 Eden into a realm of darkness. That tempter as- 
 sumed no definite shape to my inexperienced mind. 
 I saw nothing clearly, but yet I shuddered at Minnie's 
 revelation. A low hiss murmured upon my ear, and 
 a sound of demoniac laughter audibly started me 
 from my chair. I involuntarily turned, but nothing 
 but the pure moonlight beamed in at the window. 
 
 " Why is it that the approach of some evil is so 
 etartingly foreshadowed? 
 
 "A TAVERN was to be opened in the village. This 
 was the new project, and its necessity was urged by 
 nearly all the inhabitants, in such kind of reasoning 
 as was heard at the house of Hermon. A public 
 house was needed, said such people, and as Mr. Her- 
 mon was the best situated to open one, his house was 
 hit upon for the tavern. Though I spoke words of 
 cheer to Minnie, she could not smile, and there was a 
 weight at my own. heart, which gave the lie as they 
 fell. She looked upon the project as the very foun- 
 tain head of unutterable woe to her and hers. I re- 
 marked, against my own convictions, that all might 
 be well, but she solemnly answered : 
 
 " l Walter, you do not know all that I know of these 
 taverns. I have seen my father leave his home and 
 spend his time and money there, in the dead of win- 
 ter, and poverty and want close around our hearth- 
 side, until my own sunny childhood has been 
 crushed, and the mother of my idolatry grew pale
 
 62 MINNIE IIEEMON. 
 
 and emaciated for the want of fuel and bread ! Oh, 
 God ! it is horrible to think of. I could have coined 
 my young blood to have warmed and fed to have 
 saved her. I saw her thin and staggering form felled 
 to the hearth by my father's hand! Do you see 
 this ? ' and she pointed to a broad scar on the back 
 of her head. ' The same hand and the same weapon 
 laid me senseless as I raised my child-hands to save 
 my mother. And yet, a kinder father or happier 
 home child never knew, than I once had. My heart 
 burns within me until I well-nigh go mad, as the deep- 
 rooted hatred against the cause of all our misery is 
 aroused anew at the mention of a tavern. I have 
 starved, "Walter aye starved for the want of bread. 
 I have waded the cold winter drifts until my very 
 heart was chilled to its centre, and then been laughed 
 at by the crowd assembled. Pinched with cold and 
 hunger, I have begged for a wasting mother. That 
 mother died in a hovel, and was buried as a pauper, 
 the very fingers of death robbed of a wedding-ring 
 wherewith to purchase rum ! The .tavern did it all. 
 May God's curse rest upon them ! ' 
 
 " Minnie bowed her face in her hands, and wept 
 long and bitterly. I thought of my own mother, and 
 of the letter which so fearfully revealed her sad his- 
 tory, and mingled my own tears with hers. 
 
 " Late at night, I returned with a heavy heart to 
 my father's house. 
 
 " The next morning, I asked my father what it was 
 which he and his friends were so earnestly talking
 
 A NEW PROJECT. 63 
 
 about at Mr. Hermon's. There was a slight flush 
 upon his cheek as he looked me in the eye, and ab- 
 ruptly answered, 
 
 " 'A tavern, sir ! J 
 
 " That ' sir,' stung me. The tone and the look were 
 somewhat startling. I at once saw that it was a mat- 
 ter which he did not wish to talk with me about ; but 
 I became emboldened, and determined to discounte- 
 nance the project, though all the magnates of the vil- 
 lage should favor it. I spoke confusedly, yet with all 
 the impetuous earnestness of youth. I felt that I was 
 right. I dared to denounce taverns as a curse as 
 places wliere men were made to neglect and abuse 
 their own families and disgrace themselves. 
 
 " I had unthinkingly touched a tender spot, and his 
 black eye kindled and flashed as he bent his full gaze 
 upon me. There was a paleness about his lips, and 
 he breathed huskily through his clenched teeth, while 
 a bitter and scornful smile gave his countenance a 
 dark and forbidding outline. I knew he was deeply 
 angered, yet feared him not. At any other time, I 
 should have shrunk from such portents, but my young 
 blood was up at his menacing appearance, and some 
 mysterious influence unclosed a torrent of warm 
 words from my lips. I followed up my blows, he 
 glaring at me, and his broad bosom heaving under 
 excitement. 
 
 " 'Boy ! ' at last he fiercely hissed between his hard- 
 set teeth as his rage found vent in words, 'Boy ! no 
 more out of your head. I'll not be thus outraged by
 
 64 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 your impudence. I can attend to yours. Go, sir, 
 your presence can be dispensed with.' 
 
 " He literally stamped and chafed, but while he 
 boiled with passion, I became perfectly cool. I con- 
 fess that there was something of revenge in my cool- 
 ness. The letter of my mother came up before me, 
 and every word glowed like hot lava in my blood and 
 burned upon my tongue's end. A pent-up tide of 
 bitterness against my father gushed fiercely up, and 
 I eagerly availed myself of the opportunity of re- 
 vealing the knowledge I had so painfully acquired, 
 of intemperance, and its fatal effects upon my mother. 
 He had not dreamed of such knowledge on my part, 
 and readily supposed that I knew more of his early 
 course than I really did. My unguarded and hot words 
 etung him like serpents, and he grew purple with 
 rage. "Walking menacingly up to where I stood, he 
 raised his clenched hand, and with a fearful oath or- 
 dered me to be gone. 
 
 " '-Leave the room, you young reptile,' he fiercely 
 said, his hand still raised. The blow which fell years 
 ago upon the dying mother, blistered upon my own 
 cheek, and I fearlessly retorted while looking him full 
 in the face, 
 
 Ul Strike! the hand that basely crushed a broken 
 li carted mother, would have little hesitation in striking 
 the child.' 
 
 " My father's face grew livid as I deliberately pro- 
 nounced the words, and instead of striking me, as I 
 expected he would, he turned away like a drunken
 
 A NEW PROJECT. 65 
 
 man, and reseated himself in his chair. I left the 
 room, regretting the harsh words I had spoken, and 
 yet not altogether displeased with the effect they evi- 
 dently produced upon him. 
 
 " Ever after, in our conversation, my father treated 
 me with marked coolness and reserve. I was grieved 
 at this, for I felt that from ray heart I wished his own 
 good in what I had said of a mother. Oh, if I could 
 at that time have enjoyed the light of that world- wide 
 flame which has since been kindled upon the temper- 
 ance altar, I feel that I could have headed-off the new 
 proj ect. 
 
 " I freely and frankly told Minnie of the conversa- 
 tion which had passed between my father and myself. 
 
 " ' We are doomed,' said she, in reply. ' I have 
 warned father. I have reminded him of the promise 
 the sacred and solemn vow he made at the bedside 
 of my dying mother, as she placed my childish hands 
 in his never to visit a tavern, or drink again. I told 
 him of that mother's sufferings of my own of 
 his fearful fall, and long and dark pilgrimage of deg- 
 radation. I knelt to him and wet his hands with my 
 tears as I wept in the fullness of my grief, and be- 
 sought him by all that was dark in the past, com- 
 fortable in the present, and blissful in the future, to 
 abandon the tavern project. But, Walter, I have no 
 hope that he will, and I fear that my poor heart has 
 hardly tasted the bitterness yet to come. I can al- 
 ready see the result of this he is determined. The 
 tear that for a moment gathered in his eye, as I spoke
 
 C6 MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 of my sainted mother in heaven, was chased away by 
 a flash of untamed passion, and he rudely bade me 
 desist. Walter, the accursed work has already com- 
 menced! I learned that he had been then drinking, 
 and I have since found a bottle hidden away in tho 
 closet ! God pity me ! ' 
 
 " The truth flashed upon me ; my own father had 
 been drinking at the time he exhibited such passion. 
 I had not dreamed that it was rum instead of rage 
 which caused him to reel as he turned away from me 
 that morning. Our merchant kept liquors for medi- 
 cinal purposes, and it was there where the damning 
 fires of intemperance had been covertly kindled anew. 
 
 " I now felt myself older by years, than a few days. 
 Age had crept into my young heart, and chased the 
 smile from my countenance. I felt that I stood in the 
 position of a protector to Minnie, for our whole com- 
 munity were enlisted for the new tavern. I felt the 
 full baptism of manhood come upon me, and spoke 
 boldly and frankly to her of love, and offered my 
 hand in marriage. She laid her hand in mine, and 
 with all the wealth of her deep and pure affection, 
 returned mine. I urged her to an immediate union, 
 and thus joined, to seek a retreat of our own, and to- 
 gether meet and turn aside the storm which was ga 
 thering around us. But she would not yet consent 
 She said she was the only kin of her father, an< 
 could not consent to leave him alone and unwatci e . 
 over in the troubles which were evidently conmu 
 upon him.
 
 A NEW PROJECT. 67 
 
 "'Ko, Walter, do not urge me. My love would 
 lead me" with you to the ends of the earth, and 
 through any trial, but it seems to me that duty says, 
 stay. I fear the worst ; and if my father again falls 
 into that fearful abyss, who will care for him if I do 
 not? I know all you would say of his past negli- 
 gence nay, cruelty but should I leave him while 
 there is a single hope ? It may be that I can save 
 him. At any rate, if I cannot stay the cloud whose 
 shadow already falls so darkly around us, I can cling 
 to him when it bursts.' 
 
 " My youthful earnestness my strong love of 
 Minnie, grew impatient under such reasoning ; but 
 she was firm, and I loved her the more as I witnessed 
 her deep and changeless devotion to the welfare of 
 her father. It revealed still more of that angelic 
 worth which had bound me so closely to the unassu- 
 ming girl. Her heroic spirit gave me nerve, and I 
 left her with a stronger reliance upon my own man 
 hood, to meet whatever of ill might be in store for 
 me."
 
 CHAPTER f . 
 
 THE SPELL BROKEN EVIL COUNSELS PREVAIL. 
 
 " THE people were infatuated with the new project. 
 The remonstrances of Minnie and myself were but 
 the feather's weight against the determination of the 
 leading men of the community. I was looked upon 
 as a meddlesome, impertinent young fellow, and she 
 as a silly girl, whose feelings in the matter were in- 
 fluenced by me. The place demanded a public house, 
 and the traveling public could not be accommodated 
 without one. The tavern must be opened. * 
 
 "Minnie avowed her determination once more to at- 
 tempt to persuade her father to abandon the project 
 of opening the tavern. 
 
 " Late one evening, Mr. Hermon sat by the parlor 
 window, looking dreamily out upon the landscape 
 which lay like a fairy realm under its wealth of moon- 
 beams. Clear and calm, its smile stole silently in 
 upon the carpet, and lingered like the messenger of 
 innocence and purity upon the feverish cheek of the 
 old man. "With as noiseless a step, the lights and the 
 shadows of other days lay mingled in the heart. The 
 holy beauty and the associations of the hour were 
 weaving a spell over the heavings of a troubled spirit, 
 and the old man looked upward. Minnie well under- 
 stood the wayward moods of her father, and knew, as
 
 THE SPELL BROKEN. 69 
 
 she had watched him from her seat upon the sofa, that 
 his better nature was uppermost. With a gentle 
 touch she swept the strings of her harp, her soul vi- 
 brating in every tone as she bowed over the instru- 
 ment and wept. It had been her mother's harp, and 
 the air was a favorite one of hers ; its touching sweet- 
 ness often banishing the frown from her father's brow, 
 and melting his stern nature to tenderness. 
 
 " A tear glittered a moment on the cheek of Her- 
 mon, though brushed hastily away. But Minnie saw 
 it, and, uniting her voice with the harp, she gave the 
 words of the familiar hymn with all the sad fervor 
 which her heart could feel. There was a tear in her 
 tones, and they mingled like the low sweep of an an- 
 gel's wing upon the stillness around. Hermon bowed 
 his face ere the last words had died away. That 
 hymn had opened the fountain of a thousand memo- 
 ries, and he could not but weep. 
 
 " With a beating heart, Minnie stole across the room 
 and kneeled at her father's feet, weaving her arms 
 around his knees and looking up in his face. 
 
 " * My own dear father ! here, upon my knees, I need 
 not tell you how much I love you. Ton know that 
 no fortune can drive me from you. In the dark past 
 I have clung more closely, as every other friend de- 
 serted. Father ! look upon your only kin. As you 
 love me my sainted mother who smiles upon us to- 
 night, as you love yourself and Heaven, tell me 
 now that you will have nothing to do with this tavern 
 business. Will you not, my father ? ' And the
 
 10 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 pleading girl caught his hand, and warmed it with 
 her tears. Emotion stirred the strong man as he felt 
 the pure gush upon his parched hand, and his heart 
 was moved to say as she wished. The dark tempter 
 was weakened in that bitter hour, and before the 
 daughter's pleading; but yet the fearful bonds were 
 upon him. The large drops stood out upon his fore- 
 head, and Hermon would have joyed to have escaped 
 the toils which were weaving around him. 
 
 " ' But I have promised, my child,' at last said her 
 father, hesitatingly. 
 
 " ' God help you to break that promise ! ' fervently 
 replied Minnie. ' Happiness and Heaven are worth 
 more than faith kept with wrong. I need not tell 
 you all that I feel, father ; but bitter wo is upon us 
 if you keep the promise. As you promised my moth- 
 er, so promise me this night, and we will still be 
 happy. Will you not?' 
 
 "Minnie had arisen, and was imprinting a kiss on 
 the old man's cheek, when footsteps were heard in 
 the hall. My father and Deacon McGnrr wished to 
 epeak with Mr. Hermon. 
 
 " The holy spell was broken, and the tempter was 
 triumphant. When Minnie again saw her father, the 
 usual frown was upon his features, and the fume of 
 mm was upon his lip. No effort of hers could obtain 
 a word from him in relation to the matter sc pain- 
 fully interesting to her. The next morning witnessed 
 demonstrations which destroyed all her hopes of de- 
 feating the plan.
 
 THE SPELL BROKEN. ' 1 
 
 " The carpenters and masons were soon at work re- 
 pairing, remodeling, and adding to, the dwelling of 
 Mr. Hermon. A ' bar-room ' was built on, and the 
 upper story of the main building made into a 'ball- 
 room.' Sheds and stables were erected on. the beau- 
 tiful yard below the dwelling ; the bright and smooth 
 greensward was cut up with hoofs and wheels, and 
 covered with lumber, and stone, and sand. The wide- 
 topped maples, now loaded with all the gorgeous 
 wealth of their autumn garniture of gold and crimson, 
 were considered in the way of ' improvements,' and 
 were cut down. I watched the axe as stroke after stroke 
 eat to the heart's core, and every blow hurt my own. 
 I had passed some of the brightest hours of my ex- 
 istence beneath their wide branches, and when the 
 rustling pyramids fell to the ground with a sigh, 1 
 felt that old friends had been severed from the earth. 
 Their limbless trunks were rudely dragged away 
 through the dirt, and the scattered leaves rudely 
 trodden under foot. 
 
 " The dwelling of Mr. Hermon assumed an entire 
 new aspect. The sound of the hammer, the saw, and 
 the trowel, rang out through the quiet village, and 
 kept alive the discussion about the tavern. Citizens 
 assembled at evening to smoke and talk the matter 
 over, each suggesting this and that improvement; 
 good matrons stopped from their shopping or visiting 
 to gaze over their specks at the change, while the 
 'ball-room' elicited the liveliest attention 01 the 
 'misses. The boys looked on with childish wonder
 
 72 MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 and gratification, and danced around the blazing pile 
 of shavings which the carpenters had tired in the 
 street at nightfall. 
 
 " The tavern was soon completed. The * bar ' was 
 nicely arranged, and received the unanimous admira- 
 tion of the villagers ; for all, as they came in every 
 evening to see how the thing ' got along,' had sugges- 
 tions to make. A small piazza was built in front of 
 the bar-room, and a broad bench placed the entire 
 length, for the accommodation of customers. A new 
 cedar pump had been put into the well, the top 
 'peaked' and painted white. 
 
 " The tavern awaited the furniture. The neighbors 
 made a ' bee ' and cleared away the rubbish in front, 
 and drew in gravel around the shed and 'stoop.' The 
 jug passed around freely during the afternoon, and 
 at night a garrulous group gathered on the benches 
 under the stoop, and for the hundredth time spoke of 
 the great benefits which were to result from the tavern. 
 
 " A * sign ' was needed to announce the home for the 
 traveler. After much consultation and suggestion of 
 many names, that of ' Traveler's Home ' was fixed 
 upon. The sign was soon completed, with scrolls and 
 gilded spear points, and swung up near the pump be- 
 twixt two tall posts. On the centre of the board, the 
 painter had placed a beehive, as an emblem of indus- 
 try and thrift, and beneath, the motto, ' peace and 
 plenty.' The sign made a very neat appearance, and 
 for a few days received the same attentions from tho 
 villagers as had the other improvements.
 
 THE 6PELL BEOKEN. 73 
 
 " One more arrangement, and the tavern would be 
 ready to go into operation. There was a law regula- 
 ting the sale of liquors and the keeping of public 
 houses, allowing none but moral men to engage in so 
 honorable and necessary an avocation. The tavern 
 must be legally kept. 
 
 " At that day, the man who had dared to intimate 
 that a tavern could be kept without liquor, would 
 have been hooted at as a fool or madman. For how 
 could travelers be entertained without ' accommoda- 
 tions ? ' The weary wayfarer would suffer alternately 
 with heat and cold, if there was nothing to ' take.' 
 A man or beast entertained at a public house where 
 liquors were not sold ! 
 
 "The supervisor and the justices of the peace were 
 notified of the completion of Mr. Hermoh's tavern, 
 and applied to as a board of excise, for a license to 
 keep it legally, or according to law. That grave body 
 assembled the last of October, for it was important 
 that a public house should be Dpened before the fall 
 election."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE "HOME" A WBONG REGULATED. 
 
 u 
 
 THE reader will remember that we have been in- 
 troducing our characters upon the stage while tho 
 arrangements were completing for the licensing of 
 the 'Traveler's Home.' There are many more actors 
 to be introduced before the drama all passes before 
 the reader. 
 
 Late in the evening before the day of the meet- 
 ing of the excise board, the villagers were gathered 
 on the steps of the ' Home,' or setting on the benches, 
 all deeply interested in the success of the new enter 
 prise, and calculating on the benefits to the place by 
 a large increase of business. Deacon McGarr, one 
 of the justices, the supervisor, and several others of 
 the magnates, were conversing in a low and earnest 
 tone, of the probable rise in the value of the village 
 lots and water privileges. Conspicuous above all was 
 the village blacksmith. 
 
 "We must give an outline of * Jim Gaston,' as thb 
 huge Vulcan was familiarly called by his neighbors, 
 as he will again appear in some of the future 
 chapters. 
 
 Gaston's proportions were giant-like, he being six 
 feet and eight inches in height, and of immense breadth 
 of shoulders and strength of limb. His fist was as
 
 THE "HOME." ^5 
 
 large as his own sledge, and calloused with industri- 
 ous toil. His huge head was buried in a dense un- 
 dergrowth of black, bushy hair, features coarse and 
 bronzed, but pleasant with the smile of undeviating 
 good nature. In his broad bosom was as warm and 
 true a heart as ever beat for family or friend, and all 
 who knew him respected him as a genial-hearted, 
 hard-working, honest man. "With all his physical 
 strength, Gaston had never been known to have an 
 angry word in his life, with a customer or neighbor. 
 On the contrary, he had on several occasions prompt- 
 ly, though good-naturedly, used his .strength in de- 
 fence of the weaker against the stronger. His own 
 broad smile and happy disposition were infectious, 
 and, winter or summer, early or late, his stentorian 
 voice was heard, the accompaniment of his hammer 
 and anvil. 
 
 Gaston, in his red flannel shirt, his open bosom and 
 heavy neck and face begrimmed with smut from his 
 day's toil at the forge, was cracking his good-humored 
 jokes, as he sat on a pile of lumber in front of the 
 stoop, and his deep hearty laugh rolling out from a 
 wide throat. He was watching a merry group of 
 children who were playing " hide and seek " in the 
 thickening twilight, as happy as the happiest of them 
 all. One pale and diminutive little fellow had nestled 
 closely under the massive leggof the good-natured 
 blacksmith, and a larger one behind his wide shoul- 
 ders. While the boy on the "gool" was hunting his 
 comrades under the shed, Gaston clasped the boy at
 
 76 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 his back, and carelessly walked with him to the gool 
 without suspicion, and dropped him upon it. Ko 
 child laughed harder t.ian he at the little ruse. Such 
 are the outlines of " Jim Gaston," the blacksmith. 
 
 The evening had well advanced, and Deacon 
 McGarr arose to go. At that moment Ilermon came 
 out of the bar-room, with a glass and decanter in his 
 hand, and passed to the end of the stoop where 
 McGarr was lingering and talking with Gaston a 
 moment, about some work to be done early in the 
 morning. 
 
 " Deacon," said Ilermon, " I suppose there is no 
 doubt about my having a license to sell ; and as I al- 
 ready have my liquors on hand, perhaps you would 
 like to try a glass. I rather pride myself on my 
 choice selection." 
 
 " Well, I don't know what have you in the de- 
 canter ? " and McGarr's eye glistened as he rolled a 
 huge tobacco quid from his cheek into his hand and 
 tossed it into the street, wiping his palm on his pants. 
 
 " Brandy, Deacon fourth proof, and as smooth 
 as oil. I can vouch for its quality," and Ilermon 
 poured a stiff horn into the tumbler, and handed it to 
 McGarr. 
 
 Sure enough, the brandy went down like oil, and 
 McGarr gave an approving ahem as he wiped his lips 
 with the back of his hand ; then planting his feet 
 well apart and throwing out his capacious person with 
 a pompous swing as he raised upon his toes, he 
 pulled his large tin tobacco-box from his pocket, and
 
 THE "HOME." 11 
 
 compressing a startling roll in his thumb and three fin- 
 gers, twisted it into his mouth, and with his tongue 
 thrust it to the accustomed receptacle in the cheek ; 
 then putting his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, 
 and sticking out his little fingers in ludicrous efforts 
 to show off his importance by discussing the qualities 
 of the liquor he had drank at different times, spitting 
 dignifiedly, working his little fingers, and swaying 
 backwards and forwards alternately upon his toes 
 and heels. 
 
 The decanter went round, and all drinked of the 
 brandy, though the most of them made horrible faces 
 as the raw liquid went down their throats. Among 
 the latter was Gaston and the oldest son of McGarr. 
 As the unwieldy blacksmith strangled and gasped 
 for water and the tears stood in his eyes, the older part 
 of the company enjoyed a hearty laugh. The matter 
 was more serious with young McGarr, and the children 
 who remained were merry at his tears and wry faces. 
 
 "It is nothing to laugh at," said old McGarr, evi- 
 dently a little piqued, as he stroked his chin with his 
 hand ; " Harry is but a mere boy, and has not the ex- 
 perience of older people." 
 
 The company ceased laughing, and young McGan 
 took courage and looked up, with a boldness which 
 gave promise of speedy manhood in the matters 
 spoken of. His ambition was aroused to arrive at 
 that point where he could swallow the dram as well 
 as older men. 
 
 A fatal ambition.
 
 78 MINNIE IIEKMON. 
 
 The villagers had all departed to their homes, and 
 the long, wide street was hushed and still. Not a 
 light was to be seen, or a footfall heard. Thick, mur- 
 ky clouds had gathered around the horizon, and the 
 increasing night wind sighed dismally through the 
 branches of the maple which had been left standing 
 near the shed of the "Traveler's Home." 
 
 From the window of the sitting-room there now 
 came the hum of voices, low, half whispering and 
 sad, like the falling of tear-drops in the stillness of 
 the night. It was Minnie Herrnon and Walter Bray- 
 ton, in sad communion upon the matter so fearfully 
 interesting to them. 
 
 " Is there no way, Walter, by which this scheme 
 can be defeated ? I am as certain that ruin will come 
 of it, as that the morning will dawn. Oh, were I a 
 man ! " 
 
 " What would you, what could you do, Minnie, tc 
 avert the result? The house is all arranged, the 
 liquors are here, and to-morrow the board meets to 
 give your father a license. Tell me." 
 
 Walter spoke earnestly and sadly, for her words had 
 wounded him. Minnie had lost her resolute tone, and 
 hung her head as she thought she had said too much. 
 
 "Pardon me, Walter, for I spoke from the strength 
 of feeling and not soberly. I don't know that any- 
 thing can be done. I have plead, but it all does no 
 good. I have said all that I dare to ; but, Walter, 
 father is changed of late he frowns and curses as 
 he did when mother was living."
 
 THE "HOME." Y9 
 
 ""Well, Minn.'e," said Brayton, with assumed con- 
 fidence, "let us hope fcr the best. I have made up 
 my mind to attend the meetings of the board to- 
 morrow, and protest against the matter." 
 
 " It will do no good, "Walter, they will all bo 
 against you." 
 
 " No matter ; your father they all will be offend- 
 ed, but they shall hear me," and "Walter Brayton, 
 firm in the strength of an honest purpose, raised him- 
 self to his full height, as if eager to grapple with some 
 imaginary enemy. 
 
 "With the sky overcast and the darkness around 
 them, Minnie and "Walter whispered kindly words to 
 each other and parted. She listened to his retreating 
 footsteps and to the sighing wind, and closed the door 
 with darkening thoughts. 
 
 It had rained during the night, enough to prevent 
 the farmers from attending their usual avocations on 
 the following day. This, with the interest which the 
 new tavern created, attracted a large number of peo- 
 ple to the village, and when the hour came for the as- 
 sembling of the board, the " Home " was thronged. 
 The members were proud of their posi Jons, and of 
 appearing before their townsmen on an occasion of 
 eo much importance, and so, to make the matter as 
 public as possible, they adjourned from the small sit- 
 ting-room to the new and capacious ball chamber. 
 Even this room was soon filled, and the benches by 
 the walls were soon crowded, and a large number 
 standing in the open space. JSTo one could correctly
 
 80 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 determine what particular thing had called the large 
 assembly together, but an unusual official proceeding 
 was to take place, and the interest was intense. They 
 were to see a tavern licensed ! 
 
 There was a busy hum among the people, and all 
 were anxiously awaiting the commencement of the 
 proceedings. 
 
 At last Deacon McGarr took it upon himself to walk 
 around behind the table, and after looking wisely 
 through his spectacles upon the assembly, proceeded 
 to call the board to order ; whereupon the other mem- 
 bers modestly took their places at the table. The 
 Bupervisor was a white-haired old gentleman an 
 honest and well-meaning old farmer, but little used 
 to public business. The remaining members were of 
 the average material selected in country towns fo* 
 such positions. 
 
 McGarr was still standing, one hand in his panta 
 loons pocket and the other resting upon the back of 
 the statute, which had occupied a conspicuous place 
 before him, he still looking solemnly over his specta- 
 cles, as if to awe into perfect silence before he pro- 
 ceeded farther. Just at this juncture there was a 
 bustle at the door, and the tall form of Colonel Wes- 
 ton appeared conspicuous. McGarr assumed a bland 
 smile and beckoned the Colonel towards him, and 
 while the wealthy young farmer was elbowing his 
 way through the crowd, the Deacon had officially 
 driven some of the smaller fry from their seats, and 
 secured a wide berth for him near the table. Close
 
 THE "HOME." 81 
 
 in the wake of "Weston swayed the huge form of the 
 blacksmith, his face covered with smut and smiles. 
 The Deacon did not esteem Gaston as important a 
 personage, and left him standing in the crowd, his 
 shoulders and open flannel shirt bosom conspicuous 
 above the heads of them all. 
 
 After Weston had taken his seat, McGarr looked 
 as sternly and solemnly as ever over his spectacles, 
 and then elevating his face and looking through them, 
 his hands locked under the skirts of his coat behind 
 him, after spitting with due precision, he broke the 
 impressive silence. 
 
 " I suppose, gentlemen, you are all aware of the 
 object which has convened us here." 
 
 The Deacon dropped his head impressively and 
 looked over his spectacles, after adjusting them more 
 carefully upon his nose and again putting his hands 
 together under his coat tails. Finding that the si- 
 lence was duly respected, he spit again, and con 
 tinned. 
 
 " I say, gentlemen, we are met here as a board of 
 -exercise, for the purpose of granting a license to Mr. 
 Hermon, to keep a tavern. I need n't 'lucidate on 
 the advantages of a tavern in a place like this. No, 
 gentlemen, it is plain to every one, that a house 
 for the accommodation of the public, is highly needed 
 among us. \persume there is not a single descending 
 voice against a tavern not one." 
 
 Mr. McGarr, at the conclusion of the last sentence, 
 given in an emphatic tone, jerked his thick body vio
 
 82 MINXIE HEEMON. 
 
 iently forward to make it still more emphatic, his 
 specs falling from his nose upon the table. A titter 
 ran round the outside of the room, among the young- 
 er portion of the audience, and the Deacon colored 
 deeply at such an interruption of his speech. But he 
 wiped his specs, and as he again put them on, lie 
 dropped his brow, rolled his quid to the other side of 
 his mouth, and again looked silently around over hij 
 glasses. 
 
 "Gentlemen and la gentlemen. We need a 
 
 tavern. Our feller citizen, Mr. Hermon, has prepared 
 to keep one, and wants a license. He is a man of 
 excellent moral character, and we are obliged as a 
 board of exercise, to give him one. The law is plain 
 on thasjwO." As he concluded, he took his specs off 
 with one hand, and with the other dropped the 
 "statoo" emphatically upon the table. With a self- 
 satisfied air, he pulled away his coat skirts and sat 
 down, crossing his legs and resting his thumbs in his 
 vest. As he looked around to see what effect his 
 speech had made upon the spectators, he slowly 
 stroked his chin, and drummed on the floor with hia 
 foot. 
 
 o one said a word, and McGarr, with a conde- 
 scending air, finally suggested that perhaps others 
 might wish to make a few remarks upon the subject 
 before them. Whereupon the supervisor raised about 
 half way up, with his hand resting upon the post of 
 his chair, and stammered out the idea that there ouo-ht 
 
 O 
 
 to be a tavern in. the place, and then sat down
 
 THE "HOME." 83 
 
 drawing a long breath. During this time, Mr. Her- 
 mon was standing in front of the table, with his hat 
 in his hand, his chin resting upon the crown. Old 
 Mr. Brayton was resting upon the corner of the 
 table. 
 
 " Gentlemen, as you have given opportunity, I wish 
 to make a few remarks." 
 
 All turned as these words, in low and tremulous 
 but pleasant and distinct tones, arrested their atten- 
 tion. Deacon McGarr so far forgot his dignity as to 
 raise himself partially from his chair, and look 
 towards that part of the room from whence the 
 voice proceeded ; then putting his hand behind his 
 ear, in a listening attitude, he requested the gentle- 
 man to speak louder. Thus assured, the speaker 
 stood upon the bench where all could see him. It 
 was Walter Brayton. His countenance was flushed, 
 and he hesitated with embarrassment, but he was 
 committed and all eyes were turned upon him. 
 
 " I see, my friends, that I shall be alone in what I 
 have to say, but before God I believe I am in the 
 right, and I must speak honestly. Alone though I 
 may be, I most earnestly and solemnly protest against 
 this whole affair. I know that I shall offend when I 
 Bay it, but I think I can see that your tavern, instead 
 of being a benefit, will be a deep and lasting injury. 
 It ought never to be." 
 
 Walter spoke rapidly, but with an honest energy 
 which riveted attention. His were novel thoughts at 
 that day, and his a bold and embarrassing position. 
 4
 
 84: MDfXIE HERMON. 
 
 But there was the ring of the true metal in his manly 
 tones, and had he been spared in his strength until a 
 later day, his moral heroism would have made him a 
 leader whose words would have been a trumpet's 
 blast. 
 
 Deacon McGarr looked more sternly than ever over 
 his glasses, and chewed his quid rapidly, casting in- 
 quiring looks from the father to the son. The elder 
 Brayton sat with a frown and compressed lip, and 
 Hermon looked angrily towards McGarr. 
 
 " Does the young man know what he is talking 
 about?" asked McGarr, with attempted sternness, 
 eyeing "Walter over his glasses. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the latter, respectfully but firm- 
 ly ; "I am talking of a tavern which you propose 
 this day to empower to sell intoxicating liquors to 
 your ne'ghbors. I know that I am talking to older 
 men, but I believe that the result of your action will 
 bring desolation and sorrow to your homes and fami 
 lies in the future. This is a peaceful, happy commu- 
 nity now, but you commence the retail of spirituous 
 liquors, and in my humble opinion, every one of yon, 
 gentlemen of the board, will regret it." 
 
 " Does the young man dare to imprecate the board 
 of exercise? Such language cannot be permitted. 
 The young man will please take his seat. Boys like 
 he should not presume to label the board. What 
 does he know about licensed taverns, and by whose 
 authority does he come here to instruct men like we 
 are?"
 
 rng " HOME." 85 
 
 McGarr grew pale with anger as he proceeded, and 
 Bat down with the air of one who felt that he had an- 
 nihilated his man. But he was mistaken in the metal 
 of "Waiter Bray ton. The sneering tone and everbear- 
 ing manner of the Deacon aroused the lion in him ; 
 and with a kindling eye and erect form he burst forth 
 in a torrent of burning eloquence, which startled and 
 thrilled "by its power. The natural orator was there, 
 and that audience, against him though they were, 
 listened in wrapt attention. 
 
 " Yes," he spoke in conclusion, his clear ringing 
 voice slightly tremulous with emotion, "your tavern 
 will prove a curse. I cannot foretell all its results, 
 but it will prove a curse. Deacon McGarr, in a man- 
 ner and tone unworthy one of his profession, haa 
 sneered at my youth. My boyhood is no crime. 
 Boy as I am, I could reveal a history which would 
 draw tears from every eye a history of hopes ruined 
 of suffering and of death." 
 
 "This cannot be tolerated; your stories have no- 
 thing to do with the matter before the board," ex- 
 claimed McGarr, in a loud and angry tone. " You 
 will take your seat, sir." 
 
 " I have done, Deacon McGarr my painful duty 
 is performed." Here "Walter caught his father's eye, 
 now flashing with anger, and he continued. 
 
 "You ask me by what authority I come here. I 
 have the same right as every other American citizen. 
 In behalf of the women and children of this commu- 
 nity ; of a sorrowing, broken-hearted mother who ia
 
 86 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 at rest in her grave; by that well-worn Bible which 
 rum snatched from her dying pillow ; by ten thou- 
 sand histories of wrong and suffering, I most solemnly 
 protest against this proceeding. You will see the 
 time when you will curse this day with hearts of 
 deepest bitterness, every one of you. I have done/' 
 
 " And it ought to be cursed ! " 
 
 A strangely deep and startling voice broke in upon 
 the stillness which followed the speech of Walter 
 Brayton. There was a movement to see from whence 
 it came, and McGarr, livid with ill-suppressed rage, 
 called out, 
 -"Who is that?" 
 
 " One your tavern is to benefit, Deacon McGarr,'' 
 and he stepped up in fair view, and fixed his fiery red 
 but piercing eye full upon the dignitary he addressed. 
 We recognize our acquaintance in the seaman's 
 jacket and broad-brimmed tarpaulin. 
 
 "The man is drunk he is drunk, put him out 
 Constable Gaston, put him out I order you ! " 
 
 The dignity of the waspish official had been too 
 deeply insulted, and he fairly danced with excess of 
 rage. 
 
 " Put him out, 1 say I order you to put him out," 
 and the exasperated Deacon snatched his glasses oif 
 and pointed to where the seaman still stood, looking 
 calmly and sneeringly upon the scene. Gaston good- 
 naturedly laid his huge hand on the man's shoulders 
 and led him peacefully down stairs. 
 
 That speech of Walter Brayton's was a glorious one
 
 THE " HOME." 87 
 
 for that day, but the granting of the license was a 
 foregone conclusion, and as soon as the excitement 
 had subsided, the board, after some favorable remarks 
 from Colonel Weston, proceeded to complete the 
 business which had called them together, and the 
 " Traveler's Home " was licensed. That evening and 
 
 o 
 
 the following day the " Home" was open to all, and 
 .iquors free. 
 The first results were in progress.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 -^ 
 
 DEATH m THE ATTIC. 
 
 DAKKNESS rests like a pall upon the streets which 
 are now deserted. The busy throng which has swept 
 the thoroughfares until late at night, has ceased to 
 flow, and the great metropolis no longer throbs its 
 living tide through the accustomed arteries. The 
 snow has been falling fast for an hour, and the sharp 
 gusts sweep round the corner and go wailing down 
 the dim avenues, as if sorrowing for human woe. 
 The lamp lights gleam pale and sickly out through the 
 Btorm. The policemen, or some reveller, and the 
 winds, alone disturb the silence that reigns. 
 
 Turn downward where the lepers of want and vice 
 have gathered as if in sympathy. The foul crater is 
 active, for its more deadly fumes ascend in the dark- 
 ness of the night. Down below the surface of earth, 
 are pits where the ruffianly and the vile are at their 
 revels. There is a faint, deathly glare from the dirty 
 windows, and, in spite of the wintry blast, an occa- 
 sional breath of the rum hell reeking beneath. And 
 then there often comes up some startling ha I ha ! to 
 mingle with the shrieking of the wind. 
 
 Here is a dark alley, scarce wide enough to admit a 
 person, and running back where no light breaks in
 
 DEATH IN THE ATTIC. 89 
 
 apon tlie impenetrable darkness. The foot strikes a 
 step and we climb upward upon a creaking flight of 
 stairs. The snow and wind whirl fiercely over the 
 roof and shake the crazy structure to its founda- 
 tion, but we lean closer to the walls and mount 
 upward. 
 
 Five stories up, and we stand upon a narrow plat- 
 form and peer down with a whirling brain into the 
 black ocean below. Turning into a narrow hall, we 
 stand before a shattered door, revealing a feeble light 
 within. Even in this winter night, the miasma of 
 pollution floats through the building like a pestilence. 
 
 "What a scene, as we enter that chamber ! Here 
 poverty and want grin in their ghastly loneliness and 
 solitude. The silence of desolation broods over all, 
 and the faint lamp-light flickering to its wane, is like 
 the beam which creeps up from the exhalations of 
 the grave. There is not a coal in the grate, nor a 
 chair in the room. The gusts of wind sift the snow 
 through the cracks by the door, and an involuntary 
 chill steals over the surface and then into the heart. 
 Starvation, gaunt, pinched and spectral, stalks before 
 the imagination, and mingles a footfall with every 
 gust that rattles the shattered door. 
 
 And do human creatures dwell in such abodes 
 as this ? 
 
 Hist! 
 
 There is a sound in that dark corner. There is a 
 sigh as if a life of agony were crushed at once from 
 the heart. And then a spectre form slowly rises and
 
 90 
 
 MTNTOE HERMON. 
 
 stalks towards the light. It is a woman, but God! 
 how thin and haggard 1 A fiercer gust shakes the old 
 building. She stands in a listening attitude, as its 
 low wail dies away, and then, wildly staring at va- 
 cancy, takes her seat mechanically upon a box by the 
 light, ITer face is thin, and every feature the foot- 
 print of unutterable agony. The eyes are sunken 
 and inflamed, but as tearless as her cheek and lip are 
 bloodless. The latter is thin and drawn closely, as if 
 in mortal suffering, over her teeth. 
 
 She leans towards the waning taper, and takes a 
 garment in her hand upon which she has been sew- 
 ing. How fearfully tearless and calm she appears. 
 We look until some nightmare fascination chains us to 
 the spot. Save a startling wildness about the eye, it 
 would not seem that those features had ever been 
 stirred by a human passion. She holds her hands 
 towards the light in the attempt to thread her needle, 
 but fails ; and still, with her hands extended, stares at 
 the dim taper. 
 
 There is a stirring in the heap of rags beside her, 
 and the woman starts as if stung by an adder. The 
 faintest flush passes over her cheek, and she mutters 
 to herself as she more hurriedly essays to thread the 
 needle. 
 
 From that heap of rags a boy has come forth ! 
 Child of ten years, perhaps he stands before that 
 spectral mother, and in husky whispers asks for bread. 
 She stares strangely into his face, and still mutters to 
 herself.
 
 DEATH IN THE ATTIC. 91 
 
 The boy is almost naked and shivering with cold, 
 and upon those childish features hunger has written 
 enough to pierce the hardest heart. The very look 
 is a hopeless, heart-breaking agony. The child bows 
 his head in that woman's lap with a sob-like moan, 
 and then moves with a languid step to the grate and 
 lays his fingers, already blue with cold, upon the 
 frosty iron. The chill causes him to start, and he re- 
 turns moaning to the woman. The hand has fallen 
 in her lap, and the boy lays his cold cheek down upon 
 it and weeps. She laughs ! but it is the low, horrible 
 ha ! ha ! of the maniac ! 
 
 " Mother ! dear mother, give me one mouthful of 
 bread. Hain't there bread enough where Pa has 
 gone ? Mother, will God give me bread if I say my 
 prayers ? " 
 
 The child kneels, and the prayer his mother taught 
 him goes feebly up against the wail of the blast, and 
 then, with weariness and hunger, the little pleader 
 falls to sleep on his knees, Ms head on his mother's 
 hand. 
 
 That mother smiles as she still stares at vacancy. 
 
 The storm has passed, and the morning ligh, 
 of the Sabbath dawns upon the great city. The 
 church bells are pealing out the Sabbath melody 
 and gay throngs of people are wending along to the 
 richly furnished churches. Here are shawls which
 
 92 MINXIE n LEMON. 
 
 a queen might envy, and equipages of princely 
 splendor. 
 
 Early this Sabbath morning, a cold-hearted land- 
 lord goes up the lone stairway for the promised pit- 
 tance of rent, and knocks at the door, which the 
 reader has already entered. He awaits but a moment 
 and angrily enters. 
 
 " No playing games with me, madam. That money 
 or leave. D'ye hear, woman ? " 
 
 The ruffian was used to scenes of suffering, but he 
 started back at the one before him. That pale, hag- 
 gard woman-spectre was still seated by the lamp now 
 burned out, the garment and needle in her hand, 
 and that horrible smile upon her features, and that 
 wild eye gazing into vacancy. 
 
 The lamp had burned down and died out in its 
 socket. The lamp of life, too, had waned during that 
 cold, dreary night, and a corpse sat there, holding the 
 needle in the emaciated fingers, and smiling in death. 
 The boy slept against the rigid and pulseless form of 
 the toil-worn, heart-broken, hungered mother. 
 
 That day the officer entered the fireless chamber 
 to remove the dead seamstress. In that dark corner, 
 where the woman was first seen, was the husband. 
 He had been a corpse for more than ten days, and 
 she toiling to escape starvation, and watching with 
 the shroudless, unburied dead. 
 
 The two found a home and an endless rest in " Pot- 
 ter's Field," and the pinched and starving boy, bread 
 in the alms-house.
 
 DEATH IN THE ATTIC. 93 
 
 Another act in the great tragedy of intemperance 
 Lad been played out, and the curtain of wintry clod 
 and snow closed upon the principal actors. The 
 fashionable throng passed from their churches, while 
 the starved paupers went to their graves.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A WEDDING AT THE COTTAGE "ONLY ONE GLASS." 
 
 ACKOSS the stream, upon the overhanging bank, was 
 one of the loveliest spots in the village. The village 
 doctor dwelt here. The cottage was nearly hidden 
 in a dense grove of sugar maples, dotted here and 
 there with green pyramids of the spruce and the fir, 
 and the clean gravel walk wound deviously among 
 the shrubbery from the threshold to the gate, through 
 a rich carpeting of green. Autumn had already 
 commenced its language of beauty upon the foliage; 
 and, mixed with the more copious green of summer, 
 was the golden yellow, with scattering tufts of scarlet' 
 gleaming like wreaths of flame in the pure October 
 sunlight The eaves of the cottage were green with 
 moss, and the wild vines had crept up one corner and 
 clung closely to the old water trough, and dropped in 
 graceful festoons before the quaint old window in the 
 gable. Back of the dwelling were two old pear trees, 
 reaching far up into the sky, and their trunks green 
 with the moss of years. A little farther, and the grape 
 had climbed into a wild plum, and an impenetrable 
 canopy .pf cool green network hung gracefully above 
 the old seat at the roots. Sloping back from the gar- 
 den, was a meadow reaching down until the turf dip-
 
 ONLY ONE GLASS.
 
 A WEDDING AT THE COTTAGE. 97 
 
 ped its long green fringe into the stream. Back of 
 all, the hills beat up against the sky with their robing 
 of dark evergreen, flecked here and there with the 
 crimsoning maple or yellow birch. ' 
 
 One might hunt for years and not find a lovlier 
 spot. 
 
 Ten years before the time of which we are writing, 
 there was sorrow in the old cottage. The sun smiled 
 sweetly in the west and into the high old windows, 
 but there were dark shadows on hearts within. An 
 old man was wrestling with death. Delirium was 
 upon him, and he raved in his madness of a stranger 
 name, an'd cursed and died. The orphan child who 
 had never known a mother, wept in all the bitterness 
 of childhood's grief upon the corpse of her father. 
 She knew not that the madness which swept the sky 
 of his life's last evening, was the madness of the bowl. 
 She found herself alone in the old cottage, a beaiiti 
 ful, sorrowing orphan. 
 
 But childhood's sorrows pass away. The sun smile^ 
 upon the tear-drops of the passing storm. Ten years 
 went by, and the orphan child had bloomed into 
 faultless womanhood, and moved a star in the 
 circles around her, for she was as good as she was 
 lovely. 
 
 The gifted and noble young Howard had settled in 
 the place and commenced the practice of medicine. 
 His talent, professional skill, and high moral worth, 
 made him at once a favorite. He was a young man 
 of rare promise, though without means. His practice
 
 98 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 ted him to form the acquaintance of the lovely orphan, 
 and a strong mutual attachment sprang up between 
 them. 
 
 One evening in June there was a gathering at the 
 cottage, and light-hearted throngs rustled up the 
 walks to the shadowy old porch. Lights streamed 
 from the windows, and pleasant voices went out upon 
 the still and balmy air. Merry groups gathered upon 
 the soft greensward, or tripped with low whispers 
 through the balcony, hidden by green jealousies and 
 pendant boughs. An ocean of pure moonlight bathed 
 the world in its mellow flood. 
 
 A wedding party has gathered Howard and the 
 fair orphan are to stand at the altar. 
 
 All was light and joy in the old cottage. The 
 "Doctor" was a favorite, and the invitation had been 
 general ; and the old and the young of both sexes 
 were gathered on the occasion. 
 
 There was a sound of merry voices floating from 
 the open windows out upon the calm night air, with 
 a pleasant mingling of laughter and music. The par- 
 eon had not yet made his appearance, and spirits 
 were buoyant and tongues unfettered. 
 
 "Is what I hear true, Colonel, about the Doctor? 
 Or is it some neighborhood gossip ? " 
 
 This question was put by Miss Anson, (next to the 
 orphan heiress, the belle of the village,) to Colonel 
 "VVeston, a young and wealthy farmer, as they were 
 promenading arm in arm up and down the gravel 
 walk in front of the mansion.
 
 A "WEDDING AT THE COTTAGE. 99 
 
 " To what do you allude, Miss Anson ? " answered 
 Weston. 
 
 " "Why, have n't you heard ? why, it is the neigh- 
 borhood talk that the Doctor refuses to have wine at 
 his wedding!" 
 
 " Is it possible ! I had not heard it before. But 
 surely he will not so far depart from propriety and 
 fashionable custom, as to treat his friends and guests 
 thus disrespectfully ? " 
 
 " I don't know about that. Miss Knight told me 
 last evening, and she says that Miss Kelson's brother 
 told her, that the Doctor positively refused to have 
 wine at his wedding. I fear there is something 
 in it." 
 
 " Surely," replied the Colonel, in unfeigned aston- 
 ishment, " the Doctor cannot be so beside himself. I 
 know he is somewhat eccentric in these matters, but 
 what unaccountable whim has come over him now?" 
 
 " I don't know. But if he persists, it will do him 
 a great injury. It is already the town talk. Some 
 friend should see him and talk him out of it. Not 
 have wine at a wedding ! and belonging, too, to the 
 first society ? " 
 
 Miss Anson felt indignant at such a contemplated 
 violation of fashion and good breeding, and proceeded 
 to commiserate the feelings of the bride under cir- 
 cumstances so mortifying to her pride and good taste. 
 
 "Well, well," said Colonel "Weston, musingly, 
 " this will never do. I will see Doctor Howard my- 
 self, lie must not take a step so objectionable and
 
 100 MiraTE HEKMON. 
 
 improper. Let me surrender my pleasant post, Misa 
 Anson, to Mr. Mason for a few moments, while I go 
 to do my friend a kindness." 
 
 "I will most cheerfully accept the trust, Colonel 
 "Weston, and shall not look anxiously for your re- 
 turn. Colonel Weston bowed, and passed into the 
 house. 
 
 " Have you heard anything of this strange freak of 
 Doctor Howard, about not having any wine at his 
 wedding, Mr. Mason ? " 
 
 " I suppose I know something of the matter, and 
 must say that I regret that it is true. The house- 
 keeper came yesterday and got the wine at our store, 
 but it was without the knowledge of Howard. Mis 
 tress sent her." 
 
 " How strange you talk ! What on earth can have 
 possessed the man to take such a course ? " 
 
 " Indeed, Miss Anson, it is as strange to me as to 
 all his friends. If he persists in such folly, it will in- 
 jure him most deeply throughout the community. 
 Such a breach of propriety would hardly be for- 
 given." 
 
 " Inj ure him ? indeed it will ! His friends should 
 look to the matter. Colonel Weston has already gone 
 to reason him out of his singular determination. Not 
 have wine at a wedding? Who ever heard of the like?". 
 
 " Let us hope, Miss Anson, that this matter will all 
 yet pass off properly. No one would regret more 
 than myself, such conduct in a gentleman of Doctor 
 Howard's character and standing."
 
 A WEDDING AT THE COTTAGE. 101 
 
 The matter had already got noised about, and other 
 groups were discussing the question with as much 
 earnestness as though the future happiness and posi- 
 tion of the young couple depended upon the circula- 
 tion of wine among the wedding guests. 
 
 While the groups in the yard and on the veranda, 
 were discussing the matter in whispers, there was an- 
 other discussion in the chamber. There was Doctor 
 Howard and his young bride, awaiting the arrival f 
 the parson. 
 
 " Well, Henry," spoke Miss James, in low tones, 
 " I do not wish to insist on having the wine handed 
 around. On my own part, I care nothing about it ; 
 but what will the people say ? " 
 
 " Let us not care, dear one, what people say. I do 
 not like to be a slave to custom, and especially to a 
 custom which I know to be wrong." 
 
 " You speak earnestly, Henry, of a very fashiona 
 ble custom. What objection can you have how do 
 you know it is wrong ? I am sure I am anxious to 
 see the matter in the light that you do, but I fear our 
 friends will be offended if we banish wine on this oc- 
 casion. Do you not \ " 
 
 "They might, but it seems to me that if they knew 
 what I know, they would shun the accursed cup of 
 the enchantress." 
 
 The bride was startled at the depth and energy of 
 Howard's tones, and watched with interest the shad- 
 ows that passed over his fine countenance. There 
 was sadness there, for the gifted and noble man wai
 
 102 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 looking away upon the dark canvass of childhood, 
 <vhere still lingered the scene of a boy, hungry and 
 cold, weeping himself to rest in the lap of a dead 
 mother in the garret. The boy had learned in after 
 years, the cause of his early bereavement and suffer- 
 ing, and shrunk from the glass as he would from a 
 serpent's hiss. 
 
 " No, no," sadly spoke Howard, as he aroused him- 
 slf from his musing, " do not over persuade me in 
 this matter. I may be asking much, but there is a 
 shadow of a coming ill resting upon me, and I cannot 
 shake it off, and it seems strongly associated with this 
 wine business. Agree with me in this, Ellen, and I 
 will bless you always." 
 
 Howard stood before her, and a tear came upon 
 her own lid as she saw his sad face. She laid her 
 hand in his affectionately and smiled. 
 
 " You have conquered let it go as you wish. I 
 will not press you now, but some time hence I will 
 ask you why you so earnestly urge this strange wish, 
 for I am sure there is much behind it all, which you 
 have not told me." 
 
 There was a hush in the room, and the talking 
 
 * o 
 
 nearly ceased the parson had arrived. As his tall 
 form and cold, severe countenance appeared in the 
 hall, a change fell upon the spirits of the company. 
 He bowed stiffly, and turned his dull grey eye search- 
 ingly upon those in the room. That face will become 
 familiar to the reader the parson is Snyder 
 The marriage ceremony was completed. Conver
 
 A WEDDING AT THE COTTAGE. 103 
 
 Bation had just commenced briskly again, when the 
 old house-keeper beckoned Howard from tne hall 
 door. As he passed into the hall, he found young 
 Mason expostulating with the old lady about the wine 
 question. Mason insisted that the wish of Howard 
 was a mere whim, and that, as a friend, he should 
 take the liberty of sending around the wine. This 
 the old lady refused assent to without the knowledge 
 of Howard, and so beckoned him out. 
 
 Upon learning the reason why he was called out, 
 A shade of anger settled upon his features, and he 
 asked sternly why the matter had thus been broached, 
 after his wishes had been made known. 
 
 " Nay, but you must pardon us," replied Mason. 
 " As a friend, I insist that on this occasion you shall 
 not persist in so wide a departure from the customs 
 of well-regulated society. You wrong yourself and 
 give offence to your friends. The people will think, 
 Howard, that you are mad." 
 
 - " I do not see," replied Howard, promptly, " why 
 the people, as you call them, should interfere or med- 
 dle with a matter of this kind, which only concerns 
 me and mine. I have my own reasons for this de- 
 parture from what you call the customs of well-regu- 
 lated society a custom, however, which, permit rne 
 honestly to affirm, it were far more honorable to re- 
 pudiate than to adopt. If you are my friends, you 
 ought not to insist longer upon this violation of my 
 earnest wishes. You will pardon my seeming 
 warmth, for you who know me will believe that I
 
 104: 
 
 MINNIE HKKMON. 
 
 have reasons for my course which are satisfactory to 
 myself." 
 
 Howard turned on his heel and was passing through 
 the group which had gathered, when Colonel Weston 
 came up he having learned the subject under dis- 
 cussion. The Colonel was an impulsive, frank, bold 
 man, and had already tested the wine by the favor of 
 the old house-keeper. 
 
 "High times, indeed, Howard, when you delib- 
 erately attempt to freeze up the happiness of this oc 
 casion, by withholding that which gives joy its purest 
 flow. As a commanding officer, I shall order you 
 under arrest, and declare martial law. Mason, fol- 
 low me." 
 
 With a laugh and a graceful bow, Colonel Weston 
 tnrned away, followed by Mason. Howard passed 
 slowly into the parlor, where he had hardly entered 
 into the gayeties of the occasion, when in came Wes- 
 ton and Mason, with the server and wine. A deep 
 red flush passed over Howard's face as he saw them, 
 and his eye kindled with anger. On any other occa- 
 sion he would have openly resented the insult. But 
 he was taken by surprise, and remained in his seat, 
 feeling deeply indignant. 
 
 Weston came up and handed the wine to the bride. 
 She looked doubtingly in the face of Howard, and 
 mechanically took a glass from the server. 
 
 " Kay, my noble friend," said Weston, as he passed 
 it to Howard, " no frowns, for I am alone responsible. 
 But, sir, you surely will follow Mrs. Howard's exaru
 
 A WEDDING AT THE COTTAGE. 105 
 
 pie, and take a glass of wine on your wedding night." 
 There was a silence in the room and all eyes were 
 turned" upon the parties. More especially were the 
 guests watching Howard. The silence was embar- 
 rassing, and the bride looked appealingly to him to 
 relieve her from the unpleasant position. The wine 
 trembled in her hand, and the smile passed from her 
 face as she saw the half-sad, half-angry expression 
 upon that ol her husband. 
 
 None knew the mad whirl of Howard's thoughts, 
 or saw the dark vision passing before him. Twenty 
 years later, and none of this decision and moral cour- 
 age would have hesitated a moment. But an old and 
 dangerous custom was hanging over him, and he 
 knew not which way to turn or what to do. His bet- 
 ter angel bent sadly over him, watching the wily 
 efforts of the tempter to fasten the first cords of the 
 fatal mesh upon a new victim. 
 
 "Take it, Howard," urged Weston, with a smile, 
 "one glass would not harm an angel. This is a night 
 and an occasion to honor with the flowing beaker. 
 "We must wish you and your bride long years of hap- 
 piness in the future in the mellow blood of the grape. 
 Yon surely will not disappoint your friends on your 
 wedding night." 
 
 "Weston bent his eye full upon Howard with a win- 
 ning smile, and held the full glasses nearer to him. 
 Huward, alone within himself, wrestled bravely 
 against the wily approach of the insidious enemy, 
 and he lifted his eyes to his bride, the full round
 
 MTXXIE HERMON. 
 
 drops stood thickly upon a brow more than usually 
 pale, and his features wore an expression of pain. 
 
 " Why, how ungallant you are Doctor Howard re- 
 fuse a glass of wine on your wedding night, and 
 your lady waiting your action ! Colonel, shall we 
 drink to the bride ? Surely so lovely a one deserves 
 such a compliment upon such an occasion." 
 
 Weston followed the example of Miss Anson, and 
 they both stood with glasses in hand. The bride 
 leaned towards Howard and whispered in his ear : 
 
 " One glass just this once, for my sake, and never 
 again." 
 
 "Never again!" 
 
 The company started as the words were echoed in 
 a deep measured tone from some unknown source. 
 But no one chose to speak of the occurrence, and Miss 
 Anson, looking towards the spot where ' the parson 
 was standing, said : 
 
 " You, reverend sir, will have to set this refractory 
 gallant an example, and with "VYeston and myself, 
 drink to the bride. Should he not drink ? " 
 
 Elder Snyder stepped forward and took a glass. 
 Now, at the appeal of the bride, however, Howard 
 had reached out to take one from the server, when the 
 company were again startled by that mysterious 
 voice. 
 
 "Touch it not!" 
 
 Elder Snyder frowned and raised himself to his full 
 height, as he turned his eyes upon all in the room, to 
 Bee who had dared to interrupt the charm which was
 
 A WEDDISG AT THE COTTAGE. 107 
 
 weaving. Pale and embarrassed, Howard sat with 
 the cup in his hand, that gaze still fixed upon some 
 scene hidden from the gaze of the guests. It was a 
 scene for the pencil. The party had gathered in a 
 group, the tall form and dark features of the false 
 teacher, the manly-looking Weston, and the light form 
 of the beautiful Miss Anson leaning slightly against 
 his shoulder, the lovely bride, and the victim yielding 
 slowly to the coils which were closing round him. 
 It was a noble group of noble men and fair 
 women, and yet one over which a good angel might 
 have wept. 
 
 "This," said the pastor, as he held the glass be- 
 tween his eyes and the lamp, "is one of the good gifts 
 of God to man, the blood of the grape, the beverage 
 of the high, the noble and the good of all ages. It 
 
 " And of the lost and the damned!" 
 
 All turned to see whence came that voice, now 
 more startingly energetic and ringing with bitter- 
 ness. A deeper frown gathered on the features of 
 Elder Snyder, and he, in dogged tones, continued : 
 
 " It is a beverage which our Saviour used. He 
 made it at the wedding (the Elder emphasized the 
 word,) and dispensed it at the last supper. The 
 Scriptures plainly enjoin the use of wine. !Noah 
 drinked it, it was given to those that were ready to 
 perish, it maketh the heart merry, cureth our infirm- 
 ities, and causeth the poor to forget his poverty, and 
 the afflicted their sorrow. It gives a man strength 
 and joy, and enables him to bear more cheerfully the
 
 108 MIXXIE HERMON. 
 
 changing scenes of life. The Redeemer made and 
 drank wine. It would be sinful for 'us to set at 
 naught such teachings, and put away so great a bles- 
 sing. I will drink to the happiness of those whom 
 God has this night joined together." 
 
 Elder Snyder turned off the wine with the air of 
 one who expected all to follow his example. And 
 they all did, Howard among the rest. 
 
 " At last it stingeth like an adder and biteth like a 
 serpent I " 
 
 "Who is that?" angrily asked Elder Snyder, as 
 that strange and startling voice again fell like a ser- 
 pent's hiss upon the ears of the company. 
 
 " The lost one of a false teacher!" slowly came 
 back in reply, with more thrilling distinctness than 
 before. All eyes were turned toward the veranda 
 window, where now stood a tall, broad-shouldered 
 man, dressed in a coarse suit of sailor's clothes, a 
 weather-beaten tarpaulin on his head, and his hair 
 standing out wiry and matted under the broad brim. 
 His eye was grossly red. and was cast full upon the 
 group, at last resting keenly and firmly upon Elder 
 Snyder. There was a fearful intensity in the gaze, 
 and the sallow features of the pastor reddened and 
 glowed with increased anger. 
 
 "From whence do you come, and why are you 
 
 Lore to intrude upon respectable people?" angrily 
 
 continued Elder Snyder, as he walked menacingly 
 
 towards the window. 
 
 " Came from my mother's grave to see a wine-bib-
 
 A WEDDING AT THE COTTAGE. 109 
 
 bing priest, and only one glass at a wedding! 
 Ha, ha.'" 
 
 The strange and unaccountable apparition turned 
 away, and that peculiar wild and sneering laughter 
 rung shrill upon the air, and fell like an omen of evil 
 upon the darkened heart of Howard. 
 
 " Only one glass ! " And will it be so, reader \
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 FIRST FRUITS. 
 
 ON the morning after the wedding, Doctor Howard 
 arose with an aching head and troubled thoughts. 
 The "only one glass" had been the voice ofthe 
 tempter; but once launched on the treacnerous ride, 
 he was driven away from shore. Friends grew more 
 friendly as wine went round, and glass followed glass 
 until Howard the resolute and strong-willed How- 
 ard reeled on his wedding night. He became wild 
 as the subtle currents shot through his veins, and by 
 the time the company dispersed, his garrulous and 
 elavering nonsense had pained and mortified his truest 
 friends. Yet not one of them for the first moment 
 felt that they had contributed to the disgrace of their 
 friend. But such things were not looked upon then 
 as now, and the guests went to their homes, mellow 
 themselves, and as ready to get mellow again on 
 the morrow. 
 
 It was early when Howard dressed himself and 
 passed out into the cool morning air. Its breath was 
 grateful to his hot and throbbing brow, but it reached 
 not the throbbing thoughts in his heart. "As you 
 value your soul's interest, remember your mother 
 never touch the intoxicating cup / He felt the words 
 of that mother burning like a brand upon his feverish
 
 A COMMON SIGHT IN OAKVALE.
 
 FIKST FRUITS. 
 
 cheek, and her eyes looking into his heart. In a let- 
 ter left for his perusal, Howard had learned the his- 
 tory of his mother the ruin and horrible death of 
 his father ; and it all now came before him, until he 
 shrunk within himself as from accusing spectres. 
 
 The man who never takes the first step from the 
 path of right is never endangered. That step once 
 taken, others follow with fearful ease. The anchor 
 once lifted from the heart's integrity, the vessel drifts 
 away before the storms that beat in from every quar- 
 ter. To-day a man stands firm, and looks proudly in 
 the face of his fellows, and feels himself a man. He 
 lias his own self-respect. To-morrow he is for once 
 induced to step aside, and like a breach in the wall 
 the enemy comes in like a flood. A trifling act in 
 itself the one glass drinked with a friend, may 
 seal the fate of the unwary. 
 
 Howard had lost strength. He had been beaten 
 in the contest beaten when he felt that he was 
 right. The idea of being a drunkard had not yet oc- 
 curred to him. It was only his own loss of firmness 
 and self-respect, and a shadowy sense of some un- 
 known danger, that now weighed him down. 
 
 The festivities which followed the wedding were 
 not calculated to fasten the resolutions which were 
 giving away. "Wine was everywhere, and everybody 
 used it. He himself began to think that it would be 
 a bold and unpardonable breach of custom to refuse 
 it with his friends. The decanter and tumbler seemed 
 to be the insignia of fashionable society. Thus he
 
 114: MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 reasoned as day followed day and glass followed 
 glass, the strong and noble purpose which had been 
 so sacredly cherished to the noon of his manhood, 
 growing less strong under the steady approaches of 
 the tempter. 
 
 On the day after the meeting of the board, Howard 
 was riding rapidly up the road, when he was accosted 
 from the steps of the " Home." 
 
 " Halloo, Howard ! "Where now at that break-neck 
 pace? Hold'up a minute." 
 
 . The voice was Colonel Weston's, and, as Howard 
 turned his head, he saw a number of people standing 
 on the stoop. His first impulse was to put spurs to 
 his horse, but Weston was a favorite friend, and he 
 reined up. As Weston came up and laid his hand 
 on the mane of the horse, Howard noticed that he 
 was considerably under the influence of liquor. There 
 was a silly leer upon his countenance, and his man- 
 ner had that bold and half insolent air about it, so 
 contrary to his usually quiet and gentlemanly de- 
 meanor. 
 
 "Whoop! my (hie) boy, which way, I say?" 
 and the Colonel grasped tightly the arm of Howard, 
 and roughly attempted to pull him from the saddle. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Colonel, but you will not 
 detain me, for I am in haste to call on a sick pa- 
 tient. "
 
 FIRST FKUTrS. 115 
 
 "Devil take your patient; you must get off ana 
 take a drink," and again, with that strong grasp pe- 
 culiar to drunken men, Weston wrenched him nearly 
 from his saddle. 
 
 "You must get off and take a drink. Why, I 
 haven't seen you before since your wedding. Get 
 off, old boy, I say, and drink with us ! " and he 
 fetched Howard a heavy slap on the thigh with the 
 awkwardness peculiar to those in liquor, and laughed 
 boisterously. 
 
 Howard was shocked, and mildly essayed to re- 
 lease himself from the Colonel's grasp. 
 ' " No you don't, my boy ; you must drink. Soldiers, 
 unhorse (hie) him," and he led the horse up the steps 
 into the stoop, amid the laughter of the half-drunken 
 crowd. 
 
 Howard was fairly pulled from his saddle and led 
 into the bar-room and the liquor called on. 
 
 "One drink, Doctor, with your friends," as he 
 bowed and played the buffoon before the bar. How- 
 ard remained silent while the liquors were mixing. 
 As Weston took his glass from the counter, he again 
 essayed to release himself by pleading haste to see 
 his patient. 
 
 "IsTo you don't, Doctor you must drink with us," 
 and he handed another glass to Howard. 
 
 The latter took it mechanically, and was about to 
 set it on the counter, when the Colonel grasped it, 
 and, setting down his own, wound his left arm around 
 Howard's neck, attempted to pour the liquor down
 
 116 
 
 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 his throat. The act was so quick that the latter had 
 not time to close his mouth before the glass was be- 
 tween his teeth, and the liquor running down his face 
 and neck into his bosom. He strangled badly, which 
 pleased the rum-maddened crowd all the more, 
 "Weston was wild with rum, and swore that Howard 
 should drink. The latter grew indignant and began 
 to denounce such rudeness. Weston caught another 
 tumbler of the liquor which had been prepared, and 
 sprung upon Howard with all the reckless, frenzied 
 strength of partial intoxication, crowding the glass 
 against his lips and teeth until the blood mingled 
 with the stains of the brandy from the corners of his 
 mouth. 
 
 '% ! Doctor, you must take in your bits," 
 
 continued Weston, and, in the excitement of the mo 
 ment, he caught Howard by the throat, and continued 
 pushing the now empty glass into his open and bleed- 
 ing mouth. The crowd were all wild with merriment, 
 and stood upon the chairs and benches to see the 
 sport. Weston set the glass down upon the counter 
 and called for more liquor. Hermon poured it out. 
 As Weston, with his hand yet clinched in the Doc- 
 tor's cravat, was passing the glass again to his lips, 
 against his indignant expostulations, Howard released 
 his right arm from the tipsy fellow who was holding 
 it, and dealt Weston a blow on the temple which laid 
 him prostrate on the floor. There was stillness for a 
 moment, and Howard was released from the grasp of 
 those who were holding him. A* Weston came to
 
 FIRST FKTJITS. 117 
 
 and began to rise, he literally frothed with rage, and 
 sprung at the Doctor like a madman. The latter 
 evaded his clutch, and he plunged headlong amongst 
 the crowd. 
 
 " For shame ! Are ye men or devils ? " All were 
 startled at the sound of a female voice, and, as they 
 turned, saw Minnie Hermon standing in the stairway, 
 pale and trembling, but her eyes kindling at the scene 
 before her. A rocket could not have produced more 
 confusion among them. The majority abruptly went 
 out, leaving Weston, now abashed and cowering, and 
 Hermon, alone behind the bar. Howard washed his 
 face at the pump and rode away, and, as he thought 
 over the scene in the bar-room of the " Home," a sigh 
 came from his heart and a tear from his eye. He 
 looked at his bruised hand, and wondered how he 
 came to strike one he esteemed so much. 
 
 But there will be stranger scenes there. 
 
 Deacon McGarr lived just below the " Home," and 
 on the afternoon of the same day the affair occurred 
 which we have related, he was to have a wagon-house 
 raised. As a matter of course, rum must be had at a 
 " raising." A two-gallon jug was sent to the " Home " 
 and filled, and the hands invited. Deacon McGarr 
 had drinked liberally in the earlier part of the day, 
 and felt happy and witty. About one o'clock the 
 hands began to gather, and very naturally lingered 
 on the stoop and steps of- the "Home." "When the 
 hour came for commencing operations, McGarr came 
 over, and, for the purpose of supporting the new tav
 
 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 era, " treated all round." In high glee the company 
 then followed him to the ground and commenced 
 operations. 
 
 To those who are familiar with the drinking usages 
 of other days, we need not speak in detail of a " rais- 
 ing." Enough to say that horns of whisky were 
 deemed just as absolutely necessary as pikes or pins. 
 As each "bent" was raised to its place, the jug was 
 "passed round" by some boy, accompanied by one 
 with a pail of cold water. As soon as a " bent " was 
 raised, some of the more active ones mounted to the 
 top. By the time the plates were ready to go on, a 
 number were thus gathered above, and the jug must 
 be passed up and welcomed by such. Before the 
 building was all up, a large class was noisy and 
 mellow. 
 
 Among others who first went upon the frame, was 
 "Weston. Naturally athletic, he now felt doubly so 
 under the influence of his deep potations. McGarr 
 would have persuaded him from the dangerous risk, 
 but Weston was reckless. 
 
 The plates were framed to go on to the ends of the 
 beams, requiring much care in holding them and en- 
 tering the tenons. The timbers were yet damp from 
 the rain during the night, and required caution in 
 handling them without accident. The ends of the 
 .plates were first carried up to the beams, then car- 
 ried forward and balanced up and shoved to their 
 places, preparatory to entering the tenons. When 
 ready to carry out, a man lay down and locked his
 
 FIRST FRUITS. 119 
 
 arms around the beam, and with his feet against the 
 plate, pushed it as it lay, as near the tenons as was 
 safe. Weston was at the end, and straightened with 
 all his strength, and the piece slid upon the slippery 
 beam near a foot and a half clear from his feet. A dozen 
 voices from below earnestly cautioned him to be care- 
 ful if the plate should go off it would kill some one. 
 
 " Let 'em look out for themselves," he replied, with 
 a peculiar laugh, and again backed until his feet 
 reached the timber, and then straightened with all 
 his power. There was a yell from twenty voices be- 
 low, and the heavy stick fell to the ground. A sharp 
 cry of pain told its effect. Hermon's leg was under 
 it, and ground to a pumice. The groans of the 
 wounded man, as he was borne bleeding to the 
 " Home," sobered Weston, as he saw the result of his 
 folly, and the big drops gathered on his brow. Si- 
 lently and thoughtfully he went from the frame, and 
 passed after the group to the tavern. 
 
 " Come, boys," said Gaston, the blacksmith, " we 
 can do no good over there, let's up with the plate 
 again, and put on the rafters." 
 
 Another drink round and they took hold with a 
 will, for Gaston set them an example. The stick was 
 soon in its place and the rafters up. 
 
 Young McGarr was the last one standing on the 
 ridge. His father saw that he had drank too much, 
 and called him down. He started to obey, but met 
 the jug again coming up, and took a drink with the 
 rest. The hot draught made him bold and reckless, and
 
 120 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 he swore he would walk the ridge-pole with jug la 
 hand before he left the frame. No entreaty or threat- 
 ening could change his mad determination, and he 
 clambered carelessly to the ridge. They watched 
 him with breathless attention, for it was plain to see 
 that he^was intoxicated. Deacon McGarr was pale, 
 and his lip was pressed between his teeth until the 
 blood started from under them. 
 
 Young McGarr succeeded in walking the entire 
 length, and, as he arrived at the end, he turned, and, 
 swinging the jug in the air, huzza'd and turned it up 
 to his lips. As he threw his head back in the act, 
 he fell from the ridge, his head striking upon a green 
 beech log, and his body doubling lifelessly down in a 
 heap. McGarr shrieked and jumped to save his boy, 
 and the shriek was echoed with more piercing, soul- 
 harrowing distinctness from the house, where the 
 boy's mother had been watching the scene with 
 trembling lips and limb. Gaston lifted the boy in 
 his arms, leaving masses of his brains upon the log 
 and ground, and the blood ebbing out with a spin- 
 ning sound from the crushed head. The mother 
 looked once upon the bleeding and disfigured mass, 
 and sank insensible to the ground. On a board the 
 crushed boy was borne to the house, while equally a8 
 tenderly the corpse-like mother was carried after in 
 the arms of Gaston. Deacon McGarr followed like a 
 child in his first great sorrow. The jug was left in 
 fragments, thickly sprinkled with the blood of the 
 young victim.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE AUTHOB TALKS A LAPSE OF TEN TEAKS IN OUB 
 
 HISTORY THE CHANGE. 
 
 IN one of the villages of Pennsylvania it is writ- 
 ten the members of the excise board were assem- 
 bled, as usual, for the purposes of granting licenses 
 for the sale of intoxicating liquors. After smoking, 
 and chatting upon general subjects for a time, the 
 customary motion was put, and opportunity given for 
 remark. Up in one corner of the room the attenua- 
 ted form of a woman arose, spectral-like in features, 
 and meanly clad, and looking upon the members pres- 
 ent from sockets hollow and ghastly. In tones of 
 sadness, growing more full and intense as she pro- 
 ceeded, the strange intruder commenced a history of 
 sorrow, of ruin and wrong, which fell upon the aston- 
 ished group like a spell. Her form raised as she 
 gathered strength, and her tones grew fierce, and a 
 hectic flush came out upon the palid cheek. Fixed 
 to their seats and gazing upon the kindling eye, the 
 excisemen listened to the blistering record. From 
 the smouldering ruins of life's hopes blasted, the sca- 
 thing truths leaped out. She had heard of their 
 meeting, and from the almshouse came forth to de- 
 nounce the wickedness they were about to commit. 
 Tiers had been the history of thousands a history
 
 MINNIE IIEKMON. 
 
 now being wrought out in thousands of hearts and 
 homes. Across the river, a luxurious home, a noble 
 husband, and three promising sons had woven her 
 life's happiness with the golden woof of light and 
 love. They were tempted and fell. The home pass- 
 ed into the tempter's hands, her husband and children 
 to premature graves, and she to the pauper's home. 
 Years of darkness and anguish could be known only 
 to the God of the widow and the fatherless. " You 
 see me now," she continued, with her tall form lean- 
 ing forward and her long finger extended and trem- 
 bling with emotion, resting unerringly upon the mem- 
 bers of the board, " and know from whence I come. 
 You know my history, and hew bitterly all my hopes 
 of this world have been wrecked. And you, sirs, 
 caused it all. At your store my husband learned to 
 drink, and you dwell in my home. You, false teach- 
 er," pointing to a deacon, " lured my noble boys to 
 your grocery, and they now are in drunkards' graves. 
 
 You destroyed them. But for you, husband, sons 
 
 all might have now blessed my old age. I have come 
 from the county poor-house to lift a voice against 
 your acts. Look at me, and then if you dare, before 
 high Heaven, grant licenses to sell intoxicating 
 drinks!" 
 
 The silence of death rested upon the listeners to 
 the pauper's freezing words, interrupted only as one 
 after another of the cowering officials stole like guilty 
 wretches from the room, not staying to accomplish 
 the work for which they assembled. From her quiv-
 
 THE AUTHOR TALKS THE CHANGE. 123 
 
 ering finger the words had fallen like drops of blis- 
 tering lava into their coward hearts. 
 
 As the mind has swept back through the history 
 of the past, we have often thought of the pauper and 
 her speech. If those who suifer if the ragged and 
 the sorrowing, should come from their abodes of 
 wretchedness, where, unseen, the scalding tear and the 
 heavy sigh mark the crushing progress of woe, and 
 in squalid garb and touching mien, gather around the 
 excise boards of our country, and raise their protest 
 against the wrong, we doubt whether there is a mem- 
 ber of these bodies so utterly lot to every feeling of 
 sympathy and shame as to put his name to the license 
 of death. Let the sorrowing mother upon her staff, 
 with her thin, white hairs, going 'down in sorrow to 
 the grave, totter to the board, and with a dim eye and 
 shaking voice, speak of children murdered, and an 
 old heart running over with bitter memories. Let a 
 wife steal forth from a home where a husband- 
 demon reigns in the domestic hell. Yoked to a living 
 corpse, she stands up with a ragged babe in her arms 
 a weeping heart attempting to shield the tenderest 
 and most innocent of her idols from the storm and 
 with every hope buried in ruin, she demands why 
 her home is desolated, her heart broken, and her 
 babes robbed of bread. The sister comes, and with 
 wringing hands claims that the noble and manly-heart- 
 ed brother should be restored, for she has wept over 
 him and clung to him with a sister's changeless love 
 her tears, and prayers", and holy affection weaker than
 
 124 
 
 MINNIE HEBMON. 
 
 the gossamer web against the stronger than iron 
 chains that bound him. Orphan children throng from 
 hut and hovel, and public asylum, and lift their child- 
 ish hands in supplication, asking at the hands of the 
 guilty, those who rocked their cradles, and fed, and 
 loved them. The maniac comes, and in insane gib- 
 berish and glaring eye, stares upon the " Court of 
 Death." The murderer, now sober and crushed, lifts 
 his manacled hands, red with blood, and charges 
 his ruin his own and his children's infamy, upon 
 those who commission the Angel of the Plague. The 
 felon comes from his prison tomb, the pauper from his 
 dark retreat, where rum has driven him to , seek an 
 evening's rest and a pauper's grave. From the grave 
 the sheeted dead stalk forth, and in spectral ranks 
 gather around the scene, the eyeless sockets turned 
 upon the actors, and the bared teeth grinning most 
 ghastly scorn. The lost float up in shadowy forms, 
 and wail in whispered despair. Demons, who rejoice 
 in wrongs which make men more devilish than they, 
 blush at the more than infernal wrong. Angels 
 turn weeping away, and wonder that man can love 
 his brother man, and still license the destruction of 
 his hopes for two worlds. God upon his throne looks 
 in anger upon the stupendous iniquity, and hurls a 
 woe upon the hand which putteth the bottle to a 
 neighbor's lip to make him drunken. Were every 
 excise board girt by such an array, no man on earth 
 would make himself an instrument in all this destruc- 
 tion. But their guilt is really the same. The.injured .
 
 THE AUTHOR TALKS THE CHANGE. 125 
 
 old mothers, the wives and the sisters, are found 
 wherever rum is sold. The orphans plead eloquently 
 in every community. The asylum, the alms-house, 
 the dungeon and the scaffold bear their evidence, 
 written in the unmistakable language of tears and 
 blood. The dead heave their sodded graves on every 
 hand, and revelation turns shudderingly away from 
 the dark future of the thousands who die as the 
 months roll round, while above, a God who counts the 
 sparrows as they fall, sits in judgment and takes note 
 of all. And yet we write with a burning cheek 
 the excise boards of a free people meet with cool in- 
 difference and ask of a reckless few, " How many 
 pieces of silver will you give us if we will betray the 
 wives and the children the helpless and the inno- 
 cent, into your hands How many ! " The tribute 
 is paid, and the people, with the price of blood in 
 their coffers, hold the garments, while their licensed 
 instruments stone men, women and children to death ! 
 
 No sane man on earth, if the fountains of evil 
 were forever sealed, would ask that they might be 
 again opened. Then why, in the name of crushed 
 humanity and a hoped-for heaven, will men cling to 
 the waning destinies of the monster iniquity ? 
 
 The pursuit of an honorable avocation is. a benefit 
 to community. In the intercourse of trade, there is 
 an equivalent rendered. TJTe interests of the produ- 
 cer and the consumer are mutually advanced. In 
 dustry produces an aggregate prosperity and secures 
 a prompt and adequate reward. Upright and perse-
 
 120 
 
 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 vering labor, in any branch of business, vibratea 
 through the whole social system, and helps to build 
 up, adorn, and strengthen every honorable interest. 
 The craftsman, the merchant, the professional man, 
 the agriculturist all who live by honest toil, are 
 benefactors, and each fills an appropriate and neces- 
 sary place in the social structure. There is no special 
 regulation of these interests. They are useful and 
 indispensable. Their pursuit tends to the general 
 good. They do not exist or prosper at the ruin or 
 extinction of others. The tradesman does not find 
 the mercantile profession a legalized monopoly, and 
 himself precluded, by penal statutes, from selling 
 such as his neighbors sell. Talent and application 
 master the legal and the medical professions, and the 
 young man goes out to build up'his fortunes where- 
 ever his prospects lure the brightest. The blacksmith 
 asks no license to wield his hammer. The farmer 
 does not annually ask and pay for a permit to put in 
 his crops, to harvest and to sell. Whoever buys of 
 him gets an equivalent for his money ; and order, har- 
 mony and increase, mark the machinery of society. 
 But what a disturbing element is rum, in all soci- 
 ety ! It is the Pandorian box of unadulterated evil, 
 with hardly a hope at the bottom. Nowhere on the 
 green earth of God has it proved other than an un- 
 mixed curse. There is not a redeeming fact in its 
 history. A darker, more cheerless, beaconless waste, 
 never stretched away before the misguided pilgrim. 
 There is not a ray of sunshine in ages of gloom. The
 
 THE AUTHOR TALKS THE CHANGE. 127 
 
 most ardent and honest friend of the rum traffic can- 
 not point to one blessing it has conferred upon man 
 since its first footprints cursed the earth. We have 
 seen the system in its palmy days, but it was the 
 plague in mid-day strength, stalking from house to 
 house, its presence withering the greenness of the 
 happiest life, and filling the land with wailing and 
 unutterable woe. Commissioned by government, it 
 has gone forth, the Angel of the Plague, and happy 
 for hearts and homes, if they mourned for none but 
 the first-born. In palace or hovel in wealth or 
 want, the shadow has fallen upon man and his hopes, 
 the one to sicken and die, and the other to wither. 
 It enters society branded as an enemy. The very power 
 which sends it to our villages and hamlets, has writ- 
 ten its character. It glides over our threshold in fet- 
 ters, society mockingly decking its tail with regula- 
 ting enactments, and leaving every fang bared fot 
 the work of death, and from tens of thousands of 
 retreats endorsed and protected by government, the 
 monsters go hissing forth with the injunction to deso- 
 late and kill within the prescribed limits, and accord- 
 ing to law. The thief is imprisoned and the murder- 
 er is put out of the way ; but here is a worse than a 
 thief or a murderer the subtle embodiment of all 
 crime, allowed to carry on its devilish work under re- 
 etrictions, and the effects sanctioned by legislation. 
 It never yet entered a community without proving a 
 curse. Some man has been degraded ; some wife 
 has been made to weep in anguish ; some child has
 
 128 MINXIE HEKMCHSr. 
 
 been turned out of door to go hungry for bread 
 some pauper has been sent to the almshouse, or felon 
 to the dungeon ; some scene of blood and violence 
 has been perpetrated, and the maddened instrument 
 sent to the scaffold ; some family has prematurely 
 found a rest in the grave, and an escape from woes 
 which will ever beggar description. 
 
 Oakvale was not an exception. A lovelier, more 
 peaceful hamlet of happy settlers, was never hidden 
 among the hills. Years went by, and scarce a cloud 
 had fallen upon the cordial and friendly intercourse 
 which had marked the history of the mountain re 
 treat. The lives of the people passed with the calm- 
 ness and purity of a summer's day. Scarce a ripple 
 disturbed the sylvan quiet of the scene. Inddstry, 
 virtue, integrity and kindly feeling marked the un- 
 restrained intercourse of the genial and true-hearted 
 people. The streets were quiet, only as stirred by th 
 silver-voiced happiness of the schoolchildren, and the 
 game of ball, the wrestle, or the leaping match, were 
 the noisiest sports which awoke the quiet of the vil- 
 lage green. The path to the village church was well 
 beaten, and all was neat about the unpretending 
 structure. The dwellings wore an air of comfort and 
 thrift, and the yards and grounds were neat and at- 
 tractive. The Sunday school was full, the Sabbath 
 universally regarded, and the old-fashioned notions of 
 truth and honor deeply rooted in a majority of hearts. 
 Age was respected, and the white-haired grand-sires 
 went down to their graves like the shocks fully ripened
 
 THE AUTHOR TALKS THE CHAXGE. 129 
 
 for the harvest. The moustache and the rattan were 
 unknown the dice table, and the saloon. The 
 young men were stalwart framed and industrious. 
 Pianos^ fashionable calls, and indolence in the parlor, 
 were scarcely known, and yet there was true refine- 
 ment ; and from the kitchen, full, rounded forms and 
 hearts all womanly passed out to mingle better cur- 
 rents in the busy world. Litigation was unknown ; 
 for each minded his own affairs, kept his fences up, 
 kept his cattle and hogs within bounds, and treated 
 his neighbor with kindness and sincerity. No gun 
 ever broke upon the Sabbath stillness, nor boisterous 
 gathering filled the streets ; but the seasons came with 
 their promise, and its harvest fulfillment, their flocks 
 and herds, and household industry prospered, and 
 peace, plenty, and contentment, the love of virtue 
 and the fear of God, made Oakvale a spot where the 
 current of life coursed ever with an even flow. 
 
 It was years afterwards, and when the population 
 and business of Oakvale had greatly increased, that 
 the " Home " was opened in the village. Ten years 
 more had gone by, and what a transformation ! It 
 seemed incredible, and the stranger who saw it in its 
 earlier history, would look sadly upon the change, and 
 believe it wrought by some infernal magic. The 
 rural neatness and quiet were there no more. The 
 "Home" was a floodgate through which a thou- 
 sand pernicious and evil influences swept in upon the 
 society of the peaceful vale, a fatal undercurrent, un- 
 dermining industry and virtue, and mingling the
 
 130 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 most corrupting influences with, the thoughts and 
 habits of the people. From occasional visits to the 
 tavern, the practice increased, until scarce one of the 
 male population, was not in the habit of spending his 
 evenings at the tavern. A love of gossip was soon 
 engendered, and every man's business and conduct 
 was at times made the subject of conversation. In 
 the conversation of the people, the change was as 
 marked as in everything else. As the youth and the 
 children listened, they caught the infection, and the 
 oath, the rude and coarse speech, came from mouths 
 prematurely foul by bad example and association. 
 Ill-breeding soon marked the x language of the boys, 
 and slang phrases were current and eagerly learned 
 and banded with a gusto. A low-bred pettifogger 
 had followed in the wake of " business," and petty 
 lawsuits were frequent, and always held at the tav- 
 ern, drawing a crowd whenever held. Fights were 
 of common occurrence, or petty disputes engendered 
 in ill blood ; and discord crept strangely in between 
 families where years of uninterrupted harmony had 
 marked their intercourse. Additional liquor shops, 
 under the euphonious name of " saloons," had been 
 opened, " ball-alleys " and " billiard-rooms." These 
 places were a rendezvous on the Sabbath, the youth 
 deserting the church for the dram-shop. They are 
 ever craters of obscenity and profanity, and the youth 
 of Oakvale were fast graduating in these devilish 
 schools. The nights were occasionally hideous with 
 unearthly yelliugs. Balls and " oyster parties " were
 
 THE AUTHOR TALKS THE CHANGE. 131 
 
 frequent, and respectable young men, at such times, 
 were seen intoxicated. The blacksmith was often 
 seen setting upon the steps of the " Home " in hia 
 leathern apron, and customers coming from his shop 
 after him. The miller would leave his grist, and 
 staid farmers would turn aside from their business 
 and drink, and spend an hour in chat. Company 
 and general parades were now held at Oak vale, elec- 
 tions, town-meetings, etc., and drunkenness was com- 
 mon. Horse-racing, also, was frequent, and " turkey 
 shoots," raffling and drinking, with frequent quarrels, 
 and now and then a fight, contributed to demoralize 
 the habits and foster the worst elements of those en- 
 gaged in them. 
 
 " Business " had surely increased in Oakvale, and 
 to the tavern belonged the credit. The change 
 wrought in a few years was broad and impressive,. 
 The farms were neglected, the fences out of repair, 
 and the yards and corners of the fences grown up 
 to weeds. The barns and outhouses were dilapida- 
 ted boards off, and hovels unroofed. Hardly a 
 farm retained the well-ordered and tidy appearance 
 of industrious care, so conspicuous at the commence- 
 ment of our history. Clap-boards were off, chimney 
 tops crumbling away, and window-panes broken, old 
 hats and rags, and pieces of board, indicating, in un- 
 mistakable language, the cause of aU. Some houses 
 were entirely in ruins, and the rank dock standing 
 thickly in the yard, and the winds of winter whistling 
 through the shattered structures. Fences were down
 
 132 MINNIE ITERMON. 
 
 and fields t irned to waste ; the path to the church 
 was overgrown with grass, and the sheds were falling 
 to pieces, and the steps decaying, and the weather- 
 beaten blinds unhinged, or slamming in the winds. 
 The topmost section of the steeple had rotted and 
 been blown off in a storm, and the bell, rusty and 
 bare, frowned silently down upon the general deso- 
 lation. The lightning-rod had been broken, and the 
 end swung loose and unconnected. The village bu- 
 rial-ground had not escaped. Length after length 
 of the board fence had fallen, and the cattle from 
 the streets had broken the stones, and the hogs had 
 rooted over the grounds. Unruly boys had torn 
 away the school-house shed, while whole clapboards 
 had been stripped from the building itself, the lath 
 and the protruding mortar and naked studs, present- 
 ing to the passer-by the very picture of neglect. 
 
 But if the footsteps of intemperance were so blight- 
 ing upon the appearance of buildings and fields, it 
 was still more marked upon the population. The 
 pathways to the groggeries were well beaten by the 
 traveling public. Farms, shops and professions, were 
 neglected. The happiest home had lost its attrac- 
 tions. The ruddy flame upon the evening hearth, the 
 holy communion of the family circle, or the change- 
 less ties of conjugal affection, were rent like threads 
 for the false light of the dramshop. Even the church 
 could not stay the work ; its aisles had long been si- 
 lent ; the dust had gathered upon its communion 
 altar and its Bible, and the spider spun his web in the
 
 THE AUTIIOK TALKS THE CHANGE. 133 
 
 pulpit unmolested. Forms with red and watery eyes, 
 hats with torn crowns, broken tops and distorted 
 brims ; garments thread-bare and ragged, the panta- 
 loons fagged at the ancle and lodged upon gringy- 
 looking boots run over at the heel ; with swollen 
 cheeks, and hands thrust to the elbows into their 
 pockets, were constantly stealing to the dram-shops. 
 By daylight, and before a chimney top had sent up a 
 wreath of smoke, they could be seen standing by the 
 dens, or knocking for admittance, creeping about over 
 the stoops in the meantime, and shivering in tho 
 keen morning cold of the winter. How quickly 
 their ears detected the sound of the bolt as it was 
 drawn, and as quickly tossing the quid into the street 
 and fetching their hand across their thigh as a nap- 
 kin, cleared their throats and entered. They came 
 out with the palms drawn across their lips, gave the 
 hoarse ahem, and in the same manner retraced their 
 steps to their doors. "Women, with countenances pale 
 and furrowed with sorrow and care, and wrapped 
 closely in scanty garb, were seen gliding gloomily 
 through the streets ; and children, their uncovered 
 hands purple in the cold, and their little forms shrink- 
 ing at every breath, and often bending under the 
 burden of the jug, thus bearing to their own homes 
 the cause of their own wretchedness and hunger. 
 
 "Business" had increased ! Oakvale had become 
 a shire town, and two railroads had opened broad 
 thoroiighfares to and from. A courthouse and jail 
 had been erected, and the new state-prison buildings
 
 134: MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 were rapidly going up. Men had died in the drunk- 
 en brawl, by delirium tremens, and in the winter's 
 path ; the widow and her children had gone out from 
 their broken homes to seek an asylum in the county 
 poor-house ; felons were in the jail, or at work on tho 
 prison walls, and red-handed murder had lifted a drip- 
 ping hand at noonday, and the people were feasted 
 with a view of the scaffold and its dangling tribute. 
 A score of groggeries were seething and united in the 
 work of ruin, and Oakvale had become a byword and 
 reproach throughout the country for drunkenness and 
 all its consequent and kindred evils. The change was 
 a sad one, indeed. And yet no plague had come 
 from the hand of God to destroy the people ; no storm 
 had swept down their fences or unroofed their barns 
 and hovels ; and the seasons had ever brought the 
 seed time and harvest. But the blight was there. It 
 rested upon house, and field, and toil ; hunger and 
 wretchedness brooded at the hearth ; families were 
 scattered, and fields turned to waste ; and want, mis- 
 ery, indolence and vice resting like a deathly night- 
 mare upon the quiet and happy hamlet of " long ago." 
 " Business " was increasing 1
 
 CHAJPTEK XI. 
 
 A WINTER SCENE. 
 
 IT \vas$ in early winter, and the hubs lay up rough 
 and bare through the snow. The wind was cutting 
 cold, and shrieked dismally as it swept around the 
 " Home." Scattering flakes of snow were sifting from 
 the cold and sombre sky. People were already gath- 
 ering in the bar-room, for nearly every citizen in the 
 place had learned to love his drams ; and the fire 
 shone most welcomely in the old-fashioned hearth. 
 Hermon, just recovered, in a measure, from a severe 
 fit of sickness, was kneeling before a keg, drawing 
 his morning bitters. One after another the customers 
 went up to the bar and followed the example, con- 
 versation flowing more fluently as the liquor com- 
 menced its effects. 
 
 " Did you see Mat Kicks when he went away last 
 night ? " 
 
 "Yes what of it?" 
 
 ""Why, he was most devilish drunk, if Pm any 
 judge." 
 
 " No live man a better judge," dryly remarked old 
 Barney Kits, already intoxicated, and his lidless balls 
 running water before the fire. A laugh followed the 
 hit, and the speaker continued : 
 6
 
 136 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 " Old Ricks has made a perfect fool of himself 
 lately. He drinks like a fish. They say he abuses 
 his family, too, most shamefully." 
 
 " He is not the only one who does that," again put 
 in old Kits. Lame Tim, the speaker, turned an angry 
 eye upon his tormentor, and chewed his tobacco 
 nervously ; yet he dare not measure wit with the in- 
 veterate wag, as drunk as he was. 
 
 " How is it, Tim," asked Gaston, " has old Ricks' 
 farm all gone ? " 
 
 " O, yes, all gone to smash ; nothing left at all. 
 J knew 't would be so." 
 
 " But his wife had property ? " 
 
 " "Went with the rest. Jones has got it all." 
 
 " Sold his water and whisky well," put in old 
 Barney. 
 
 " But what will become of his family ? " 
 
 " Go to the poor-house, of course. I guess the old 
 woman will come down some in her notions after this. 
 Always was mighty nice feelin'. After all, I could n't 
 help kind o' pittyin' on her when she came down here 
 and cried, and took on so about the spoons her mother 
 gave her swow I could n't." 
 
 A scowl from old Hennon told garrulous old Tim 
 that he had gone too far, and he changed the subject 
 by taking another drink. 
 
 Doctor Howard at that moment drove up, and en- 
 tered the bar-room in his bundle of furs, calling for a 
 hot punch. While warming himself, he remained 
 silent and thoughtful. This was enough for Tim
 
 A WINTER SCENE. 137 
 
 He must know who was sick, what ailed him, and 
 how long they were going to live ; and with a pre- 
 paratory ahem, he commenced : 
 
 " Anybody sick this morning, Doctor ? " 
 
 " No more than usual." 
 
 "I thonght ma'be somebody might be ailin' this 
 mornin'." 
 
 " I presume there is," and the sententious Doctor 
 continued to rub his hands before the welcome blaze. 
 
 " Come from over the hill ? " 
 
 " Came from over the hill." 
 
 Old Barney grinned, and attempted to wink at the 
 discomfited Tim. But the latter loved news next to 
 a dram, and he returned to the attack. 
 
 " Plaguy cold this morning, Doctor ! " 
 
 " Exactly found that out myself." 
 
 " Anybody sick over the hill ? " 
 
 "Nobody sick all dead." 
 
 " Why, nobody but old Ricks' folks lived there. ' 
 
 "Exactly and the folks are dead, or will be." 
 
 " You don't say so ! How 'd they die ? " 
 
 " Go and see," and with the curt answer, Doctor 
 Howard jumped into his sleigh and left. 
 
 There was truth in his briefly told story. On the 
 previous evening, Ricks, with his father, an old rev- 
 olutionary soldier, had caroused at the " Home " un- 
 til a late hour, and with a jug apiece, had started out 
 in the storm, amid many a drunken gibe as they stum- 
 bled over the hubs. In crossing the mountain at day- 
 light, Doctor Howard had found the old man, lying
 
 J.38 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 upon his face, frozen to death ! He had struggled 
 where he had fallen until the hubs were crimsoned 
 with blood, and his face most horribly bruised. His 
 hat lay crushed under his shoulders, and the handle 
 of the broken jug was grasped firmly in death. The 
 enow had lodged in his thin white locks, but his bald 
 head was as bare to the night blast as the crag above 
 him. Doctor Howard turned his horse and drove 
 over the brow of the hill to the dwelling. A childish 
 voice bade him " come in," in answer to his rap, and 
 as he entered, crept into the farther corner. 
 
 Doctor Howard was used to scenes of distress, but 
 he hesitated on the threshold, and stared for a full 
 moment as he stood. It was but a moment, however, 
 and he quickly asked the boy what it all meant. He 
 only answered with a frightened look towards the 
 bed. There lay Ricks, snoring in the deep slumbers 
 of drunkenness, his clothes on, and the uncorked jug 
 before him upon the stand. At the foot of the bed 
 was a spectacle to freeze the blood. Stretched at full 
 length was Mrs. Ricks, and upon the floor, mats of 
 hair, its whitish blue ends indicating its violent 
 wrenching from the living head. It had been 
 wrenched from her head, and the bloody scalp lay 
 bare in hideous spots. Above the ear the blade of 
 the iron fire-shovel had cleft the skull, driving the 
 hair into the brain, and splitting the ear through the 
 rim. The blood had oozed out and ran down into 
 the eye, where it was now frozen, the other glaring 
 wildly in death and co vered with frost.
 
 A WINTER SCESTE. 139 
 
 " "Who did this ? " asked Howard of the boy, as he 
 Drushed a tear from his eye. 
 
 " Father ! " whispered the child, creeping stealthily 
 to the Doctor's side and looking from behind him 
 towards the bed, and then, with his gaze still on the 
 sleeping drunkard, he stole behind an old partition, 
 and with wild eyes and bloodless lips brought some- 
 thing away in his hands, and scarce noticed by the 
 Doctor, laid it by- the side of the dead mother. 
 Turning his eye at the moment, Howard started as at 
 the sight of a serpent. There was the elbow and 
 hand and little foot of a babe ! 
 
 " For God's sake ! what what is this ?" he asked, 
 as he stooped to be sure that his eyes did not deceive 
 him. 
 
 "Father father," whispered the child, still keep- 
 ing his gaze upon the bed " threw baby out of the 
 bed 'cause it cried, and then into the fire, and then 
 struck me 'cause I screamed." 
 
 The tale the sight, was horrible, and it was no 
 dream ; and there lay the imbruted murderer in his 
 slumbers. Howard spoke sharply in the ear of the 
 drunkard, but it was difficult to awake him. The 
 moment he did awake, he called for Henry to hand 
 him liquor. Ere Howd,rd was aware, the terrified 
 boy had taken the jug, when a fearful oath from his 
 father startled him so suddenly that he dropped the 
 jug upon the floor. 
 
 " Hell ! " now roared the thoroughly awakened sot, 
 and caught the boy violently by the arm. Henry
 
 14:0 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 screamed with agony, and Howard noticed that the 
 arm was broken above the elbow and turned unre- 
 sistingly in the cruel grasp. It required but a mo- 
 ment to arrest the act, yet with that strange tena- 
 city which characterizes the drunkard's grasp, it bid 
 defiance to his strongest effort. But he was not a 
 man to stand upon trifles, while the tortured child 
 was shrieking in agony. Fastening upon Ricks' 
 throat, he retained his grasp until the bloated cheek 
 became black, and his hold on the boy's arm relaxed. 
 Moving the boy to the corner, he hastily went out to 
 his cutter for his saddle-bags, thinking, in his excite- 
 ment, to set the arm before it should be worse swol- 
 len. The horse was restless from standing in the cold, 
 k\id as he stepped into the cutter, the horse started 
 upon a gallop, the reins about his heels, and kept it 
 unbroken until he turned up under the shed of the 
 " Home." In a moment Howard had the reins, and 
 was urging his way again up the hill at full speed. 
 He hastily entered the house, when hell itself could 
 not have presented a view more devilish. The drunk- 
 ard was standing in the middle of the floor, his red 
 eyes glaring with a demoniac expression, and his teeth 
 clenched like a madman's. 
 
 " They'll never worry me again about bread, G d 
 d n 'em. I '11 learn the cussed brat to break jugs," 
 and more language of the same nature poured from 
 the maniac. 
 
 " They" would beg for bread no more ! They were 
 beyond the " reach of -worldly wants or worldly sor-
 
 A WINTER SCENE. 14:1 
 
 rows. In the brief absence of the Doctor, the drunk- 
 en man had caught his boy, and as it appeared, had, 
 by repeated blows, dashed his head against the fire- 
 place jams until his skull was crushed into a mass of 
 blood and brains, and flung him across the corpse of 
 the mother. The frame of the child was quivering 
 yet, and the one hand even clutched convulsively at 
 empty air, as he straightened out with a tremulous 
 movement and lay still upon his mother's breast. 
 
 The news of the tragedy at Ricks', was speedily 
 spread through the community, embellished with 
 many a horror, until the public feeling ran high 
 against Ricks. The landlord of the " Home " was 
 sure that hanging was too good for him. 
 
 While people were talking about the affair, a kind 
 hand had been at its work of love in the house of 
 blood. Mrs. Ricks was found, on again visiting the 
 house, neatly arrayed upon her bed, and her child be- 
 side her, her wounds washed and dressed, and the 
 crushed skull of the child hidden in his shroud. It 
 needed iron nerves to look upon such work, and yet 
 a gentle hand had removed the more revolting evi- 
 dences of the murder, and restored order to the deso- 
 late looking room. The hand and foot of the babe 
 had been placed by the mother's side, and the visitor 
 gone. When the citizens came through the blinding 
 storm, they looked with surprise upon the calm fea- 
 tures of Mrs. Ricks, pale, but without stain of blood, 
 and the floor and room exhibiting no signs of the 
 tragedy so recently enacted.
 
 14:2 MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 Sweet Minnie Hermon ! In that chamber of 
 death she kneeled, and with the cold browed and 
 bloody dead her company, prayed that the blood 
 of the innocent might not rest too darkly on a 
 father's hand. The bitter storm was unheeded as 
 it swept against her feverish cheek, on her re- 
 turn, for her young heart was full of sorrow. As 
 vivid as the language of fire it burned before her, that 
 to the influence and liquor of the " Home " could be 
 traced the ruin and destruction of the Ricks family. 
 
 The funeral of the Kicks family was one of more 
 than usual solemnity. From the grey-haired grand- 
 sire to the innocent babe, rum had swept them away 
 at a blow. A large crowd had gathered, for the triple 
 murder had thrilled through the community far and 
 near. The dead were buried in one grave, its wide 
 and frozen walls silently awaiting to enclose this 
 fresh and fearfully generous tribute to the remorseless 
 scourge let loose in the valley. The snow was falling 
 fast from the thick gloomy clouds, and the bottom of 
 the wide pit was already shrouded with white, all 
 combining to render the scene solemn and cheerless. 
 There was but one relative of the family living, and 
 that was the loved and broken-hearted father. He 
 had been brought from the jail in the custody of offi- 
 cers, and now stood, his head bared to the storms, 
 and his hands in irons. The scalding tears bitterly 
 rained down his ghastly cheeks and upon his fettered 
 hands, and his broad chest heaved with convulsive
 
 A WINTER SCENE. 1-13 
 
 efforts, which shook him as the blast "would shake the 
 reed. He wrung his clenched hands until the blood 
 started from the swollen fingers, and moaned as ho 
 stood, a blasted thing in his manhood's prime, the 
 fetter links clanking, but in his soul the iron had gone 
 the deepest. Those who had heard the story of his 
 crime and -heaped bitter denunciations upon his head, 
 now looked upon the wretch in his agony, and wept 
 for him. There were mourners at the wintry grave. 
 Minnie was there, crushed with grief; for, in a hun- 
 dred visits to the drunkard's home on the hill, on er- 
 rands of mercy, she had learned to love the lovely 
 woman who had suffered so much, and a sister could 
 not have wept more bitterly at a sister's grave. How- 
 ard, too, stood a child by her side, and with his hand- 
 kerchief at his mouth, looked through swimming 
 eyes upon the scene. 
 
 As the coffins were placed upon the timbers over 
 the grave, Ricks raised his arms high over his head, 
 and dropped upon his knees, bringing his manacled 
 hands heavily down upon the coffin of his wife, the 
 dead sound from within, and the clash of his irons, 
 mingling dismally with a shriek which chilled with 
 its fierce energy of woe. 
 
 " Mary ! O, Mary 1 My children i How I loved 
 ye! Destroyed by my own hand! Merciful God! 
 here let me die, and be buried with them ! " 
 
 The grave was filled by a score of hard hands, and 
 many were the warm tear, that wet them as they toi.od.
 
 144 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 Elder Snyder stepped forward and returned thanks 
 to the people for their kindness, and prayed that God 
 would sanctify to the people this most " afflicting dis- 
 pensation of Providence" 
 
 '' A providence of RUM, inflicted by human devils /" 
 
 Turning to see from whence those strange tones, 
 the unknown in the tarpaulin, was recognized, lean- 
 ing upon a head-stone, his red eje fixed upon the 
 speaker. The latter turned quickly away and passed 
 out with the crowd. 
 
 Howard lingered a moment, and alone sobbed as 
 he watched the old sexton place the rough boards at 
 the head. His thoughts were busy. He remembered 
 the night of his wedding the jeweled hand which 
 crowded the wine upon him, and the lovely features 
 which then were the admiration of all. The beauti- 
 ful and rarely accomplished Miss Anson was under 
 the clods before him ! 
 
 Sick at heart, he, too, turned away, with new 
 thoughts busy in his mind.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THREE MEETINGS, AND WHAT WAS SAID - A PRAYEH 
 ANSWERED. 
 
 events of the last few days furnished fruitful 
 themes fur conversation for many a day. The public 
 mind was intensely aroused to the enormity of the 
 triple murder, and nearly all united in unmeasured 
 condemnation of the wickedness of Ricks. Custom 
 in the bar-room of the " Home " was better than usual, 
 for there was a morbid desire to hear and talk over 
 the matter, and the particulars of the aft'air were de- 
 tailed for the hundredth time. Men stood with their 
 glasses in trembling hands, and argued wisely upon 
 this or that phase of the transaction. 
 
 The faults of Ricks were now as plain as midday ! 
 Men who ha'd feasted upon his too generous nature, 
 turned to give him a stab. He was always ugly, es- 
 pecially when in liquor was passionate and quarrel- 
 some. It was a wonder that he had not come to some 
 bad end before. 
 
 Howard had been sitting along time silent with his 
 face buried in his hand, and his feet braced against 
 the fire-place. The remarks of the last speaker 
 aroused him, and turning quickly upon the latter, he 
 oroke in :
 
 146 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 " When was James Ricks an ugly or passionate 
 man ? When did he ever wrong any man or woman 
 until carried away by his accursed appetite for liquor? 
 When was he otherwise than high-minded, noble and 
 kind? Never, unless intoxicated. 1 knew him 
 have known him for years. A truer or kinder friend, 
 a more affectionate or amiable husband, or indulgent 
 father before he took to drink, never lived in this 
 community. You know it. You know, too, whom 
 he married, and what they both were in this com- 
 munity. You know, too, that he had wealth. Men 
 who have fed upon his bounty should not be eager to 
 add to the weight which crushes the stricken crimi- 
 nal. He is guilty of crime, yet as God is my judge, 
 James Ricks, in his right mind, would no more have 
 done what he has, than I would, and but for rum^ 
 would now be as guiltless. Young Bray ton was right. 
 Our tavern will prove a curse instead of a Messing" 
 
 Hermon was stung, and retorted from his bar with 
 a sneer, with his hand upon a customer's glass : 
 
 " You had better start one of these Temperance 
 Societies, as they call them. Another drink would 
 make you eloquent ! " 
 
 "Herman ! " thundered the Doctor as he strode 
 towards the former and struck his clenched fist upon 
 the bar, with an unusual light in his inflamed 
 eyes, " I shall never take another drink from your 
 hand! I've seen enough. But for your liquor, 
 James Ricks would be now at his old home, in the 
 bosom of his family, an honored and respected citizen."
 
 THREE MEETINGS. 147 
 
 / 
 
 " So you mean to charge me with the death of his 
 family? " fiercely demanded Hermon. 
 
 " I charge it upon the liquor that he obtained at 
 your bar." 
 
 "That was his own business, and not mine." 
 
 " But, sir, you know that he was beggaring his 
 family, and abusing them shamefully." 
 
 " Permit me to say to you, Mr. Howard, that that 
 was no business of mine. It's my business to sell 
 liquor. No body is obliged to buy or drink it unless 
 they choose." 
 
 " Very true. But you know he had no control 
 over himself when in liquor." 
 
 " I tell you again, that is no affair of mine. I am 
 no man's guardian. Men have a right to drink if they 
 see fit, and I've a right to sell." 
 
 "And I've a right to say what I think of the 
 matter. You took a ring from little Henry Ricks 
 which you knew was the wedding ring of his mother, 
 and let him have whisky when you knew that Ricks 
 had driven his wife out of doors, and to the neighbors 
 for protection. Was that as you would wish other 
 men to do by your family ? " 
 
 " I ain't a drunkard, sir," retorted Hermon, with 
 excitement. " I'm not bound to oversee my neigh- 
 bors' affairs. People had better mind their own ~busi 
 ness" he continued, with meaning emphasis. 
 
 " I understand your threat, sir ; I've seen enough 
 of your tavern : it has prospered too well for this vil- 
 lage. J have seen more suffering and wretchedness
 
 148 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 and sorrow since you opened this house, than I ever 
 saw before in my life. Ricks' was not the only fam- 
 ily to whom I have carried bread and given my 
 practice to save from hunger and death. Light 
 breaks in upon me. I see where it ai' comes from, 
 and I shall attend sufficiently to my " own business" 
 Mr. Hermon, hereafter, to let your liquor alone, or 
 else my property will go where Ricks' has gone, and 
 my family be left to suffer, as I and yourself, sir, know 
 that his has suffered. As God is my judge, I'll drink 
 no more forever ! Good morning, sir ! " 
 
 Had a thunderbolt fallen upon that bar-room floor, 
 the astonishment culd not have been greater. The 
 befuddled intellects were too misty to see the plain 
 truths hinted at by Dr. Howard, but they could easily 
 see that he was a very hasty-spoken man, and had 
 acted like a fool. Drink nothing ! It was one of the 
 wildest ideas ever thought of, and a temperance man 
 of this day would wonder at the remarks made by 
 those in the bar-room, after Howard left. All conclu- 
 ded that he acted like a madman, and had abused 
 Mr. Hermon most shamefully. There was not the 
 least harm in the world in drinking ardent spirits 
 it was necessary. Because a man now and then made 
 a fool of himself, so harmless a beverage should not 
 be talked so about. The Doctor was generally a man 
 of intelligence, and it was a wonder what had got 
 into him to make him act so ; he ought to know 
 better. Guess when he got cooled off he would come 
 round right. So Hermon thought, although the
 
 THKEE MEETINGS. 
 
 words of the Doctor chafed him more than he was 
 willing to acknowledge even to himself. Yet he cer- 
 tainly could not be held responsible for what others 
 did ; each one must look out for himself. If old 
 Kicks had not made a fool of himself, he would not 
 have been where he was. He had never taken any 
 thing from Ricks without he had paid a full price 
 for it. It wasn't his business to dictate how men 
 should spend their property. Such men were his 
 best customers, and if he should refuse to sell them 
 liquor, kis business would not be worth anything. 
 He must get a living. He did not want people to 
 make beasts of themselves. If they did, it was their 
 own lookout and not his. He kept a tavern for the 
 public accommodation. To keep a public house and 
 not sell liquor, would be a curious idea ! He wan't 
 the fool that Howard took him to be, and that gen- 
 tleman would find it out so. 
 
 With such reasoning, Hermon stifled the little con- 
 science left, and after a few days things assumed their 
 usual course, with slight exceptions. All had miscal- 
 culated upon the Doctor. He had at once seen the 
 danger, and in the midst of the horrible effects of the 
 liquor from the " Home," had solemnly sworn to 
 drink no more. His manhood, yet unobliterated by 
 his rapidly increasing appetite for liquor, rebelled 
 against the thought of dying a drunkard. Ricks, his 
 Bchoolrnate, and earliest and best friend, had wasted a 
 fortune, and was now in irons as a murderer. How- 
 ard shuddered as he looked over the past few yearo,
 
 150 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 and as lie swore before God in the bar-room of the 
 " Home," so he would do at all hazards. No influ- 
 ences should drive him from his position. 
 
 With bitter words yet upon his tongue and anger 
 in his heart, Hermon passed from the bar-room into 
 the hall. He met Minnie in cloak and hood, with a 
 basket on her arm, just starting to go out among the 
 poor of the neighborhood. In his then ill humor, it , 
 was enough to call upon the daughter's head some 
 of the harsh language that swelled in his troubled 
 heart against Howard. 
 
 "What new subject of your whimpering kindness 
 now calls you out in the cold ? Haven't I told you be- 
 fore to stop this eternal running with provisions after 
 lazy vagabonds ? I cannot, will not submit to it long- 
 er ! " You must stop it ! " 
 
 "Father! I cannot stop it. You must not say that. 
 I am not feeding lazy vagabonds, but the poor and 
 needy, such as the Saviour enjoins upon us to aid. 
 Do not say I shall not, Father ! " 
 
 " Saviour be 
 
 " O mercy ! Speak it not," and she sprung forward 
 and placed her hand quickly upon his burning lips 
 to shut back the dreadful blasphemy. She instantly 
 removed her hand, and bursting into tears fell upon 
 her knees and craved his pardon with burning kisses 
 upon his reluctant hand. The demon was again en- 
 throned in the bosom of Hermon as of old. Madden- 
 ed with rum and exasperated by his clash with How- 
 ard, even the tears of his meek and devoted daughter
 
 THREE MEETINGS. 151 
 
 were A ike oil upon the fires that raged fiercely within 
 him. 
 
 " Min. ! no more of this d d nonsense ! I've 
 
 seen blubbering enough. Your mother was always 
 whimpering around like a simpleton, and I am tired 
 of it. Go into the kitchen and behave yourself. I'll 
 see, Miss, if I can't rule my own house," and with a 
 cruel grasp he seized Minnie by the shoulder and 
 hurled her towards the inner door. 
 
 Minnie sprang from his clutch as if stung, but it 
 was not the cruel fingers which reached the quick. 
 Rising erect in all the queenly beauty of her injured 
 feelings, her thin nostrils distended, and her eyes 
 kindling with indignation, she stood before the un- 
 natural parent. 
 
 " Father of mine ! you may heap reproaches upon 
 me may even, as you have now done for the first 
 time in your life, lay a harsh hand upon me, but 
 in the fear of God, never dare again to revile the 
 holy name of one who loved so well and suffered so 
 deeply. Heaven forgive you for assailing the mem- 
 ory of one whom you wronged so cruelly while living. 
 Have you forgotten that she died with the mark of a 
 blow upon her cheek, and a prayer upon her lip for 
 him who gave it ? Have you forgotten the promise 
 you gave her then that you would not touch the cup 
 again ? By all the memories of the past, of the pa- 
 tient, long-suffering wife of your own hopes of 
 Heaven, my once noble father, away with this dark 
 demon, and we will be happy again. Else the judg-
 
 152 MINNIE HERHOtf. 
 
 ments of God will as surely come upon us as lie lives 
 above." 
 
 Drunk as he was, Hermon felt humbled some- 
 what, and in a milder tcne muttered about giving 
 away so much out of the house ; it would " beggar 
 them." 
 
 " And would beggary be any worse for us, Father, 
 than others ?" mildly asked the daughter. 
 
 "Others is nothing to us. It's our business to 
 take care of ourselves." 
 
 " But it's our duty to help the needy." 
 
 " But we can be reasonable about it ; 'taint duty to 
 support all the poor there is." 
 
 " Father, I must be plain. There were few poor 
 and needy ten years ago. I shudder when I think of 
 the undoubted cause of their poverty. Would to 
 God that that cause had produced no worse ill than 
 poverty." 
 
 "What do you allude to, girl? what cause?'' 
 fiercely demanded Hermon. 
 
 " The Traveler's Home ! Its liquor has produced 
 suffering and death in every direction." 
 
 " Who told you this, you impudent hussy ? " 
 
 " Have I not seen it in all its forms from the very 
 commencement? " 
 
 "And I s'pose you will say next, as Howard did, 
 hat I destroyed the Ricks family ? " 
 
 " Your liquor did, most assuredly." 
 
 " But how is that any business of mine ? I didn't 
 kill the wife and children."
 
 THREE MEETINGS. 153 
 
 " But the father did, while in liquor, and the liquor 
 came from your hand." 
 
 " My hand ! " and Hermon involuntarily looked at 
 his hand, as if expecting to see blood there, and then 
 fiercely moved towards Minnie. But she stirred not, 
 and the madman quailed before the daughter, for 
 she had his own spirit, and it was thoroughly aroused. 
 
 " Yes, father, it came from your hand." 
 
 " But I have a right to sell, and no one is obliged 
 to buy the liquor." 
 
 " I know that the law gives you a right to sell, but 
 God says, ' Woe unto him who putteth the bottle to 
 his neighbor's lips, and maketh him drunken.' " 
 
 " You needn't preach to me any more, Miss, nor 
 cany any more stuff out of the house," snarled Her- 
 mon, as he turned to go out. You carried provis- 
 ions enough to Ricks' family to have half support- 
 ed 'em." 
 
 "And were they not entitled to even more than 
 a half-support from us ? " 
 
 " What do you mean ? Am I to support all who 
 are fools enough to fool away their property? " 
 
 " I mean, father, that the bread I carried to that 
 family was theirs every morsel, justly theirs ta- 
 ken piece-meal from them in their poverty." 
 
 " But they had their pay for it in liquor," thunder- 
 ed the enraged father. 
 
 " In liquor ! and you dare to call that pay for all 
 that has been taken from them. Did you not know 
 that every drop which went there was a curse ? Could
 
 154: MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 Mrs. Hicks, or her children, eat it when hungry, or 
 wear it in the cold ? Didn't it make a fiend of Ricks, 
 and cause him to commit the crime for which he ia 
 now in prison ? Don't you know this, father ? " 
 
 " Go to ! I don't know any such thing. I've 
 
 got nothirg but my own." 
 
 " Who has the deed of their farm ? Dare you say 
 you gave him an equivalent ? Is that instrument not 
 the death-warrant of the whole family? Ko," con- 
 tinued Minnie, as the landlord of the "Home " cow- 
 ered from her, " that bread was not ours, not a mor- 
 sel of it. It came unjustly. You may revile you 
 may turn me from your door, father ; but, before 
 God, I will restore, as far as in me lies, to those who 
 have been crushed by this house. You will live to 
 bless me for this, and to curse the day you trans- 
 formed our then happy home into a tavern. I shall 
 now go on my errand to the Widow Gilford's. Her 
 substance and the life of her only child have been 
 destroyed ty rum. She needs our aid. It is her due, 
 and she shall have it." 
 
 " Hell and furies ! " growled Hermon, as he slam- 
 med the door behind him. " She, too, has got How- 
 ard's stuff by heart, and all the devils this side the 
 pit can't stop her clack." 
 
 - The landlord of the " Home " felt himself a mai- 
 tyr, and sought to drown his troubles in a stiff horn 
 of fourth-proof, and a vigorous kicking of the fore- 
 Btick in the fire-place. 
 
 Dr. Howard rode home, with new and strange
 
 THEEE MEETINGS. 155 
 
 thoughts crowding thickly upon each other. Dimly 
 at first, but increasing as he proceeded, the light of 
 higher views of his duties and responsibilities in the 
 matter of using intoxicating drinks, broke in around 
 him. As light came, so did a knowledge of his own 
 danger, and the nearness of the precipice he had es- 
 caped. So intense became his thoughts as he dwelt 
 upon the subject, the abyss opened before him, and 
 he involuntarily drew up his rein so violently that 
 his horse reared, and came near throwing him from 
 the saddle. 
 
 " I might have fallen worse far worse," he mut- 
 tered, as the fearful vision was dispelled, and he looked 
 out upon the eddying snow and up to the gloomy 
 clouds overhead. It now seemed strange that he had 
 BO long forgotten his mother, and the scene in the 
 city garret. A blush crept over his cheek as he rec- 
 ognized the cause of his forgetfulness, and with a ho- 
 lier and more solemn meaning, his recent resolution 
 entered down into his better heart. That cold hand 
 and glaring eye were before him, and the blast assumed 
 a milder wail, as upon that fatal night ; and he shut 
 his eyes and spurred on. The light, like a cheering 
 beacon, streamed out from his own window, and he 
 dismounted at the cottage, a free and a happier man. 
 Fearfully plain he now saw the cause of the wasting 
 check of the wife, and lingered upon the step to dash 
 a tear from his eye. Not even an angry look or a 
 smothered retort had ever answered his harsh words, 
 or greeted him as he had returned from the reveL
 
 156 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 The intense and holy love of a better day kindled up 
 with more than its early heat, and he hurried to hia 
 wife's chamber. 
 
 Howard entered softly, but the chamber was de- 
 serted. The fire glowed in the chimney, and the ta- 
 ble awaited his coming. As he turned to look, a low 
 murmur came from the half-opened bedroom door, 
 and he recognized the voice of his wife. The current 
 of air from the hall door, which he had opened, 
 swung the other noiselessly upon its hinges, and the 
 whole was revealed. The child had been placed in 
 the bed, and was slumbering sweetly. The mother 
 was kneeling before the bed, the hand of the little 
 sleeper clasped in hers, and her head bowed upon the 
 pillow. Her hair had fallen from its fastenings, and 
 hung in dark masses over the shoulder. Howard had 
 never before found his wife at prayer, and he stood 
 spell-bound, not knowing whether to advance or re- 
 treat. Clear and distinct her words came, and like 
 hot brands burned upon his cheek and into his proud 
 soul. And she, too, had seen his danger ; and now, 
 with the holy earnestness of a faith which leaned 
 firmly upon God, and a heart swelling with the sor- 
 row which the public eye never beholds, she was 
 praying for her husband, and wrestling with Him 
 who influences the hearts of men, to save the father 
 of her child from a drunkard's grave. Howard 
 started as though an adder had hissed at his feet. 
 And still the long-suffering, never-complaining and 
 devoted wife plead that their home might be spared
 
 THREE MEETINGS. 15 Y 
 
 from the destroyer of those around it. She raised her 
 head again, and prayed more earnestly that HE who 
 loved children would guard her own from harm. 
 Tears flooded the channel of words, and she ceased 
 to speak, but a more touching eloquence wept 
 her prayors in silence. 
 
 "EUmt* 
 
 Ere the startled wife could turn, a trembling arm 
 was wound about her, and her hand clasped convul- 
 sively in that of her husband, his strong frame heaving 
 with emotion, and the warm tears of stouter man- 
 hood's giving away, raining upon the locked hands. 
 The silence was broken only by the sobbing of a man 
 who seldom wept 
 
 " Ellen, how long have you prayed thus ? " 
 
 " Oh, many, many times, Henry. I hope you are 
 not offended," and she turned to look in his face. 
 
 " My deeply injured wife, no ! ten thousand times, 
 no ! But you will weep no more ; your prayers have 
 been answered. I have this night sworn to drink no 
 more/orever that which will intoxicate." 
 
 Men who know not how much a woman can suffer 
 in the daily crumbling away of her heart's dearest 
 hopes, can dream how unutterable happiness like the 
 sunshine of perfect bliss came back from Heaven on 
 the pathway of her prayers, as she wound her arms 
 around the neck of her husband, and with her head 
 bowed upon his bosom, wept again. Her tears were 
 now for joy. Each one gave back the light of hope 
 and promise, and a sweet and holy calm pervaded her
 
 158 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 soul in that night of storm. In that hour, too, How- 
 ard had determined to lean upon her God, and the 
 tempter was forever driven from their earthly Eden. 
 As he stooped down over his child, it awoke, and a 
 smile answered the kiss. It was like an angel-wel- 
 come welcome back to a better and holier life. 
 The evening meal was never so enjoyed. The fire 
 looked brighter, and the tea-kettle sung a livelier air, 
 and its steam curled up from the spout like an in- 
 cense. The storm was unheeded; and even after 
 the family had retired, the coals glowed and flashed, 
 and the cricket chirruped his happy song under the 
 hearth. 
 
 Dreams visited the sleeping husband and wife. 
 The fearful specter which had seated itself at their 
 hearth was driven away, and the Angel of Hope came 
 and smiled where it had been.
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 MABEL DUNHAM. 
 
 AMONG the earliest victims of the rum traffic in 
 Oakvale, was Harry Dunham, an impetuous, gener- 
 ous-hearted and high-souled young man of thirty 
 years of age. In the pleasures of the cup, the bond- 
 age of the tempter was woven so speedily and strong- 
 ly around him, that his prospects darkened at midday, 
 and the sun of his promise went down like a meteor. 
 His was a nature to yield at once and madly to the 
 fatal embrace of his enemy, and in a few years the 
 gifted young man had fallen to the lowest degrada- 
 tion, and in soiled and tattered garments spent the 
 most of his time in the bar-room of the tavern. The 
 manly form was bloated, the hair bushy and un- 
 combed, and the full, dark eye of a fiery red. It was 
 pitiable to see the once proud young man, holding 
 horses, cleaning stables, sweeping the bar-rooms 
 performing the most menial service for the pittance 
 of a glass. As a sixpence dropped into his hand, he 
 would turn eagerly away to the bar and spend it for 
 rum. 
 
 The course of Dunham had desolated as happy a 
 home as a young man ever had. But the young wife, 
 who had given him the priceless wealth of her young 
 7
 
 li>0 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 heart, was stricken down like a tender flower, aud^ 
 without a word of complaining, died. 
 
 Mabel, the fair child of the brief union, inherited 
 all her mother's loveliness, and every home in Oak- 
 vale was gladly tendered the worse than orphan. 
 She had no more a homo, for her father deserted her 
 entirely, and plunged more deeply into dissipation. 
 She no more, however, was compelled to visit the 
 " Home," with the tin pail, and in tremulous tones 
 ask liquor for a drunken father at home. 
 
 John Gault, a bold, impulsive boy, a few years 
 older than Mabel, was often seen in her company, 
 and at such times himself went into the bar-room and 
 got the liquor for her. John's father, though a cler- 
 gyman, was a cold, stone-hearted man, and was angry 
 at the intimacy between his son and " drunken Dun- 
 ham's " Mabel ; but the wilful boy would go to school, 
 and over the fields, and by the river, with the sad- 
 hearted child. 
 
 The old school-house stood over the river, perched 
 picturesquely at the " four corners " among the rocks 
 and scraggy pines. The walls upon the lower side 
 were covered with moss, tufts of grass growing in the 
 crevices, and a thistle, with a pale red blossom, reach- 
 ing out its prickly stem. The house is old and 
 weather-beaten, and the chimney crumbling away ; 
 but clustering with a thousand hallowed associations. 
 The jack-knife had been busy upon the clapboards 
 and benches, where rude skill had carved ruder ima- 
 ges and names, many of the letters turned the wrong
 
 MABEL DUNHAM. 161 
 
 way, and fantastically uncouth. The old door-sill 
 was broken and deeply worn, and the rank grass was 
 growing greenly .upon either side of the hard path. 
 There was an old rock by the tuft of elders, sloping 
 back to the hill from its perpendicular front, and 
 smoothly worn by many a summer's treading of bare- 
 footed groups. It was warm the rock in the 
 summer's sun, and there were glorious tumbles from 
 the overhanging top. 
 
 The rock is there yet, but many of the bare feet 
 have long since trodden the journey of life. 
 
 Across the road was a wide-spreading old thorn, 
 with scraggy trunk and lance-like weapons hidden in 
 its leaves ; but it bore a gorgeous wealth of white 
 blossoms, and the bees mingled melody with the wel- 
 come fragrance. On the knoll beneath, was the 
 mimic carriage-way, with its bridge of bark and em- 
 bankments of fresh earth. No architects of ancient 
 grandeur were prouder of their achievements than the 
 boy builders. Below the hill was the old mill, with 
 its deep, dark flume, and the pond covered with float- 
 ing timbers. The mysterious old wheel was covered 
 with moss, and as its dripping arms swung round, a 
 wealth of gems fell glittering in the sunbeams. There 
 was the still water when the old wheel ceased to go 
 round, and the green-looking stones upon the bottom, 
 where the " dace " lay so lazily in the sun, and seem- 
 ed so wondrous large. It were worth a world to sport 
 again in that cool stream, with the light of childhood 
 in the heart, and its vigor in the limb.
 
 162 MDTCCIE HEEMON. 
 
 The sun crept stilly into the open door of the school- 
 house, and away across the warped boards, nicely 
 swept, and worn smooth by childish feet. "Warm and 
 rich was that sunlight as it came in at the window 
 upon the well-worn seat, and leaped off upon the floor 
 across the roorrv. Sweetly it laughed upon the sleep- 
 ing boy's face and upon his golden hair. The little 
 sleeper was just at school, and the mistress had kindly 
 laid him down, his feet hanging over the end of the 
 bench, and his arm hanging down to the floor. 
 
 The sun moved away and so will move away 
 the child-dreams of his school days. 
 
 There is a low murmur of voices in the room, and 
 the hum of the fly, as he wings about in the stillness, 
 or crawls on the warm window-pane, or trims his shi- 
 ning wings in the sunshine save this, all is hushed 
 and dreamy. The sun beats hotly without, where 
 the mowers are busy, the scraping of their rifles, as 
 they sharpen their scythes, ringing clearly across the 
 field. With the shadow of the drifting cloud goes 
 by the breeze, after entering the windows like a spirit 
 of health, with its fragrance of new-mown hay. 
 
 The wide old hearth is neatly swept, and the fire- 
 place looks cool with its profusion of boughs. The 
 school mistress moves quietly about the room with 
 ferule in hand, and prompting with a musical voice 
 as the children recite. 
 
 There is the beautiful and sad face of the lone boy, 
 as, with his crutch beside him, he sits in the door and 
 watches sports he cannot enjoy. His cheeks are
 
 MABEL DUNHAM. 163 
 
 pale, but his eye of deepest blue has that resigned 
 and patient look which wins the heart, and his sweet 
 and gentle manner endeared him to all. The best 
 apple is his, and he has a favored seat at all our 
 plays ; and when we lift him over the fence, where 
 he can mingle with us under the wide-crowned thorn, 
 his look is grateful, and lingers like a sacred thought 
 in the memory. The pilgrimage of the lame boy is 
 ended. He left his crutch at the grave, and in it that 
 shattered form. 
 
 In the corner of the crooked fence, and under the 
 thorn, was the play-house, built of fragments of 
 boards, and walled in with cobble-stones. The bro- 
 ken china was nicely arranged, and the turf floor 
 cleanly swept. But lessons were not always well 
 learned within that little retreat. The plump arm 
 was punished with a pin, when the mischievous owner 
 put dock-burs in her brother's hair. 
 
 Mabel Dunham was a favorite, for the children had 
 not yet learned to shun the drunkard's child. Her 
 eyes were sweetly calm and blue, her hair long and 
 lying like waves of gold upon her white neck, or glan- 
 cing in the sun as her hand tossed the heavy braids 
 from her cheek. A gentle and touching sadness had 
 settled upon her features since her mother's death, 
 and sorrow more than years had written its language 
 upon her thoughtful brow. 
 
 John Gault, was the boy-lover of Mabel. He 
 cartAilly lifted her over the mossy stones in the 
 streams, over the fence, or down from the wide rock
 
 164 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 by the spring. The yellowest daisy and the freshest 
 wild-rose were hunted out from the meadow and the 
 hedge, and the largest pond-lily was wrenched from 
 its moorings far out in the water. The smoothest and 
 prettiest pebbles were selected from the brooklet's bed 
 for the little house he had built for Mabel, and the 
 greenest moss pulled to carpet the floor. The red 
 maple was climbed for boughs to shut out the sun 
 those blue eyes ever turned anxiously up that he 
 should not fall. Mornings, John would steal away 
 and watch her coming down the winding path around 
 the hill, and carry her basket to the school. The im- 
 petuous boy loved more than boys usually love. He 
 saw her everywhere in night and day dreams. The 
 flame-like foliage of the maple was like the dress she 
 wore. The robin in the beech overhead sang of Ma- 
 bel. The golden dandelion and the daisy smiled as 
 she smiled ; and the blue sky down in the still water, 
 was as dreamy and still as her eyes were calm. He 
 heard her footfall behind him as he hurried through 
 the dusky wood-path. The stars had eyes like hers ; 
 and in the moonlight, the dew-drop glittered as he 
 had seen the tear glitter upon her cheek. In the 
 strength and purity of his child-love, John had 
 promised, that, when a man, in spite of his father and 
 everobody else, he would make Mabel his wife, and 
 they would have a home of their own, and be 
 happy. 
 
 Boy dreams ! 
 
 Mabel Dunham lost I
 
 MABEL DUNHAil. . 165 
 
 The news spread quickly through the village for 
 all loved the unfortunate child. The father, deeply 
 intoxicated, had been seen the evening before in her 
 company across the river. 
 
 Below the dam was a footwalk, high above the 
 water, for the accommodation of the villagers. Across 
 this was the most direct way to the falls a place 
 where John and Mabel had spent many hours in 
 childish communion. John was the first to reach 
 the walk, just as the sunshine fell in a broad beam 
 across the pool. There upon the bottom was Dunham 
 and Mabel, one hand clenched upon her arm, and the 
 other upon the handle of his broken jug ! The sands 
 glittered in the golden braids of her hair as they lay 
 out upon the clear current ; and, as if smiling to the 
 sky, her eye was turned upward. A wild rose was 
 crushed in her stiffened fingers. The father with his 
 jug, and the child with the flower! both at rest. 
 
 There was no little astonishment when it was known 
 that Elder Snyder would not preach at the funeral 
 of Dunham and his child. Few dared, however, to 
 reason the matter with him. His creed was cast-iron 
 in its mould dark, puritanic and forbidding. He 
 felt that no drunkard could enter Heaven, and be- 
 lieved that the sins of the father were visited upon 
 the children. Dunham was an ungodly man, and 
 Mabel had never been baptized, and it would be 
 blasphemy to pray for those who were already 
 doomed to perdition. Gault indignantly rebuked 
 the bigot because he would not preach for Mabel ;
 
 166 MENNIE HERMON. 
 
 but he was severely chastised for his wickedness and 
 impertinence. 
 
 On a bright Sunday afternoon they carried Mabel 
 across the stream, and lowered her gently to her rest. 
 John Gault dare not speak, but his heart went 
 down with the coffin, and he loved the old sexton be- 
 cause he dropped the dirt so softly down, and placed 
 the sods so carefully with his hands, with a tear in 
 his own eye. The old man loved Mabel, too. 
 
 Thus early in life ended the love-dream of John 
 Gault
 
 CHAPTEK XIV. 
 
 GOING FEOM HOME. 
 
 " No, I '11 not forgive him. He 's a wilful boy, and 
 has disobeyed me thrice in this matter. He has 
 shown himself a child of the devil, and he must go 
 out. He is no son of mine, and this is his home no 
 longer ! " 
 
 " Nay, William," pleaded the tearful wife, "he is our 
 only child. Do not turn him away, but forgive him. 
 He is wayward, but not vicious. Years and kindness 
 will cool his fiery nature, and he will be a blessing 
 in our old age. God will not leave him we must 
 not. The act may be his ruin, and plant sorrow in 
 our old hearts for life. Our Saviour was forgiving, 
 William," and the earnest woman laid her hand gen- 
 tly on the arm of the stern man before her, " and 
 should we not bear longer with the only one now 
 left us ? " 
 
 "Tempt me not, woman! Tour mother's heart 
 clings wickedly to an unworthy idol. The boy has 
 wandered from the fold and our hearth?ide and sought 
 intercourse with the ungodly. He is lost, but God's 
 will be done. I must not shrink, for we read that if 
 the eye offend, we must pluck it out. Alfred is de- 
 termined to inflict disgrace upon us and the church.
 
 168 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 His mouth is filled with cursings, and his heart >rith 
 disobedience, and I can harbor him no more." 
 
 " But if the prodigal should return," continued the 
 now weeping mother, "you surely would welcome 
 him to our home ? " 
 
 " Enough of this, Mary ; it is wrong to repine. It 
 is ordered that our child should be cast out from 
 among the righteous, and it is ours to submit." 
 
 The angel-hearted mother would have still plead 
 for her wayward boy, but she looked in the face of 
 the stern, tearless father, and with a quivering lip 
 turned away to weep as only a mother weeps, and 
 left that frowning man to walk his study with a firm 
 tread and a compressed lip. 
 
 Elder Snyder was a Christian of iron mould. No 
 penance-doing monk was ever more exact and rigid 
 in the performance of his religious duties, and more 
 unforgiving towards the wayward and ungodly. He 
 looked upon the least sin with no degree of allowance, 
 and felt it a solemn duty to heap the fiercest condem- 
 nation upon all who did not square by his standard 
 of faith. His was a cast-iron creed, unyielding and 
 unforgiving. He was once a persecutor of the saints, 
 but now a minister of the gospel, who dealt only in 
 the fierce red imagery of hell and its torments, in his 
 Sabbath ministrations. He never spoke of the love 
 of the child-like Saviour nor wept as that Saviour 
 wept never forgave as that Saviour forgave. He 
 never smiled ; but cold, passionless and stern, stood 
 like an angel with a flaming sword to drive out the
 
 GOING FKOM HOME. 169 
 
 erring forever ; never, like the meek Redeemer, to 
 forgive and pardon on the cross, and welcome tc 
 Heaven the praying and penitent thief. He was evei 
 dark and forbidding, and his sermons were ever woven 
 with the sombre texture of eternal wrath. The mild, 
 winning light of our blessed religion never warmed 
 or irradiated his dark nature. He esteemed joy and 
 laughter a sin, and passed among his people with a 
 countenance as rigid and unbending as though no 
 heart throbbed beneath that stolid surface. 
 
 Such was the father of Alfred Snyder, for whom 
 the mother plead in the beginning of this chapter. 
 The young looked upon him with awe, but not with 
 love and veneration. There was nothing in his man- 
 ner or conversation to win the affection of the youth, 
 or to attract them toward him. From the ball-play 
 or the ring he turned away with a frown and a sigh. 
 His prayers were ever of a chilling solemnity, and 
 breathed only denunciations against the impenitent. 
 And in the chamber of the dying, he never wore that 
 smile of hope and faith, which burns like a beacon 
 above the silent wastes of a shoreless ocean. Child- 
 hood shrunk away in whispers from that cloudy brow, 
 and hushed the laughter of its joys. 
 
 We need not detail the history of an education at 
 Buch a hearth and by such a teacher. His treatment 
 of his familv chilled every warm impulse of his chil- 
 dren, and taught them that all earthly joy was a sin. 
 All but one of his children had passed away, but the
 
 170 MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 iron man never wept it would have been sinful to 
 have wept over the providence of God ! 
 
 And so the mother wept alone in her heart and 
 chamber over the wasting of her idols. 
 
 Thus Alfred Snyder grew up to early manhood, 
 looking upon his home as a prison-house^ and his 
 father as a stern, hard keeper, and upon the world as 
 a bright realm which lured him to pleasures he could 
 not enjoy. Even the most innocent amusements of 
 childhood were denied him. The tide of young life's 
 buoyancy was frowned back to its fountain, where its 
 pent-up strength struggled against the unnatural and 
 unreasonable restraint. The Bible and the catechism 
 were the only books ; the rod, the devil, and perdi- 
 tion, the only motives in life. The result of such a 
 system of training upon a fiery nature, need not be 
 told. Alfred inherited all his father's firmness, with 
 the buoyant, sunny nature of the mother. His heart 
 was full of the sunshine of life, and of the nobility of 
 manhood. He turned kindly to every one, and 
 eagerly sought the pleasant associations of youth. 
 He was frank, impulsive, and generous, and from a 
 cold and uncongenial home, turned involuntarily to 
 catch the sunshine he found not at his own hearth- 
 side. Thus, step by step, without dreaming of wrong, 
 he crossed the first circles of youthful pleasure. In- 
 stead of striving to make home pleasant, and to blend 
 instruction with amusement, the father was harshly 
 Btern and unforgiving. Alfred, now twenty years
 
 GOING FKOM HOME. 171 
 
 old, came home from a dance ; the father did not ex- 
 postulate or entreat, but, with a lowering brow, took 
 the rod and chastised his boy. Alfred's cheek flushed 
 a deep crimson, and his eye flashed, but he stood 
 erect and looked his parent in the face. But the 
 strokes burned, and his proud nature writhed under 
 the disgraceful infliction. The punishment came to 
 the ears of his comrades, and, maddened by the fact, 
 Alfr.ed attended another dance, and was again flog- 
 ged. And still a third time. The gulf had now 
 widely yawned between the parent and child, and the 
 latter sought his chamber with a pale, compressed 
 lip. A new purpose was formed. 
 
 The father knelt and put up his evening prayer, his 
 voice as coldly calm and unshaken as though no 
 shadow had ever fallen between him and his first 
 born. 
 
 The mother stole away to the chamber of her boy, 
 to drop the balm of kindly words and tears upon hia 
 smarting wounds and into the lacerated heart. Al- 
 fred had thrown himself upon his bed without un- 
 dressing, and had already fallen asleep. There were 
 tears lingering upon the lids and cheek, and the holy 
 ones of the mother mingled with them, as she kneeled 
 and wept over the wayward, but brave and noble- 
 hearted boy. His cheeks were flushed, and, upon 
 one of them, was a long line of fiery red, where the 
 lash had reached from the shoulder. 
 
 The father prayed not for his child, but the mother 
 did. Alfred awoke to hear her asking the blessing
 
 172 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 of God upon liis head, and he wove his arm around 
 her iveck, and wept as a grieved child would weep. 
 
 " Mother, I must leave home it is no place for 
 me. Harsh words I can bear, but not blows. 
 I am disgraced, for the boys all understand the 
 matter." * 
 
 " No, no, Alfred," answered the mother sadly ; 
 " you must not leave. Tour father is severe, but he 
 feels that you have disobeyed him. Your mother 
 will plead with him you are our only child, and 
 you must not go away from us." 
 
 "Mother, I must. It's of no use father never 
 smiles or speaks a kind word to me. Had he done 
 so, I am sure I should not have disobeyed him. I 
 love you, mother, but I cannot love him. Every 
 blow he strikes me smarts to the soul, and, with bit- 
 ter words, he told me to leave the home I had dis 
 graced. Did he speak to me as you speak, I could 
 get down on my knees to him and beg his forgiveness, 
 but never, with the lash burning on my back. I 
 will go." 
 
 Alfred had arisen and stood with erect frame and 
 dilated nostrils, his eye flashing and the whip mark 
 reddening on his cheek. The mother watched him 
 with feelings of pride as he stood, and yet wept at his 
 determination. The mother's tears were yet warm 
 upon the cheek of her boy, to be borne out into the 
 world, and remembered when all else virtuous and 
 holy died out. 
 
 " It is of no use," he firmly answered to her earn-
 
 GOING FKOM HOME. 
 
 est appeals, "I must go. I never sliall return until 
 he asks me to, though I will write to you often. And 
 now, mother, I am wild and thoughtless, but you will 
 pray for me when away. I shall be a better man. 
 It is hard to leave to be turned oiit, but," and he 
 stood prottdly up, " I can wrestle alone in the world, 
 and find none more unkind than him you have told 
 me to love. Don't weep you unman me. In an 
 hour I shall be on my way." 
 
 Alas ! how many stronger wrestlers have been 
 thrown in life's encounters. 
 
 The mother spent that swift hour on her knees, 
 and, as the clock struck ten, she hearkened, even then 
 hoping that Alfred would not go. She opened the 
 hall door, passed softly to his chamber, and found the 
 door ajar. She feared he had gone, but she found 
 him bowed and his face wet with tears, and her min- 
 iature in his hands. Like the low rustling of an an- 
 gel's wing, the mother kneeled down, and locked arm 
 in arm in silence, they wept again together, for the 
 mother loved her child. 
 
 Alfred stood on the threshold, his heart swelling in 
 his throat, and locked to the heaving bosom of the 
 sorrowing mother. Even then, had that stern father 
 Bpoken one kind word to the proud boy, the cloud 
 would have passed away from the hearth. 
 
 'T was like wrenching hearts asunder the agony 
 of that parting. She clung to him with hooks of steel. 
 He had been her idol, and she yielded him as one of 
 the brightest hopes of earth. Clouds had darkened
 
 174: MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 the sky over their heads, but darker ones were IE 
 their hearts. 
 
 "I must go, mother may God be with you, for 
 there are none to love you as I love you. Tell fa- 
 ther to be more kind to others than he has been to 
 me, and that when old age creeps upon him, one 
 kindly word will bring me back to our home from the 
 ends of the earth. Don't weep, mother, but pray for 
 your wayward boy. Good-bye ! " 
 
 Like a part of her own life, Alfred withdrew from 
 her trembling arms, and turned down the road. She 
 listened to every footstep, the sounds falling like barbs 
 into her desolate heart, and, faint and dizzy, she pas- 
 sed into the dark and lonely chamber, where every- 
 thing reminded her sadly of him who had gone from 
 her sight forever. It stormed during the night, and 
 she saw in each flash the form of her boy, heavy- 
 hearted and weary, toiling alone through life, without 
 mother or home. 
 
 The morning was cloudless, and the sun smiled upon 
 the dripping landscape. The father put up his morn- 
 ing prayer with a steady voice, never once alluding 
 to him who was launched out upon a world-wide and 
 treacherous ocean. 
 
 The mould will long gather upon the grave of 
 that mother, ere the wanderer returns.
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 TTNMOOBED FKOM THE HEABTH. 
 
 0:tf the fourth day from home, Alfred Snjder found 
 himself in the streets of the Empire City, alone and 
 friendless. The thronging thousands, the rumbling 
 of wheels, and the confusion of tongues, wore the air 
 of novelty for a time. But he soon wearied of all 
 this, and felt himself in a vast solitude, even in the 
 midst of the great Babel. So true it is, that in the 
 very midst of the tramping thousands, the stranger 
 feels like one in a vast solitude, and turns within 
 his own bosom, where there are thoughts of home 
 and friends who are ever joined in one common 
 circle. 
 
 It is not our purpose, at this time, to trace the ca- 
 reer of Alfred in detail. The chances are against 
 him in the great battle before him. Brave and true 
 men have fallen. There is no true heroism like that 
 which meets and beats back the temptations which, 
 like ten thousand whirlpools, circle and seethe every- 
 where in the ocean of life. 
 
 Alfred was alone, and the principles of virtue and 
 truth not too well fixed. The very manner in which 
 he had been educated at home had robbed such 
 principles of their real attractions. He remem-
 
 176 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 bered such teachings as associated with the harsh 
 word and the stinging blow. As he turned to the 
 gay world, its gayeties and pleasures had beauties 
 which have too often proved fatal to those of sterner 
 mould. He was impulsive, generous and brave ; and 
 under the influences of a right education at home, he 
 would have been one of nature's noblemen. 
 
 Alfred remembered his mother, and felt that he 
 should always respect her parting advice. Poor boy ! 
 How soon he learned his weakness. By degrees, yet 
 rapidly, he was drawn into the mesh. His was a na- 
 ture to welcome all that wore the guise of friendship, 
 and the result was that he found himself a dupe and 
 a victim of designing knaves, his good resolutions 
 vanished, -and himself floating away resistlessly upon 
 the tide of ruin. Often he thought of his mother, 
 but temptation came again and again, and still closer 
 her bonds were tightened around the boy. He beat 
 the current with feebler stroke, and turned to go down 
 to his fate. 
 
 Six months had passed since Mrs. Snyder bid " good 
 bye " to her boy at the old farm gate. Not a waking 
 hour of that time had passed in which she had not 
 thought of him, and lifted her prayer to God to watch 
 over him, and guide his footsteps. As she sat at tht, 
 morning and evening meal, the eye would flood as it 
 turned to a spot at the board no longer filled. In his 
 chamber she thought and dreamed, and with longings 
 which only a mother can know, looked for his coming 
 at some future day.
 
 UNMOORED FROM THE HEARTH. 177 
 
 Che mother may dream, but she shall pass from 
 the earth and see him not. 
 
 And happy for her that she cannot see him now, 
 as he mingles with the abandoned in the dens of vice. 
 The fair cheek is already red and swollen, and the 
 eye inflamed. How swiftly ruin has written its lan- 
 guage on that handsome face and manly frame, and 
 upon his manner and apparel. 
 
 The hallowed face of his- mother mingles in the 
 dreams of his drunken slumbers, like faint sunbursts 
 struggling into the dank and dark dungeon-house of 
 death. Dim, and still more dim, appeared that form 
 as it receded in the distance, leaving the nightmares 
 of ruin to riot undisturbed in the heart of the victim. 
 
 At times, as the fumes of a debauch passed off, his 
 better nature would struggle bravely for a moment, 
 and the yet proud spirit chafe against the fetters which 
 bound him. How eagerly the sick and bruised boy 
 then turned his thoughts homeward, and to his mother, 
 who stood at the old farm gate, as on the night they 
 parted, with outstretched arms to welcome him back ! 
 A thousand times, the first impulse had been, to go ; 
 but instantly a stern and relentless shadow passed 
 in before him, and with fierce words and thongs, drove 
 him back the shadow of his father ! He could not, 
 would not go back as he was, and he had not strength 
 to burst away and win an honored name among men. 
 There was an enemy in his bosom stronger than he 
 a sneering devil, who smiled upon the impotent strug- 
 gles ef the enslaved one.
 
 1Y8 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 Late one night Alfred Snyder was found in the street 
 near the wharf, drunk and asleep. 
 
 "When he awoke in the morning, he was bewildered 
 and lost. He pressed his hand upon his brow, where 
 sharp pains shot fiercely through every vein. He 
 experienced strange emotions the bed seeming to 
 rise and fall as if tossed on an ocean swell. He at- 
 tributed the sensation to his debauch, but he heard 
 the creak of cordage above him, and a sound like the 
 dashing of waves near his head. A dim light strug- 
 gled in through a small window above his bed, and 
 he arose and attempted to stand upon his feet. The 
 room rocked, and he believed himself yet drunk, 
 though he could remember distinctly the scenes of the 
 previous evening. He groped around to find a door, 
 but reeled and stumbled against his bed. That sound 
 of dashing waves still continued, and he shut his eyes 
 to determine whether he was not still dreaming. At 
 last he managed to climb up to the window by stand- 
 ing on the bed, and look out. It could not be a dream ! 
 yet, there met his bewildered gaze one wide expanse 
 of blue water, the long, unbroken swells plunging 
 sullenly towards a faint blue cloud in the distant hor- 
 izon. He was on board a vessel, and the wide waters 
 rolling between him and the shore ! 
 
 Drunk and insensible, Alfred had been borne to the 
 ship which was outward bound for a three-years 
 cruise. As the sun went down that day, he leaned 
 over the bulwarks of the vessel and looked out on 
 the bright pathway of gold, which mockingly smiled
 
 UNHOOKED FKOH THE HEAJtTH. 179 
 
 away towards the distant home. Again he thought 
 of that Eden and its mother, and a hot tear leaped 
 from his feverish cheek, and was borne shoreward 
 by the receding wave. 
 
 We shall make too much of a digression if we 
 trace all the wanderings of Alfred Snyder. He 
 was wrecked on the Barbary coast, and for three 
 years was a slave to the Moor. He escaped from 
 his bondage but to be wrecked again on the west- 
 ern shore of Africa, and struggle for weeks with fe- 
 ver and deprivation. He was at last taken up by a 
 slaver, and afterwards taken by pirates, and entered 
 as one of their number in theii* bloody trade.
 
 CHAPTEK XYI. 
 
 THE STRANGER IN THE TARPAULIN. 
 
 IT was one of the days of late autumn. The morn- 
 ing was cold and cloudy, and the ocean swells came 
 plunging darkly to the shore. A chill wind blew out 
 in gusts, sweeping the water from rising billows, and 
 bearing it along in drifting clouds of spray. The 
 streets were damp from the night before, and all 
 things wore a dismal and cheerless aspect. 
 
 Towards noon the heavy fogs rolled out from the 
 shore, and the sun struggled feebly through the bro 
 ken clouds. Far out, with all sails set, a vessel was 
 beating towards the harbor. But not until late in the 
 afternoon did she drop her anchor at the wharf and 
 furl her damp sails. 
 
 With a glass, one might have stood -on the wharf 
 and noticed a person on the deck of that ship, as mo 
 tionless as a block, leaning over the bulwarks, his chin 
 resting on his hand. The sailors were busy aboard, 
 but he moved not, until the anchor dropped and the 
 vessel rocked like a weary and panting monster at the 
 wharf. He then started like a man from a deep slum- 
 ber ; and paced the deck with a quick and impatient 
 tread. 
 
 A week or ten days from the time above alluded
 
 THE STRANGER IN THE TARPAULIN. 181 
 
 to, a man might have been seen toiling up the long 
 hill which led to the village of Oakvale, with a slow 
 and weary step. His sailor garb was hard- worn and 
 dusty. His feet were blistered from travel, and he 
 carried his shoes in his hand, stopping frequently to 
 rest by the way-side. His face bronzed and weather- 
 beaten, and marked with scars, and grossly red, his 
 eye red and fierce, and his hair long and matted. 
 The frame was a noble one in its proportions, but the 
 step had none of the vigor of mature manhood. Slowly 
 and silently he pursued his way, nor noticed the pass- 
 er-by who turned to look again at the dust-covered 
 and uncouth-looking stranger. 
 
 As he reached the top of the hill overlooking the 
 village, he turned from the beaten path, and seated 
 himself upon the stones which had tumbled from the 
 old wall, and with his arms resting upon his knees, 
 gazed long and earnestly towards the village. The 
 sun was setting without a cloud, and its beams rested 
 in all their autumnal loveliness upon the landscape. 
 Peacefully it went down behind the western hills, 
 and still the traveler gazed, until the mingled hum of 
 the evening sounds came up the valley. The moon 
 was already in the sky, and the soft twilight ; and clear 
 and distinct the church bell pealed out and swelled 
 up, and then rolled away like waves upon the trem- 
 bling air. That iron voice startled the traveler, and 
 a thousand thoughts might have been seen creeping 
 over his swollen features. Again he listened, and as 
 the last notes died out in a murmur, he bowed his
 
 182 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 head and wept. Like the showering rain-, the pent- 
 up drops glanced from the feverish cheek. 
 
 The prodigal stood again in the outskirts of his na- 
 tive village : the scarred and weather-beaten sailor 
 was Alfred Snyder. He had returned, and there he 
 stood on the bridge and looked down upon the shim- 
 mering waters of the stream. He lived again in the 
 past, and stood there as when a boy. But what a 
 shadow had passed over the years of his manhood. 
 
 Alfred entered the village. Many of the buildings 
 remained as when he left, and he walked up the fa- 
 miliar street like one in a dream. How strangely the 
 memories of other years stole back in their early 
 freshness, until it seemed but a day that he left it all 
 and the dwellings and the stream, the bridge over- 
 grown with grass, and the mellow moonlight, the 
 clump of hemlocks below, and the weather-beaten 
 school-house across the pond, were the same as then. 
 It was a happy, an ecstatic dream ; and as he thought 
 of how much he would give were it in his power to 
 buy back the past, and blot out his manhood's years 
 and their dark history, he wept again. 
 
 Here was the old church, the grass green around 
 its old steps, and the tin dome glimmering in the 
 moonbeams. Alfred passed round to the window by 
 the shed, and climbing upon the old bench, peered in 
 through the window. What thrilling thoughts throb- 
 bed in his bosom as he attempted to scan familiar 
 places in the dim light. The moonbeams fell upon 
 the old desk where his father had preached from hia
 
 THE STRANGER IN THE TARPAULIN. 183 
 
 infancy, and across into the family pew. Did lie 
 preach there now, and his mother sit in that old pew ? 
 The outlines of the organ were shadowy. Where was 
 she who once sat at the keys? 
 
 The prodigal turned away from the holy silence 
 which reigned within the church, and passed into the 
 heart of the village. The same tavern sign swung 
 between the posts, and the same " stoop " was there. 
 He passed quickly on, for it seemed sacrilege to invade 
 the better thoughts whicl} now possessed him with 
 the bitter memories of the tavern house. A few steps, 
 and he stood where he parted from his mother. He 
 trod softly, for it was holy ground to him, and invol- 
 untarily looked to see his mother, as she then stood 
 at the gate and wept her good-bye. Steadily the 
 tear drops ran down his cheeks, and he leaned over 
 the gate, yielding himself to the thoughts which bore 
 him away like a flood. There stood the old parson- 
 age the home of his youth ; and he lingered, and 
 looked through streaming eyes, like a returning wan- 
 derer into a holy Eden. The old cherry was there 
 still, its yellow leaves now rustling in the path and 
 upon the green by the roadside. The little porch 
 had not changed, and the wild vines clung to the 
 eaves as of yore. His own chamber window was there, 
 and the low root beneath it. He longed to 20 in and 
 
 o o 
 
 look into the garden, but dared not touch the brass 
 knocker upon the front door. He felt that he would 
 have given worlds to have known if his mother was 
 there, yet dreaded to know. He listened for her
 
 184: MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 footstep as he once used to hear it, when she watched 
 late for his return, but it was the rustling of the leaves 
 which had fallen in the walk. "Was the mother there, 
 or had she passed away, and strangers taken her place ? 
 The moon came brightly out of the clouds, and he 
 passed up to look upon the old lion-faced knocker. 
 As his foot fell upon the sill, the dark shadow of a 
 cloud passed over the sky, and he shrunk timidly 
 back to the gate. But he. felt that he must know, 
 and he again stood within the little porch and peered 
 into the face of the bronzed lion for the familiar name 
 His heart sank within him, for another name was 
 there, and the stern image seemed to frown upon him, 
 and he turned away, as weak as a child. 
 
 "Without a thought, he had turned up the street, 
 and stood in front of the old church-yard, its sable 
 gate standing dark and sombre at the entrance. 
 Guilty as Alfred was, and his hand red with crime, 
 the flowing tears, and the sacred memories which 
 brought them, made him forget his own degradation, 
 and he sought the grave-yard as a place of rest. He 
 had not yet thought that his mother might be there 
 until he stood among the sodded mounds ; and when 
 the thought came upon him, he gasped for breath, 
 and leaned heavily against the fence. That mother 
 had been a beacon which had guided him in his wan- 
 derings towards home, and he felt that if it had gone 
 clown in the grave, there was no hope for him. The 
 bruised prodigal felt that she could save him, and
 
 THE STRANGFR IN THE TARPAULIN.*' 185 
 
 he shuddered as he cast his eye upon the white mar- 
 ble that stood in the moonlight. 
 
 Alfred knew where his brothers and sisters were 
 buried, and, as if dreading some fearful revelation, 
 he passed on among the graves. How loud the sear 
 leaves in the hollows rustled in the stillness of the 
 night. "Weak, trembling, and dizzy, he reached the 
 iron paling, and for a moment shut his eyes in dread. 
 The cold drops stood out upon his brow, and yet his 
 cheek burned hotly. He lifted his tarpaulin from hia 
 head, and as the cool night wind stirred his shaggy 
 locks, he felt strengthened. And there, in that en- 
 closure, stood a large marble slab. With the weak- 
 ness of a child, he reached out and clung convulsive- 
 ly to the monument, and read, as he dropped his hat 
 upon the grave, " Sacred to the memory of MARY 
 SNYDER, who died May 10th, 18 , aged 56." 
 
 His mother was dead, and the grass of four sum- 
 mers had been green on her grave. That beacon to 
 which he clung for salvation, had gone down in the 
 night of death, and he was alone ! Her arms were 
 not spread to receive him. or her tears of welcome to 
 fall upon his neck. Hope died away in the prodigal's 
 heart, the graves swam around him, and he fell heav- 
 ily upon the leaf-covered mound, his scalding drops 
 pouring out the love of years, and mingling with the 
 dew which trembled like gems upon the rank blades. . 
 
 The fallen one would have been happy could 
 he have lain his head by the side of his mother's 
 upon its pillow of earth, and \v ith her been at rest.
 
 CHAPTEK XYII. 
 
 THE TKIAL. 
 
 As the time approached for the trial of Ricks, the 
 circumstances of his crime were again brought to the 
 public attention with an interest equal to their first 
 development. His conviction and execution were 
 looked upon as a matter of course. 
 
 Time had laid a heavy hand upon the murderer 
 during his imprisonment, and the days had been dark 
 and dreary. There were none of kin to befriend him in 
 this great trouble, and there were few in the commu- 
 nity who ever gave a thought to the prisoner in his 
 cell. Elder Snyder had never yet seen Hicks since 
 his confinement, but had contented himself with 
 thundering wrath upon his head from the pulpit. 
 
 But there was one who visited him often. The 
 penitent and humble criminal hac 1 learned to listen to 
 her footfall as that of an angel of peace. To her he 
 was indebted for many a comfort, and many a word 
 of kindness and consolation. Hers was the only 
 countenance which had smiled upon him in his soli- 
 tude. 'Her woman's heart had sympathized with his, 
 and her tears had mingled with his tears, while, with 
 the calm and cheering faith of the Christian, she 
 pointed him to one who could save to the uttermost.
 
 THE TRIAL. 187 
 
 There was a sublimity in the scene the red-handed 
 murderer bowing and weeping like a child, as the 
 gentle friend plead in her sweet low voice for one so 
 deeply guilty. "When those who had shared the pris- 
 oner's too generous bounty left him to his fate with- 
 out a word of commiseration, the daughter of the man 
 who had brought the ruin upon him clung to him 
 like a sister. As Ricks thought of all she had done 
 for him, he forgot much of his bitterness against the 
 father. 
 
 So strong was the current against Ricks, that none 
 of the lawyers would defend him. The ruined man 
 had no money or wealthy friends with which to com- 
 mand aid. On the day before the trial, the one at 
 first retained avowed his determination to abandon 
 the case. 
 
 " You are a sensible man," responded Hermon 
 from his bar, u his case is hopeless. A man would gain 
 no credit or money in such a case. He must swing. >; 
 
 " And he ought to, if ever a man did," continued 
 several in the bar-room. 
 
 " There are those who deserve the rope more ! " 
 hissed the man in the tarpaulin. 
 
 " That may be," retorted Hermon, looking mean- 
 ingly into the face of the speaker. 
 
 " And will hang yet ! " deliberately added the 
 stranger, rising to confront Hermon, that wild eye 
 kindling with unwonted glitter, as it gazed into that 
 of the shrinking landlord. The latter turned away 
 as from a reptile's spring, for there was something
 
 188 MINNIE IIEKMON. 
 
 about the sailor which always repelled too much 
 license. 
 
 " And why, may I ask," said Doctor Howard, who 
 had listened to the conversation. " should not Ricks 
 be defended ? " 
 
 "He owns up, and what's the use?" answered 
 Herrnon, glad to get rid of the sailor. 
 
 " But the worst men ere entitled to counsel Our 
 laws guarantee it." 
 
 " But he has nothing to pay. Can't expect -people 
 to defend a gone case for nothing." 
 
 " Perhaps," coolly remarked the Doctor, " some of 
 his friends will aid him with means, eh ? " 
 
 " What do you mean, sir, by ' 'friends f ' " angrily de- 
 manded Hermon. 
 
 " Those who have Ms mortey in their pockets" re- 
 plied Howard, looking the landlord calmly in the 
 eye. 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? that I have got 
 any of his money ? " 
 
 " I meant what I'said," continued the Doctor, with 
 coolness, in spite of the angry advance and menace 
 of Hermon. " Ricks once had enough to employ able 
 and honorable counsel, and command the respect. of 
 those who like cowards heap their venom upon his 
 name." The shot told, and there was a brief silence 
 in the room. Coloring deeply, the lawyer turned 
 from the bar where he had just swallowed a dram, 
 and inquired of Howard if he meant to " insinuate 
 anytlv'ng by the word honorable."
 
 THE TKIAL. 189 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and to make the matter understood, I 
 now say that no honorable man would desert a client 
 because his cause is bad and his purse empty. I 
 trust there is no insinuation about that ! " 
 
 " Do you mean to say, sir, 
 
 " Just what I did, Mr. Skillott," broke in the Doc- 
 tor, as he saw the former move towards him with 
 clenched fists. " Men who win money so easy, should 
 not desert a client with an empty purse ! " 
 
 " But," said Skillott, in a more softened tone, " the 
 man is a bad man. He acknowledges himself guilty 
 of a brutal murder, and declares his determination to 
 plead guilty. "What is the use of a defence ? " 
 
 "Every man, sir, is entitled to a defence. Kicks, 
 at heart, is no more a murderer than you, or I." 
 
 " How can you make that out? " 
 . " The process is simple. He was maddened with 
 liquor. "When sober, he loved his family and was 
 kind." 
 
 " Nobody was to blame for his drinking but him 
 self, I am sure. It was his own business." 
 
 "The man who sold to him was more to blame. 
 He knew the appetite of Ricks, and how he treated 
 his family when in liquor, and in rigid justice is as 
 much guilty of the crime as Iticks" 
 
 " You 're a rascal ! " belched Hermon, spring- 
 ing for the poker, and brandishing it over Howard'8 
 head. There was a crimson flush upon the cheek of 
 the latter, tut it passed away, and he eyed his infuri- 
 ated enemy with a steady nerve.
 
 190 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 " Keep cool, Mr. Ilermon ; you '11 find it a more 
 troublesome matter to attack a sober man than to put 
 a drunken one into the street." 
 
 " You deserve to be kicked into the street. A 
 murderer, indeed ! " muttered the landlord of the 
 " Home," as he trembled with rage. 
 
 " Mr. Hermon, there are ways of committing mur- 
 der without coming within reach of human laws. 
 But God's laws are plain. You could not sell arsenic 
 to a man who you knew would use it for self-destruc- 
 tion. You cannot dig a pit that a neighbor may fall 
 therein, or let an unruly ox run at large." 
 
 " But, sir, how did /ever touch Ricks' family ? " 
 
 " Touched them with the most cruel torture. You 
 knew that every sixpence Ricks brought you waa 
 needed by his family, and yet you took it to the last 
 one, and sent there that which you knew was destroy- 
 ing them by inches. You laid the train to their door, 
 liable at any moment to produce just such results aa 
 we have witnessed. But for this tavern, Ricks would 
 now be an innocent, a wealthy and an honorable man. 
 If, as in olden time, the blood of the murdered 
 should be traced to the nearest threshold, your own 
 would be crimsoned with the blood of the Ricks 
 family." 
 
 "False as h 11 ! " thundered Ilermon. " I have a 
 license to sell, you abusive scoundrel, and am not ac- 
 countable for other men's doings. I tend to my own 
 business, and I wish others would mind theirs." 
 
 " Be sure you take your license to your grave and
 
 THE TEIAL. 191 
 
 to God ; and may yen find that and your own hand 
 guiltless of others' blood ! Good morning, Mr. Her- 
 mon," bowed Howard, slowly turning upon his heel 
 and going out. 
 
 " Please remember, gentlemen, what that man said. 
 I '11 sweeten him for slander, or my name ain't Her- 
 mon," hissed the exasperated landlord, as he turned 
 into his bar. 
 
 " "We (hie) we will, and more too," stuttered a 
 poor sot, reeling on the " bunk " in the corner. 
 
 " Yes, for the murderers are not all hung yet," 
 added the sailor, as he sat with his chin in his palms. 
 
 " Take that, you devil ! " shouted the gored land- 
 lord, bringing the poker, still in his hand, down 
 fiercely over the speaker. 
 
 "With the spring of a cat, the latter writhed from the 
 blow, and fastened upon the throat of his assailant. 
 
 " Playing poker, eh ? Think to train Tarpaulin be- 
 cause he 's crazy, eh ? Not so easy killing sober men ! 
 Stick to your bottles, and let iron alone, and murder 
 in safety ha, ha, ha!" That half-maniac laugh 
 fairly burned upon Hermon's cheek, so near was the 
 face of the sailor, as he glanced with a fiendish glee 
 upon him. That iron grip would have proved fatal 
 in a moment more, for his eyes rolled back in his 
 head, and his tongue, black and swollen, protruded 
 from his mouth. 
 
 " Stick to your bottles, Mr. Hermon ; there is more 
 blood to shed, and men to hang ! " hissed the sailor, 
 as he released Herrnon, and again emitted that pecu-
 
 192 MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 liar chuckle. When Ilermon recovered his voice, the 
 sailor had gone. 
 
 Walter 1'rayton had just completed the study of 
 the law, and returned to Oakvale on the evening pre- 
 ceding the trial of Ricks. His generous and noble 
 nature was indignant, when he learned that his coun- 
 sel had deserted him just on the eve of his trial. 
 Walter's resolution was taken, and he immediately 
 took his way to the jail, though late in the evening, 
 for the purpose of offering his services in the case. 
 
 It was with the utmost difficulty that Walter ob- 
 tained admittance to the prison. Had not the -jailer 
 been a personal friend, the doors would have been 
 closed against him ; for the sheriff, Landlord Ilermon, 
 had that day strictly forbidden such privileges to the 
 prisoner. "I have already violated the injunction," 
 said the kind-hearted man, as he put the key in the 
 lock. 
 
 As they entered the passage leading to the cell a 
 female figure, deeply muffled, stood at the grated 
 door awaiting the coming of the jailer. As the pon- 
 derous engine swung grating back, the figure, drawing 
 the hood still more closely over her features, passed 
 lightly and swiftly out. 
 
 "That," said the jailer, "is the only person, Law- 
 jrer Skillott excepted, who has ever visited Kicks 
 lince his confinement." 
 
 " I was not aware," said Brayton, " that the unfor- 
 tunate man had any kindred left. Who can she be ? J; 
 he continued, in a tono of surprise.
 
 THE TRIAL. 193 
 
 <( I am not at liberty to tell her name, even to you ; 
 but she is one of the angels of earth, and never fails, 
 in any weather, to visit the prisoner. A thousand 
 comforts, sir, and what is more, kind and forgiving 
 words, have come from her. I have been blamed for 
 it all, but she comes and goes in the night, and I could 
 not help it. Her voice would open the doors them- 
 selves, it seems to me, it is so soft and kind, and her 
 face is so sad. Poor girl, she is seeing sorrow," and 
 the kind-hearted man brushed away a tear with his 
 sleeve. 
 
 Bray ton found Ricks bowed over his Bible and in 
 tears, but the latter welcomed his young visitor with 
 a smile. To Walter's proposition, however, he main- 
 tained a determined opposition for a long time. 
 
 " But," said Walter, earnestly, laying his hand upon 
 the prisoner's arm, " you are not entirely indifferent 
 to the opinion. of the world. You are looked upon as 
 
 one of the most cold-blooded of 
 
 " Murderers, you would say," broke in Ricks, with a 
 shudder, as Walter hesitated. 
 
 "But," continued the latter, "you are not. You 
 were maddened with rum. You loved your wife and 
 children as well as any man. By these memories, 
 and for your own name, it is your duty as well as a 
 privilege to make a defence. To be sure, the case is 
 a dark one, but we can hope for the best." 
 
 " Hope ! " echoed Ricks, in a hollow voice, " I hope 
 for nothing but the rest of the grave ; I dare not 
 hope for Heaven. And yet, Walter, as I am a dying
 
 194: MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 man, I am not a cold-blooded murderer," and the 
 cheek blushed redly at his own words. " I did love 
 Mary and my children. God ! what a horrible 
 dream," he muttered, as he bowed his face in the 
 open book before him, until the pages were wet with 
 hot tears. 
 
 "But I have-not a farthing in the world," said 
 Kicks, looking up. 
 
 " Don't speak of money," quickly replied Brayton. 
 " I am young, and have no experience, but it will 
 afford me a happiness you will not deny me, I am 
 sure, to allow me to aid you what I can." 
 
 " Well, let it be as you wish, but it will be of no 
 use. Yet I shall owe you much for your kindness, 
 for the friends who have remembered me in my mis- 
 fortune are few. But one friend, besides yourself 
 and the jailer, sir, has ever been within these walls. 
 May God bless her for what she has done for me. 
 Her father, though he has ruined me, has even or- 
 dered that a friend should not see me." 
 
 " Her father ! And she whom we met was 
 
 " Minnie Herman" added Ricks. " Her kindness 
 alone has made life bearable. Would that I had her 
 faith in the Redeemer ! " 
 
 Walter went out with a holier love for the rum- 
 seller's daughter. 
 
 The streets of Oakvale were thronged early on the 
 day of the trial. By the time the court opened, the
 
 THE TRIAL. 195 
 
 court-room was packed by the people of the village 
 and the surrounding country, the dense mass swaying 
 in excitement as the prisoner was brought in and 
 placed at the bar. Revengeful feelings gave way in 
 many a heart to the nobler one of sympathy and pity, 
 as those who had known Ricks once, looked upon 
 him now. He had come forth from his cell with his 
 hair of a snowy white, and the form and bearing of 
 an old man. In the darkness of his imprisonment, 
 the bronze had faded from his cheek and brow, and 
 they were now of an ashy paleness. There was a slight 
 flush on his features, as he looked round upon the mul- 
 titude. As he seated himself, his eye fell upon a 
 pitcher of flowers standing before him, made up of 
 the choicest of the season, and tastefully arranged. 
 The prisoner well knew what hand placed them there, 
 and the thought, of her, with the perfume of the flow- 
 ers, stole like a cooling shadow upon his burning 
 cheek. 
 
 "Who is your counsel?" asked the judge of the 
 prisoner, as it was well known that Skillott had re- 
 fused to have anything more to do with the defence. 
 Ricks looked around, and a shadow passed across his 
 features, as he felt that young Brayton, too, had been 
 overawed by the strong sentiment against him. At 
 that moment the stalwart form of Walter Brayton 
 was seen crowding up the opening in front of the bar. 
 Slightly pale, but apparently calm, the boy advocate 
 took his seat by the prisoner, and to the usual ques- 
 tion fh'mly answered " not guilty ! "
 
 196 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 The outside interest increased at the prospect of a 
 struggle, but the cause of the defence seemed so utter- 
 ly hopeless, that the better portion of the audience 
 turned with pity from the prisoner and his counsel, 
 and all wondered at Brayton's temerity in underta- 
 king the case against such odds. Skillott, now en- 
 gaged on the prosecution, smiled with ill-concealed 
 contempt, not unmingled with delight, as he counted 
 upon an easy triumph. Walter's eye fell upon the 
 bouquet before him. To his better-informed mind, it 
 read a language which nerved every purpose within 
 him : " Hope, faith, courage, deliverance ! " Wal- 
 ter at once knew that the messenger spoke to the 
 prisoner, and felt a thrill as he recognized the hand 
 of the author. But what could it mean? As he 
 raised his eyes he saw the sailor gazing upon him 
 with.a meaning but mysterious look. 
 
 We need not follow the trial of Ricks through in 
 detail. The proof was conclusive, and left not a loop- 
 hole for the prisoner to hang a hope upon. 
 
 All eyes were turned upon the prisoner's counsel 
 as he arose to address the jury, and Bray ton himself 
 felt a crushing weight upon him. There was a tre- 
 mor in his voice, and the brief shook slightly in his 
 hand. An insulting sneer rested upon the face of 
 Skillott, as he leaned back in his chair, and with his 
 thumbs in his vest looked Brayton full in the face. 
 
 Braytou was evidently embarrassed, and blundered 
 in his opening. Tu a remark that he was inexperi- 
 enced, Skillott retorted in a whispered insult, but
 
 THE TKIAL. 197 
 
 distinctly heard by Brayton and the bar. The half- 
 suppressed titter stung the young man, but he was 
 calm fearfully cool and calm. The crowd were 
 taken by surprise at the matter and manner of the 
 young advocate. To a voice of unusual depth and 
 power, and a mien noble and commanding, he added 
 a rich imagination, a mind well stored with reading, 
 and a logic relentlessly close and convincing. Turn- 
 ing his kindling eye upon Skillott, he deliberately 
 stated the cause of his treachery to the prisoner, with 
 comments so withering, that the smile passed quickly 
 from the face of that veteran advocate, and he looked 
 more like a guilty one than the prisoner. The bold 
 and successful castigation of one so dreaded in the 
 courts, produced a sensation in the room, and people 
 essayed more eagerly to catch the tones of the speak- 
 er: But as he warmed and forgot himself, they 
 swelled and rolled until distinctly heard by the vast 
 throng assembled without. The oldest in the profes- 
 sion were taken by surprise. Braytou's argument ex- 
 hibited so perfect a knowledge of all the intricacies 
 of the law ; so wide and thorough an acquaintance 
 with authorities ; so complete a mastery of every av- 
 enue to the human heart, skill in attacking and de- 
 fending, and exhaustless power of illustration, that 
 old counselors were spell-bound as he proceeded. 
 
 After going through with the testimony, he con- 
 cluded : 
 
 " Gentlemen, I know not what the result of your ver- 
 dict may be. But beware how human prejudices in
 
 198 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 flnence your decision this day. The unfortunate man 
 whose life is at stake, may be guilty of wrong ; but it 
 is not the part of men of Christians, to pursue an 
 erring brother vindictively into the very presence of 
 a final Judge. I have been pained at the unfeeling 
 and unforgiving character of the public mind in rela- 
 tion to the alleged crime of the prisoner at the bar. 
 He was in prison and you visited him not. The meek 
 and holy Master, who wept over sin and spoke kindly 
 to the guilty, has found no representative in your 
 midst, save one, to extend the most common human 
 sympathy to the lone one in his cell. 
 
 " Gentlemen, you are all the creatures of circum 
 stances of education. The ordeal that tries men, 
 brings out their true character. Who among us shall 
 dare to say that no temptation could shake him from 
 his position? Man does not know himself. The 
 strongest of to-day, tried by adversity to-morrow, may 
 fail the best may err. 
 
 " Lo^k at Ricks, gentlemen ! Until his ruin by 
 a vice now too lamentably prevalent, and the acts 
 now alleged against him, was he not the peer of the 
 proudest in this community ? "Who of you ever heard 
 ought against him or his ? His honor was untarnish- 
 ed by an unworthy word or deed, his generosity al- 
 most a fault, and his worth, as a man and a citizen, 
 equal to any. What wrought his ruin ? The ff.nil 
 and festering hell of corruption, whose fumes even 
 now come up into the precincts of the very temple 
 of justice. Your tavern ruined him. But for that, a
 
 ^ THE TRIAL. 199 
 
 good citizen would stand blameless among you to- 
 day, and a husband and father dwell in peace in the 
 bosom of a happy wife and children. And are there 
 none to blame for all this ruin ? Before God, I be- 
 lieve the people of this community as guilty of the 
 destruction of the Kicks family, as the prisoner at the 
 bar. To be sure, they did not strike the blow. But 
 their agents, the members of the excise board, signed 
 their death warrant ; and while at their homes and 
 their prayers^ the devilish work was carried out. 
 The victim was first bound in the chains of an appe- 
 tite, which has ruined the strongest intellects ever 
 created, his substance taken from him, and his brain 
 maddened with poison. Under the direct influence 
 of liquor, then and now sold by law in this communi- 
 ty, he committed the deed charged upon him. Who 
 placed that temptation in his way? Are none but 
 him guilty of the fatal results? The rum which 
 caused the deed, went from your tavern. As I once 
 dared to say, it has proved a curse indeed. You 
 have, Prometheus like, chained down the victim, and 
 then let loose vultures to tear him. There are acces- 
 sories to this triple murder, who are not punished by 
 law. The people and their agents are particeps wim- 
 inis. They have aided and abetted the sweeping 
 tragedy. There is broad trail of blood from the ruined 
 altar of the Ricks family to your own, and the thresh- 
 old of your tavern. The unoffending wife and inno- 
 cent children died legally died by authority of the 
 people of Oakvale died a revolting and cruel death,
 
 200 MINNIE 
 
 under a warrant, with your names, through your del- 
 egated instruments, attached in full to the parchment 
 of blood ! 
 
 " Gentlemen, this prisoner is not the only one who 
 is to enter this room in custody. Pauperism and 
 crime are being manufactured in our midst at a fear- 
 ful pace. A fearful change has corne over our once 
 peaceful and happy village. Our families have been 
 ruined, and our fields turned to waste. Pauperism 
 stalks your streets in its rags. Blood! innocent 
 blood, smokes hotly from the licensed butchery of the 
 rum demon. There is a note of sorrow, and a maniac 
 wail upon the ear. Mabel Dunham and her imbru- 
 ted father Hinsonin your jail, with the flesh bitten 
 from his arms, and his body drenched in blood an 
 esteemed citizen frozen within sight of his own door 
 the Watt family at this hour weeping around the 
 corpse of a broken-hearted mother Ricks the elder, 
 of revolutionary memory, with the snows of winter in 
 his thin locks, and the frost in his eye a once happy 
 family; at rest in a bloody grave families once 
 wealthy and respectable, now living as town paupers 
 scores now doomed to the same fate, and desola- 
 tion and wo scattering broadcast among all classes, 
 all point to your liquor business as* the source of all ! 
 Blood cries from the ground, and fresh tragedies will 
 startle, when too late, a guilty community from its 
 deathly slumbers. 
 
 " But I will not detain you longer. I leave the 
 fate of the prisoner with you and with God. There
 
 THE TRIAL. 201 
 
 are few to weep in the event of a conviction, for he 
 has no kindred on earth. The last of a noble family 
 is before you, charged with a capital crime. Those 
 whom he loved, as you love those dear to you, are in 
 their graves. Whatever may be the result, may this 
 community bear in mind the period when the prisoner 
 at the bar was all that a parent, husband, and citizen 
 should be, and as you go to your homes this night, 
 ask yourselves the question what caused the fall of 
 one so high in your estimation ? " 
 
 There were few dry eyes in the audience during 
 portions of the plea for the prisoner. The judge's lip 
 even quivered with emotion. In the minds of some, 
 new light had dawned in relation to the liquor 
 business, while others ground their teeth, and watched 
 the bold advocate with lowering brows. 
 
 Skillott's plea was labored and bitter aimed more 
 at Brayton and his " dastardly slanders " upon a re- 
 spectable community and profession. He evidently 
 writhed under the reflection that he had met with an 
 antagonist more than his match. 
 
 The charge was feeling but plain, and after a brief 
 deliberation, the jury returned a verdict of "guilty." 
 On being asked if he had anything to say, Ricks arose 
 and said : 
 
 " I have but a word to say, I wish to look you, 
 gentlemen, in the face, and every neighbor in this 
 room, and before God, declare that I am not a delib- 
 erate, willful murderer. I loved my wife and chil- 
 dren when I let rum alone. To that alone I owe my
 
 202 MINNIE HERMOW. 
 
 ruin and my crime. I do not fear to die, there is 
 no tie which binds me to earth. If my poor life would 
 restore my wife and her children my own good 
 name, and our unblighted home, I should die happy. 
 May all beware of the cause of my fall."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE GALLOWS CHEATED OF A PREY THE PEOPLE OF A 
 
 BIGHT. 
 
 LATE in the night previous to the day appointed 
 for the execution of Ricks, Minnie Hermon was pass- 
 ing from the jail to the " Home." For the last time 
 she had stolen to the cell of Ricks, to administer a kind 
 word, and to ask forgiveness for her father. 
 
 As she passed out into the yard, and between the 
 jail and the court-house, she was confronted by a tall 
 form standing immovably in her path. She was 
 startled, but did not cry out, as many would have 
 done, at so abrupt a meeting in the dark. The intru- 
 der manifested no disposition to stir from the passage, 
 and remained silent. Minnie mustered firmness to 
 demand the cause of the interruption, and who it was 
 who thus intruded himself upon a defenceless woman. 
 
 "A friend. You know ' Crazy Alf.' You gave 
 him bread, and treated him kindly." 
 
 " If you are a friend, let me pass, and you shall 
 never want when you ask bread again. Do not de- 
 tain me here." 
 
 " Miss Hermon is a friend of the prisoner ?" whis- 
 pered All', not stirring from his tracks. 
 
 " I am, and hope you are," replied Minnio, now
 
 204 MINNIE 
 
 thoroughly alarmed, fearing that her movements had 
 been watched for no good purpose. 
 
 " / am must not be hung horrible ! " 
 
 " "What can you mean ? " 
 
 " Hist ! Speak lower. Ricks not a bad man 
 never do wrong again must not Jiang ! " 
 
 " I do not understand you. He is to be hung to- 
 morrow," and Minnie shuddered at the word. 
 
 "Must not hang, I tell you. Murderers not all 
 hung yet give him wings / " 
 
 "How? what? ; ' 
 
 " You do not want him hung do no good bring 
 no dead back. Must let him go ! " 
 
 " How can that be ? Would it be right ? " asked 
 the eager girl. 
 
 " Right to cheat the gallows ? to cheat rum ? 
 to let a penitent go to do better ? " ' No more a mur- 
 derer than / am f. " 
 
 Minnie startled at the firm energy of that " I am." 
 It was ground between the teeth with a shudder. 
 
 " "What can be done ? " she timidly asked. 
 
 " Take this to the prisoner you can do it," and 
 he drew something from his sleeve and held it towards 
 Minnie. She involuntarily reached out and clasped 
 some hard substance wrapped in a paper. 
 
 " God forbid ! You would not have him commit 
 
 " No, no. But he has iron to gnaw before he can 
 fly." 
 
 Minnie was easily convinced that the ends of jus- 
 tice would be just as well answered in the escape of
 
 THE GALLOWS CHEATED. 205 
 
 Kicks, as in his execution ; for her woman's heart 
 shrank from the latter alternative, and she turned 
 back toward the jail. 
 
 The bar-room was full on the evening preceding the 
 day of execution, and the event of the morrow was 
 earnestly discussed. Hermon was mellow, and spoke 
 with brutal levity of his duties as sheriff at the scaf- 
 fold. Rum flowed freely, and the probable bearing 
 of the condemned was canvassed over jingling glasses. 
 
 Unnoticed by the intoxicated group, " Crazy Alt'" 
 had stolen into the room, and seated himself in the 
 corner, behind the stove, his eye wearing an unusual 
 glitter as he watched their movements. In reaching 
 for wood, Hermon stumbled over the strange creature, 
 and recoiled at the touch. 
 
 "Many a worse fall, yet, Sheriff Hermon ! ha ! 
 ha ! " hissed Alf, rising to his full height. 
 
 " Come, come, Alf, none of your vinegar. Let'a 
 be friends, and take something." 
 
 " Guess I will we must know each other better, 
 eh ? " and Alf followed Hermon to the bar. None 
 saw the former turn his brandy down the outside of 
 his throat, into his bosom, but rather made themselves 
 merry over the apparent effects of the liquor upon 
 the half-crazed sailor. Alf craved more, and drank 
 again and again with Hermon, the latter glad to thus 
 win the good will of a troublesome customer. The 
 sailor was forward to display his money, and all drank 
 at his expense. 
 
 Herrn )n was soon reeling, and in passing out of the
 
 206 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 bar to assist a traveler, lie lost his balance, and fell 
 headlong. 
 
 " "Worse falls than that, yet," came from Alf in that 
 peculiar, bitter tone, as Hermon arose to his feet by 
 the aid of a chair and the arm of the traveler. When 
 the landlord of the Home again looked for the sailor, 
 that personage had gone, and none had witnessed his 
 stealthy exit. 
 
 "All drunk and Alf sober. Now for it, while rum 
 and darkness lasts," said he as he swiftly glided down 
 the street. Creeping under a long tier of sheds, after 
 'listening a moment in the court-house grounds, he 
 drew forth a long, light ladder, and carried it across 
 the garden, and to the rear of the jail. All was dark 
 and still, the rain now steadily "falling, and the wind 
 beating in gusts as Alf proceeded to carefully raise 
 his ladder and rest the top against the top of the 
 grated window of the cell where Ricks was confined. 
 At this juncture, the jealous dog noticed the move- 
 ment, and came growling from the woodshed. Alf 
 was a familiar character about the premises, and he 
 called the dog to him. 
 
 " Hate to do it, but men worth more than dogs," 
 he muttered, throttling the unsuspecting mastiff, and 
 cutting his throat from ear to ear. When the dog be- 
 came still in his hands, he dropped him and cautiously 
 ascended the ladder. 
 
 Portions of the iron window had been cut and left 
 to be easily removed, by Aif, some days before, and 
 it was but a moment's work to lift out the bars and
 
 THE GALLOWS CHEATED. 207 
 
 / 
 
 silently tie them to the ladder so as to avoid noise. 
 Lifting the window by hair's breadths, he leaned in 
 and listened for a long time. He had feared that the 
 officers would watch with the prisoner during the 
 night; butllermon was drunk, and the jailer absent 
 by a cunning ruse. Alf could hear but one person 
 breathing in the cell, and he ventured to whisper the 
 name of the prisoner. 
 
 " "Who calls ? " slowly answered the latter, doubting 
 the evidence of his hearing, and rousing from his cot. 
 
 "A friend." 
 
 " And why here ? " 
 
 "To save. Do no good to hang ! " 
 
 Ricks shuddered. The word entered his soul like 
 the chill of death, and crept through every vein, as 
 the scaffold and the crowd loomed distinctly out in 
 the darkness of his cell. To hang ! He closed his 
 eyes to shut out the horrible phantom, but it was still 
 there his neighbors staring at the solemn spectacle, 
 and the victim, wearing his own features, ghastly 
 and swollen, looking down from the scaifold in his 
 shroud of white. 
 
 " James Ricks ! are you ready ? " impatiently de- 
 manded Alf, leaning still farther into the cell. 
 
 " Ready for what ? " muttered the former, confused 
 and hardly knowing whether he was awake or asleep. 
 
 "Ready to leave. Do no good to hang, tell ye. Go 
 off and be a better man." 
 
 " I begin to understand you. But why flee ? " 
 asked the prisoner sadly and proudly. " I deserve 
 
 o
 
 208 MnraiE HEKMON. 
 
 my fate, and will meet it like a man. How conld 1 
 escape if I would ! " Ricks contin led, as a thought of 
 life and liberty shot like lightning to his heart, and 
 made it beat wildly in his bosom. " The brand is 
 upon me, and justice would dog me wherever I went. 
 Do not excite within me hopes which cannot be re- 
 alized." 
 
 " Excite no false hopes. Do no good to hang, tell 
 ye ! nobody thank ye for 't. Go off do good, and 
 die natral." 
 
 Liberty is ever sweet. It lives and throbs in every 
 heart. In spite of crime, of sorrow, of bolts and 
 chains, its flame lingers in the human heart, and kin- 
 dles up at the sound of deliverance. The slave dreams 
 of it while at his task, and in his weary slumbers. 
 The captive watches the sunlight, and the prison walls 
 cannot hide from his vision the distant home and hills, 
 Tyranny cannot crush it ; iron cannot bind it, or steel 
 kill it. 'Mid ruin it smoulders. Like the captive ea 
 gle, it beats its fetters as it listens to the wild scream 
 in the distance. 
 
 Ricks had thought to meet his fate with resigna- 
 tion, convinced of its justice and necessity. But the 
 love of liberty and life is sweet and never-dying. At 
 the word of hope, that love grew wildly strong, and 
 an ignominious death upon the scaffold was dreadful. 
 He quickly rose upon his feet, but to sink again, as 
 the sound of the clanking fetters fell like lead to his 
 heart. 
 
 "JDeoils!" hissed Alf. "Chains on yet? Why
 
 THE GALLOWS CHEATED. 209 
 
 didn't you cut 'em nobody bring a file here, eh ? " 
 and the sailor swung like a cat in upon the dungeon 
 floor. 
 
 "A friend did bring something, but I supposed it a 
 knife, and would not undo it," and here light flashed 
 into the mind of Ricks. 
 
 " No knife file should 'a used it." 
 
 But Alf was not to be foiled. Feeling from the 
 staple in the wall to the ancle of the prisoner, he 
 found a link through which he could put the ends of 
 two of the window gratings, and prying in opposite 
 directions, the link was broken with ease. The same 
 process wrenched the padlock from the fetter, and the 
 limbs of the prisoner were free. ISTone can tell the 
 strange, wild emotions that stirred the heart, for he 
 had given himself up to the hope of freedom, and 
 escape from an ignominious death. Tears fell upon 
 the hands of Alf as the latter removed the iron from 
 the calloused ancle. 
 
 Swiftly and cautiously the two descended the lad- 
 der, and crossed the fields to the river. A skiff was 
 hidden in the underbrush which lined the bank, into 
 which the two sprang, and with a noiseless stroke, Alf 
 struck out for the opposite shore. An hour's walk 
 after landing, took them several miles up the ra- 
 vine, by a foot-path which led over the mountains 
 and across the wilderness to Pennsylvania. At a de- 
 serted sugar cabin, a horse was found saddled and 
 fastened in a dense undergrowth. 
 
 "Haunt!" whispered Alf, with emphasis, as tc
 
 210 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 unhitclied the spirited animal and led him before 
 Ricks. 
 
 " But the horse is not mine," said the latter, yet 
 proud and honorable as in his better days. 
 
 "Devil. I know that ; mine, though. Time lost, 
 tell ye. Away ! Better ride than hang ! " and Alf 
 seized the emaciated form of Ricks in his powerful 
 grasp and swung him into the saddle as though he 
 had been a child. 
 
 " There ! " putting the reins into his hands, "money 
 and bread in bags. Shun daylight and rum. Re- 
 member Crazy Alf and Minnie Hermon ply the 
 gad ! " and ere the excited Ricks could thank his de- 
 liverer, the latter had disappeared with rapid strides 
 down the dark gorge. 
 
 Alf muttered that peculiar chuckle as he listened 
 to the quick ringing of hoofs up the mountain, and 
 strode muttering back to the place where he had left 
 his boat. It was brief work to replace the bars in 
 the jail window, to wrench his ladder in pieces and 
 cast it into the river, and steal away to the deserted 
 hut where he sometimes found a shelter. 
 
 There was intense excitement in Oakvale on the 
 morning of the day appointed for the execution of 
 Ricks. On visiting the cell at day-break, but the 
 irons which were upon the prisoner remained, and 
 no farther signs which revealed the manner of his 
 escape. By the appointed hour, more than five thou- 
 sand people had assembled. To the disgrace of our 
 common humanity, we are compelled to say that a
 
 THE GALLOWS CHEATED. 211 
 
 large class of both sexes manifested much ill temper 
 in their disappointment. The immense throng at the 
 scaffold finally gathered in the rear of the jail, as it 
 became known that the prisoner made his escape from 
 the window, and until a late hour discussed the mat- 
 ter, and gazed at the gloomy window as though they 
 hoped to see the prey of the scaffold still within 
 reach. 
 
 Hermon, intoxicated with excitement and rum, 
 stormed imprecations upon those who procured the 
 escape ; for it was evident from the tracks to the 
 window, that two persons had left the jail. Consta- 
 iMes and parties returned late in the afternoon, finding 
 i\o indication unusual, save the tracks of a horse un- 
 der full gallop, but headed towards the river. 
 
 Alf had himself shod the horse with the shoes re- 
 versed, and with a lurking sneer he walked up to 
 vhere Hermon stood in the crowd, and looked him 
 pteadily in the eye. 
 
 " Bird flown, eh ? Didn't catch him, s'pose. Mur- 
 derers not all hung yet ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 Hermon turned away from that dreaded eye and 
 entered the house. Drunkenness, rioting and horse- 
 racing ended the day's h'story.
 
 CHATTER XIX. 
 
 THE WATT FAMILY. 
 
 IN Rhode Island, many years ago, there lived a 
 Wealthy family by the name of How their worth 
 and standing equal to their worldly means. 
 
 With a morning sky unclouded, and- light with 
 hope, the accomplished and favorite daughter of Major 
 How married an estimable young man by the name 
 of Watt, a gentleman of high integrity, honor, and 
 irreproachable private character. His future was full 
 of promise, and he took his young bride to a homo 
 of happiness and affluence. 
 
 The customs of the day stealthily fastened a love 
 of wine in the system of young Watt, gathering 
 strength while the victim dreamed not of danger. 
 Indeed he would have laughed at the idea of danger 
 to a man of his mind and position. The current 
 swept beneath with a swifter tide, while he beat the 
 waves with feebler stroke. It was long before Ber- 
 tha Watt realized the fall of her heart's idol. Day 
 by day brought the fearful truth to her mind, until 
 the heart-crushing conviction fell like a stunning blow 
 upon her happiness and hopes. She was not the wo- 
 man to complain. Proud of the world's opinion, but 
 meek and gentle, she suffered alone with her tears.
 
 BERTHA. WATT.
 
 THE WATT FAMILY. 215 
 
 hiding the ragged iron in her soul. Bertha had none 
 of that sterner stuff in her nature which rallies as the 
 storm beats down hope after hope ; but alone with 
 her babes, her shrinking and trusting spirit, as mild 
 as the sky of summer, suffered on. The young cheek 
 paled, and the light grew dim in the eye. She would 
 not, for a world, have spoken to her high-minded and 
 sensitive husband of the dark vice which already left 
 a broad shadow of coming ill at their hearth-side. 
 
 In their new home near Lake George, in York 
 State, the almost-despairing wife and mother hoped 
 that her husband would escape many of the baneful 
 influences of the society he had been accustomed to 
 move in. The hope was vain. The drinl^iig usages 
 of pioneer life, though less refined, were none the 
 less general and fatal. And besides, step by step, 
 Watt had lost much of his chivalric pride of charac- 
 ter his manhood was degraded. The crater kin- 
 dled within him, was burning out every sentiment 
 of his better nature. He became familiar with coarse- 
 ness and vice, gambled without hesitation, and was 
 often in a state of shameful intoxication. His busi- 
 ness was neglected and his temper soured ; he spent 
 most of his evenings at the tavern, and when at home 
 was sullen and harsh, or broadly abusive. 
 
 Darkly the days dawned at the neglected hearth, 
 and darker still their evenings. The unkind word 
 and constant neglect, were wringing to agony the 
 heart's every fibre, and unseen tears, scalding with 
 sorrow, were wearing deep channels in the pale and
 
 216 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 wasting cheek. The pure smile and winning way of 
 the babe, or the witching laughter and prattle of the 
 older children, had no power to win a parent from 
 the embrace of the tempter. Home, and its circle, 
 was deserted for the bar-room ; the wife and her treas- 
 ures, for the cup and the boon companion. The trail 
 of all his ruin was broadly slimed <from the threshold 
 to the hearth, and there "Want and Despair sat amid 
 the domestic wreck. !S"o resource of the mother 
 could long keep her loved ones from going forth in 
 rags. The appeal for bread, made in the silvery voice 
 of trusty childhood, was answered with a curse, and 
 from the barren board, the recreant husband and pa- 
 rent went/orth to steep his soul in deeper potations. 
 The child that once crawled upon the knee and threw 
 her light arms over the shoulders, and with stainless 
 lip kissed the bearded cheek, now shrunk away and 
 hushed its half-sad mouth at the dreaded approach. 
 
 And thus an idolized parent's returning tread 
 was tha herald of sorrow and tears, and his darkening 
 form a shadow upon every joy which, like pale flow- 
 ers, still sprung up on the wintry waste. 
 
 From carelessness when drunk, the dwelling was 
 fired, and the family driven from their beds into the 
 enow of a winter's night, one of the older girls leap- 
 ing from the chamber window just as the flaming 
 roof fell in. After this fresh calamity, the family re- 
 moved to Cherry Yalley, and still again to 
 
 county. 
 
 In the haggard and sottish drunkard, none would
 
 TITE "WATT FAMILY. 217 
 
 have recognized James Watt. He was ill-tempered 
 and abusive in the extreme ; quarrelsome, reckless 
 and profane, and outraged nearly all the proprieties 
 of life. At times, he would earn money fast but to 
 spend it in one prolonged debauch. Not a penny 
 ever went for the support of his family. 
 
 Mrs. Watt and her children existed from day to day, 
 ao one knew how^ The children and herself were in 
 rags. Silently and in secret, for tears provoked the 
 harsh word or blow, she wept away her life. With 
 a languid step and a vacant stare, she moved about, 
 hoping for the long rest of death, yet dreading to 
 leave those who now alone bound her to earth. Late 
 at night she toiled, and the morning found her with- 
 out rest. With a compressed lip, she bore the sharp 
 gnawings of hunger, that her babes might not want 
 for bread, and still the moan of the famished one 
 would often pierce the lacerated heart like heated 
 barbs. She was yoked to a living corpse, and as she 
 listened to the snoring of the drunkard in his slum- 
 bers and smelled the stench of the consuming fires, 
 she could look down into a once manly heart, now a 
 seething crater, where all her earlier and brighter 
 hopes lay smouldering in charred and blackened ruins. 
 The lips it had been her pride to greet were flaming 
 with rum and the wanton's loathsome kiss. As she 
 felt new life throbbing in her bosom, she locked her 
 wasted fingers together and prayed to die. 
 
 Ill-fated Bertha ! there was dark ending of life'? 
 summer day after ao light a morning !
 
 218 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 Summer was fading into autumn, and the leaves 
 were already falling. Within a miserable tenement, 
 Bertha "Watt was fading away. Few ever entered 
 the pauper dwelling, and with her children to watch 
 her, she journeyed downward to the dark valley. A 
 few were charitable, and the family were saved from 
 actual starvation. Desolate and cheerless the room 
 and the couch of the dying ; more desolate still the 
 stricken heart, as she looked around upon a group of 
 ten, who were doubly bound to her by the ties of 
 years of common suffering. Yet, blessed God of the 
 poor ! Hope lit her torch at the waning flame of 
 life, and pointed sweetly away, over the misty realm 
 of sod and slab, to one of happiness and rest. 
 
 As the sharp wail of her tears broke upon the 
 night's stillness, Bertha "Watt lay silent in death. 
 The crushed and broken spirit of the meek and in- 
 jured sufferer was free from its wasted temple, and 
 far out upon a shoreless sea ! 
 
 They said she died of consumption. Aye, con- 
 sumption of the heart its hopes, like drops of blood 
 dripping away, through the long night hours of ray- 
 less years. Hidden away, and unseen by the public 
 eye, are such triumphs of the scourge as these, and 
 thickly written in the history of its progress, as are 
 the leaves upon the forest in summer time. 
 
 And there is a place where the weary and the 
 heavy-laden shall find rest ! 
 
 A wide world for the worse than orphans ! Rum 
 had not yet sufficiently ravaged their home. From
 
 THE WATT FAMILf. 219 
 
 the grave of the wife and mother, James "Watt went 
 back to the bar-room, more abandoned and shameless 
 than ever. Rum had burned out the image of her 
 who stood with him at the altar, a trusting and a hap- 
 py young bride. He never gave his family a thought. 
 Penniless, fireless, and breadless, gathered the strick- 
 en group where a home had been. "While the earth, 
 was still fresh upon the mother's grave, the rumsell- 
 ers came with their executions, and stripped, under 
 a stringent law, the very bedding which that mother, 
 in all their misfortunes, had retained, as the gift of her 
 girlhood's home. But another blow came. The im- 
 bruted father sold the cow, and with the proceeds, 
 left the village with a boon companion, and squan- 
 dered it in dissipation. 
 
 Two older sisters fought hard to keep the family 
 circle unbroken. The father returned to curse them. 
 They whom he once loved, and who loved him with 
 all the holy intensity of child-love in return, learned 
 to hate him, and as he went from the dwelling, prayed 
 in hearts fearfully old in grief, that he never might 
 return. And in a land of Christians, James Watt 
 had that dealt out to him for his money which de- 
 monized his manhood, and made him desert and hate 
 his own flesh and blood, and fostered hatred in re- 
 turn ! Slowly the sacred ties which bound parent and 
 child were withered and broken, under the scorching 
 fires of the bowl. 
 
 Money exhausted, the father returned. The elder 
 daughters toiled in a factory, its bell starting them
 
 220 MINNIE HERMOST. 
 
 from feverish slumbers, and its walls a prison to their 
 drooping frames. Every Saturday night, the father 
 would demand the wages of heart and brain-aching 
 toil, and spend the money for rum with his compan- 
 ions on the Sabbath. And many a day did the chil- 
 dren gather around the rickety table, with bran bread 
 its only dainty, a jug of rum upon the shelf, and a 
 drunken father snoring upon the floor. 
 
 The children, who had committed no crime, went 
 hungry and ragged, that the licensed robber might 
 have his plenty ! 
 
 Darker yet gloomed the sky over the "Watt family. 
 As per poor laws of that day, the younger children 
 were struck off at auction, and put out to be kept by 
 the lowest bidder, while arrangements were made to 
 seize the others, and from town to town drive them 
 back to the county they came from. One child-sis- 
 ter, of four years a sweet child in rags, whose tiny 
 hands never wronged a being on earth, and who never 
 knew why .she was a pauper found cold-hearted 
 keepers, and in the winter time, died in the entryway 
 upon rags for bedding, and covered with vermin, no 
 mother's hand leading her into the shadowy land, or 
 Bister's kiss warming upon the chilly lip. The blue 
 eye, which had known little but tears, turned upward 
 to a Christ kinder than men, and glittered with frost 
 in the clear morning sun. 
 
 The grave lies between the two worlds. The win- 
 ter sod shut the infant victim beyond the reach of the 
 scourge, and she wept for bread no more.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " MOEAL SUASION." 
 
 MUCH has been said and written, in the course of 
 the temperance reform, about the power of moral sua- 
 sion. There is a power in its tear and its tone. 
 "With kind words it appeals to the better nature and 
 essays to win back the fallen. With a gentle voice 
 and look it knocks at the heart of the erring and points 
 out a better way. It meets the prodigal with a tear 
 and says, " go and sin no more." In a thousand forms 
 it finds the human heart in its wanderings, and with 
 a tear for its follies, points with a smile of hope and 
 forgiveness back to honor and truth. The proud 
 spirit which would fling back with scorn the hatred 
 of a world, would melt and sway like a summer leaf 
 at the gentle whispering of words of kindness. 
 
 Moral suasion has accomplished much in winning 
 men from their cups more than the penal enact- 
 ments which drag the drunkard from a legalized hell, 
 to incarceration or fine. It has saved many from the 
 fang which glitters in the bubbles on the breaker's 
 brim. Even from the midst of deepest ruin, some 
 word or kindly deed has brought back the erring to 
 virtue and duty. It is doing much yet, and will never 
 fail to do much while there are hearts to love the 
 drunkard and weep over his ruin.
 
 222 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 There are some of our friends who avow their readi- 
 ness to rely solely upon tfie power of moral suasion 
 for the removal of intemperance. It seems to us a 
 strange infatuation. Prayers, and tears, and appeal- 
 ing words, against an evil impregnable in its citadels 
 of legislation, and backed by the whole force of the 
 government ! Would the same friends content them 
 selves with appealing to the incendiary and the mur- 
 derer to spare their homes and their lives, and the 
 torch and the knife at the same time commissioned to 
 do the infernal work, and the hand that wielded them 
 protected by law? "What would the cold-blooded 
 butcher care for the pleading of innocence or weak- 
 ness, when licensed, for a price, to drench the very 
 hearth in warm blood ? And would the incendiary, 
 empowered to burn, and sustained by the so called 
 respectable, in the light of the kindling flame, re- 
 nounce the desolating business which he had pur- 
 chased of government the right to engage in ? 
 
 God never designed that a wicked world should be 
 governed by moral suasion. He himself has put on 
 record penal enactments against sin against vice and 
 crirre. Until human nature is utterly changed, mor- 
 al suasion, as a sole-restraining power, will be impo- 
 tent. All the blessed influences of the Gospel, the 
 influence of home, friends, virtuous teachings, and 
 the hopes of happiness and Heaven, as a motive pow- 
 er, will not restrain the vicious. All men are not 
 susceptible of moral influences. If they were, the 
 dust of oblivion might gather upon our statutes, and
 
 " MOEAL SUASION." 223 
 
 not a crime should mar the harmony of the universal 
 brotherhood of man. 
 
 Those who deal in rum, are certainly the last class 
 which should ever utter a word about moral suasion, 
 and claim that the temperance reform should be car- 
 ried forward upon that basis alone. We could smile 
 at the coolness of the idea but for its insulting wick- 
 edness. It comes with a bad grace in the teeth of 
 facts, upon a record of more than twenty-five years' 
 duration. Here as elsewhere, moral suasion has had 
 its effect, and men, regardful of its influences, have 
 yielded to the light of truth and abandoned a wicked- 
 ness. And in the high noon of our reform, those who 
 still persist, against reason, right and revelation, in 
 the business, ask the people to follow their direction 
 in the matter, and continue a course which up to this 
 day they have utterly disregarded ! 
 
 With legislation against it, it requires the whole 
 power of the temperance reform to keep its giant an- 
 tagonist at bay, while in security it revels upon all 
 which comes within its clutch. Moral suasion knows 
 not a phase which it has not assumed in this great 
 work. From broken altars where every domestic tie 
 lay shivered, prayers have gone up where there was 
 no hope but of Heaven. Gather them from the an- 
 gels' record, and a tempest of prayers would swell its 
 note of accusing thunder. An ocean of tears has 
 dripped its bitter way over cheeks which bloom not 
 again. Days and years have passed by, until ages of 
 sorrow have accumulated in judgment. Wherever
 
 224: MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 the victims of the wrong have loved, and suffered, 
 and died at home, in the alms-house, dungeon, or 
 on the scaffold, the sob, the sorrow, and the wail, 
 have appealed to the authors of all the woe, vice and 
 crime. Mutely, but ah ! how eloquently, the cower- 
 ing and ragged drunkard's child, and the pale-faced 
 wife and mother, have presented to the dealer his 
 cruel wickedness and their bitter wrongs ! 
 
 The rumseller is not ignorant or deaf. He knows 
 the sweep of the engine in his hands. He sees its 
 effects, and while his own neighbors, and kindred 
 even, are demonized and imbruted by the drug from 
 his hands, he sends them home to wound the innocent 
 and the helpless. Every coin he drops into his draw- 
 er, is the price of the hunger, nakedness and degrada- 
 tion of those who never wronged him or his. He 
 knows the enslaved appetite cannot turn away, and 
 he feeds it to the death. He deliberately manufac- 
 tures a kind husband and father into a devil, and a 
 happy home into a hell, where the victim can torment 
 his own wife and children ! Entrenched with legis- 
 lation and leagued with unscrupulous demagogues, 
 they have continued this fearful work against all the 
 efforts of the tongue and pen. Their victims have 
 Buffered, and wept, and died, in vain. Human and 
 divine laws have alike been trampled upon ; and to- 
 day, while preaching moral suasion, they are band- 
 ing to sustain the system of cruelty and wrong at 
 every hazard. 
 
 Moral suasion ! Let the stricken mother go pray
 
 " MOKAL SUASION." 225 
 
 upon the slippery deck of the pirate when blood leaps 
 smoking from the scuppers, and beg the life of her 
 boy ! Send childhood with a tear on its cheek, into 
 the den of the famished tigress, and with a silvery- 
 voice beseech the life of a parent, writhing in her re- 
 morseless fangs ! 
 
 For the universe of God, its wealth and its hon- 
 ors, we would not, in the light of this day, have the 
 guilt of rumselling rest heavy on our soul. 
 
 One more visit to the miserable tenement of Watt. 
 All that the law spared has, been carried off by Watt 
 and pawned at the tavern. The Bible of the dead 
 wife, her only legacy to her children, has been stolen 
 from the place where young Bertha "Watt hid it, as a 
 priceless treasure, and sacred with the heart-drops 
 \vhieh had fallen upon the worn pages, and sold for 
 ruin. 
 
 Little Bernard Watt lay sick unto death. With 
 many a bitter curse, the father had turned from the 
 door, as Bertha plead that her sick brother might have 
 the doctor called, and left for the tavern. 
 
 And all within was hushed and still every foot- 
 fall as light as the falling leaf, for fear of disturb- 
 ing the sick one. With hot tears upon her cheek, 
 Bertha leaned upon the scanty couch, the tiny and 
 feverish hand clasped convulsively within her own, 
 as if to hold the boy-brother to earth. Though pale 
 and fading, the features were classically beautiful ; 
 but a clammy sweat had gathered upon the white 
 brow, rich with the last kisses of a dying mother.
 
 226 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 The chubby cheek had grown thin and touchingly 
 pale ; the eye had lost its laughter, and looked lan- 
 guidly upon the group around him. The white teeth 
 appeared through the half-closed lips, and the rich 
 golden hair lay back upon the coarse blanket pillow. 
 On the fourth day, as -the sun was going down in the 
 west, the child was passing away. 
 
 Through the broken window, a broad beam of sun- 
 shine, like a ray from bliss, entered and trembled for 
 a moment upon the hair, and then burst like a flood 
 upon the pale features of the child. He turned his 
 face to the sun, and a smile, sweeter than the sunlight, 
 came over the wasted and bloodless lips. Upon that 
 golden pathway the little one was smiling back upon 
 kindred angels in Heaven ! 
 
 " Bertha, do they always have sunshine in Heaven ? 
 and will my little flower grow there, and the birds 
 sing ? and will the angels you told me about last 
 night be good and love me ? " 
 
 " Mother is there, she will love you," replied the 
 choking Bertha. 
 
 " How I want to die ! You say I won't hunger 
 there, Bertha, and I '11 have clothes so bright, and al- 
 ways feel happy. I won't cry there, Bertha, will I ? " 
 
 Bertha could not answer from her swelling heart, 
 but the tears wound their way down her cheeks, and 
 fell like rain-drops upon the glistening locks of Ber- 
 nard. 
 
 " Bertha ! " and the boy looked wildly out into 
 the room, and shut his sharp thin fingers tightly upon
 
 AMORAL SUASION." 227 
 
 her arm, and in a whisper continued " Father won't 
 be there to whip us 'cause we can't help crying, will 
 he ? Oh, I hope Mr. Hermon won't go there, to sell 
 any rum. The good God don't sell rum, does he? 
 Why can't you die, too, Bertha, and go when the an- 
 gels come after me ? " Sobs only answered the faint 
 prattle of the innocent. 
 
 " Bertha, give me some more of that toast. When I 
 get to Heaven I '11 tell ma how good Minnie Hermon 
 was to us." Bertha looked, and the toast was gone, 
 and with it the loaf of bread and the wine which 
 Minnie Hermon had brought that morning, as she 
 learned of their sickness and destitution. The father 
 had robbed the dying, and sold the loaf for two drams. 
 There was not a morsel of food for the boy, and Ber- 
 tha's heart almost broke as she thought how cruel that 
 Bernard should die hungry. 
 
 "Bertha I'm going to sleep kiss me. Good 
 night ! Bright ! ma, Bernard com ing ! " 
 
 The setting sunbeams lingered upon the palid face 
 of the sinless sleeper, as the whispers fell with crush- 
 ing weight into the hearts of the little band. The 
 pauper children loved each other. 
 
 The night of death had gathered around the little 
 brother. The pilgrim of four summers had turned 
 aside from a cloudy pathway, and passed directly to 
 Heaven. lie who loved such, led the gentle spirit 
 through the shadows of the dark valley. 
 
 Even in that curtainless, carpetless room, there 
 were gentle footsteps in the depths of the night.
 
 228 MINNIE IIEKMOST. 
 
 where lay the unmatched and unshrouded dead. 
 Convulsive sobbing, and many a flood of tears, and 
 close and warm were the kisses which clustered upon 
 the chill and unanswering lips of all that remained of 
 Bernard Watt. 
 
 * 
 
 Early one morning Hermon met Minnie upon the 
 hall steps, with her work basket in hand and hood on. 
 He had, by dissipation, become utterly insensible to 
 shame, and at times ill-tempered towards all. As he 
 became degraded by his own habits and avocation, 
 and blackened with guilt, he was bitter and revenge- 
 ful. The consuming wreck of his nobler nature kin- 
 dled into intenser flame all that was mean and base. 
 He had just received one of the stinging shots of 
 Doctor Howard, in relation to his treatment of the 
 Watt family, and was much exasperated. 
 
 " Who now have you taken to support I " he angri- 
 ly demanded of Minnie. 
 
 " No one, father." 
 
 " But where are you going ? " 
 
 " To Watt's." 
 
 U D n the Watts! I've heard enough about 
 
 the paupers," he retorted, snatching the basket from 
 her hand, the contents falling upon the steps. 
 
 " What now ! clothing, too, eh ? A fine pass, if 
 I've got to clothe and feed all the paupers in the 
 country." 
 
 " Clothing for the dead, father ; this is a shroud for 
 little Bernard Watt. Jle '* dead ! "
 
 "MOKAL SUASION." 229 
 
 "Pity they wan't all dead!" muttered the thor- 
 oughly bruta 1 dealer, as he turned away. 
 
 Unseen by Minnie, Bertha "Watt had entered the 
 " Home " from the other street, and met Hermon as 
 he left his daugh?er in the hall. Watt had taken a 
 ham which Doctor Howard had sent to the children, 
 and upon the pawn-money was deadly drunk in the 
 bar-room. Boiled turnips and salt, without bread 
 without anything else had constituted their break- 
 fast. From the table, Bertha, with but a thin hand- 
 kerchief upon her head, her heart running over with 
 injuries inflicted, started for the " Home." 
 
 As Hermon entered his bar-room, he started at the 
 thread-bare and shivering apparition before him. 
 Bertha caught him by the hand, and poured into his 
 ear a tale which a damned one would dread to hear 
 a tale of grief, hunger, cold, neglect and abuse. 
 She knelt before the man and wet his hand, in spite 
 of himself, with scalding tears, as she besought him 
 for her mother's Bible, and that he would not sell her 
 father rum. "With an eloquence which is only wo- 
 man's under similar circumstances, she told the his- 
 tory of cruelty in a drunkard's home. 
 
 " Don't come here to blubber, bold Miss.. This is 
 no place for woman. Better tend to your own 
 business, and go to work instead of begging round the 
 neighborhood. Tour father can take care of himself. 
 Better leave, I say," and Hermon put his hand rude- 
 ly upon the shoulder of the girl, and crowded her 
 towards the door
 
 230 MINmE HEEMON. 
 
 "Tliat's (liic) right, Miz-zer Hermoii, turn the 
 (hie) hussy out, by ! " hiccoughed the shame- 
 less father, as he managed to rise from his chair, and 
 thrust his hands into his torn pockets. 
 
 As Bertha stepped over the threshold upon the 
 steps, slippery with frost, Hermon passionately slam- 
 med the door together. Striking her feet as she lin- 
 gered, they were knocked from under her, and she 
 fell quickly and heavily at full length upon the stones, 
 shivered as the limbs extended, and lay still, the blood 
 running freely from the nose and open mouth upon 
 the step. 
 
 " God Almighty's curse upon ye, murderer of the 
 innocent, and robber of men! The gibbet would 
 scorn such carrion, and hell vomit you from its bow- 
 els, John Hermon ! " literally howled Crazy Alf be- 
 tween his fiercely set teeth, as he bounded over the 
 prostrate body, and planted a crushing blow under 
 the ear of the now sobered landlord, which would 
 have felled a trio of such men. " Strike a woman, 
 you cowardly savage ! " he hissed, and ground his 
 heel into the face of the prostrate wretch. 
 
 Alf had seen her fall, and supposing that Hermon 
 had struck her, his half-maniac nature boiled at the 
 act. 
 
 " Murderers not all hung yet ! " he muttered, as ho 
 glanced upon the landlord ; then taking Bertha iu 
 his arms, he carried her to Doctor Howard's. 
 
 Minnie made another shroud, and another grave 
 dug in potter's field. Bertha was with little Ber-
 
 "MORAL SUASION." 231 
 
 nard at rest. The door of Heaven was not shut 
 against them, or the prayer answered with a curse. 
 
 The Watt family were scattered. Their graves are 
 wide apart in this land to-day. Three years ago, in 
 
 county, James Watt died a pauper by the 
 
 roadside, and at the public expense was buried in 
 potter's field. 
 
 The Pilgrim blood of the Watt family, freighted 
 with bitter memories, beats in living hearts, who with 
 prayers of hope and faith await the day when a right- 
 eous enactment shall crush the evil which scourged 
 
 o 
 
 them, and avenge their wrongs.
 
 CHAPTEK XXI. 
 
 A BEACON ON THE WASTE. 
 
 WE will not could not, detail the fearful history 
 of the ravages of rum in Oakvale. The serpent had 
 slimed every threshold, and lay coiled upon nearly 
 every hearth. Pauperism, Yice and Crime stalked 
 hand in hand, and the almshouse and jail swarmed 
 tvith human wrecks. Fortunes, rank and standing had 
 drifted into these receptacles, yet the storm swept on, 
 with not a star of hope in the sky all dark, cheer- 
 less, desolating. 
 
 The wildest dreams of fiction would prove tame in 
 comparison. Tragedies more fearfully startling than 
 Avon's bard ever traced, had often occurred. Scenes 
 which would mock to scorn the artist's pencil, were 
 of daily occurrence. The home where a heart deso- 
 lated clings to and weeps over the wrecks of its youth- 
 idol ; the child-group shivering in the cold, or cling- 
 ing to a mother and asking for bread ; the orphan 
 turned out into the world with no friend but God ; 
 Youth wrecked and palsied with premature age ; Man- 
 hood reeling amid the ruins of moral and intellectual 
 beauty, where a thousand hopes are buried ; Genius 
 crumbling in ruins and driveling in idiocy ; the vir- 
 tuous and high-minded turning away from truth and 
 honor, and plunging into every vice ; the parent and
 
 A BEACON ON THE WASTE. 233 
 
 citizen wandering away from a home-heaven through 
 a dark pilgrimage to a dishonored grave ; hearthside 
 altars cast down, and the home transformed into a 
 hell ; Childhood and Innocence thrust out from the 
 love-light of a mother's eye, to wallow in all that's 
 low and vile ; Poverty and "Want looking with pinched 
 and piteous gaze upon the scanty tribute of Charity, 
 as Hunger drove them out in their rags ; foul and fes- 
 tering Yice, with bloated and sickly features, leering 
 and driveling in leprous bestiality ; Madness, with 
 fiery eye and haggard mien, weeping, and wailing, 
 and cursing in the rayless night of intellectual chaos ; 
 Murder with its infernal ha! ha! .'as with dripping 
 blade, and smoking in hot blood, stalked forth from 
 butchery ; these and ten thousand other combina- 
 tions of warp and woof with rum and skill, would 
 weave a fibre of terrific intensity and power. The 
 hovel, the dramshop, the subterranean den, and the 
 mansion of fashion and wealth, furnished their chap- 
 ters of revolting history. The weird creations of 
 history would be faint copies of what transpired 
 in Oakvale. Religion mourned over the broad in- 
 roads upon her heritage, for from the desk and the 
 bosom of the church of Christ, souls were dragged 
 away. Patriotism turned aghast at the sweeping de- 
 struction of the staunch citizen and the most gifted 
 statesman. Humanity wept over the desolations. 
 Still, men lay down and rotted while they died ; for 
 no brazen serpent had been lifted. There was one 
 
 dead in every house, and still the Angel of the Plague 
 10
 
 234: MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 commissioned by human power, continued to feast 
 upon death in its aceldamas of blood. 
 
 A few of the more striking events may be mention- 
 ed in passing. Leonard Bascomb, a young man of 
 twenty, carried his jug into the woods. A brother, 
 in going after wood at night, drove the sled against 
 him, and rolled the dead body out of the snow which 
 had covered it, the jug clenched firmly in the stiffened 
 fingers. The corpse was carried to a deserted cabin, 
 where the jury of inquest drinked from the dead man's 
 jug before any testimony was taken ! 
 
 Little Willie Warner went from Hermon's with his 
 father's jug, and froze by the wayside. The next 
 morning the remains of the Warner family were found 
 amid the smoking timbers of the burned dwelling. 
 By the headless and limbless trunk of the mother, the 
 white bones of the babe glared in the blackened ruins. 
 None but God knew whether butchery was not there 
 hidden in the ruins, and its blood licked up by the 
 flames. 
 
 An old and once respectable citizen returned home 
 late at night, and in his rage turned his wife and 
 babe out into the storm, and after first burying the 
 axe in the head of one of the sleeping boys, cast the 
 body upon the fire. The older boy jumped from the 
 window, the axe severing his hand as he sprang to the 
 ground. The mother was found dead, nearly naked, 
 and the clothing wrapped around her child, her hair 
 frozen to the cheek of the babe with tears and sleet. 
 
 The West family, mother and three children, were
 
 A BEACON ON THE WASTE. 235 
 
 frozen in one of .the severest storms of the season. 
 The husband had been sent to purchase medicine, but 
 drank, then gambled, and for three days lay at the 
 house in bestial intoxication. The wife was found 
 upon her knees, her hands tightly clasped, and a tear- 
 drop frozen upon the icy cheek ; the babe before her 
 on the floor, its fingers standing out from each other, 
 and the two older children locked together in their 
 crih, as if to keep each other warm. George "West 
 became sober, but to learn the extent of his wicked- 
 ness, and to live on helplessly insane. For years he lin- 
 gered in the asylum, and called piteously for his wife 
 and children. 
 
 But it is painful to linger over so extended and 
 dark a record. 
 
 About this time, the news came that temperance 
 societies were forming in the eastern part of the State. 
 It was received with a laugh of scorn by some, and 
 astonishment by all. As the object became known, 
 and the pledge, the astonishment was greater still. 
 Pledged to abstain from even the moderate use of al- 
 coholic drinks ! It was the very essence of fanati- 
 cism ! So radical an inroad upon the good old cus- 
 toms of the times, was truly startling 'twas outra- 
 geous. What was the world coming to ! What could 
 people do without ardent spirits ? They could not 
 withstand hard work, grief, heat, cold, or wet. Men 
 must be crazy to think of such a thing. Temperance 
 was a good thing, but this was going altogether too 
 far, and the people would not stand it. Some were
 
 236 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 wiser than tlie common bar-room rabble, and saw in 
 the new movement only a scheme of priests for the 
 union of church and state. Good citizens were im- 
 peratively bound to frown upon the mad scheme of 
 designing men. 
 
 In due time a temperance meeting was announced 
 for Oakvale. The churches were closed against the 
 agent, and after much wrangling, the school-house 
 was selected for the occasion. 
 
 Such a commotion in Oakvale I The rumsellers, 
 old Ilermon conspicuous among them, felt outraged 
 indignant at so disgraceful a proceeding. They were 
 as much friends of temperance as anybody, but tliis 
 priest-craft, speculation, and union of church and 
 state why, such men ought to be rode out of town. 
 Groups discussed the momentous question every night 
 until the meeting, and the tipplers hiccoughed 
 amen. 
 
 The afternoon came, nearly every drunkard's wife, 
 some of the middle class of women, a few of the bet- 
 ter citizens, and the rumsellers and tipplers, were all 
 that attended. Many of the wealthier class did not 
 deem the matter of the least consequence, and paid 
 no attention to it. None of the clergymen were pres- 
 ent. The old soaks looked knowingly, and winked at 
 one another with mock gravity. The dealers sneered 
 upon the whole transaction, and felt sure of looking 
 down the hot-headed affair. Crazy Alf sat with his 
 chin in his palms, as usual, and behind him, old Bar- 
 ney Kits. The rumsellers were flanked by their
 
 A BEACOX ON THE WASTE. 237 
 
 best customers, not omitting Counselor Skillot, of pu- 
 ritanic phiz. 
 
 The speaker was a clergyman, of medium height, 
 slightly gray, benevolent countenance, and great good 
 humor. As calm as a summer's morning, he arose, 
 and in a familiar and unassuming manner, introduced 
 his subject. He told no anecdotes, made no start- 
 ling appeals ; but in a plain, common-sense manner, 
 detailed what all knew to be facts. He dwelt upon 
 intemperance, its desolations in the domestic circle, 
 its annual destruction of drunkards, its direct agency 
 in producing pauperism and crime, and in increasing 
 taxation, and showed the necessity of doing something 
 to arrest the growing evil. All classes would see the 
 necessity of such a step, for nearly all had been in- 
 jured by its ravages. The pledge was proposed as the 
 instrument of the measure, concentrating and har- 
 monizing action, and bringing the friends of the meas- 
 ure upon a common platform, where their influence 
 would be more efficient. It was a fraternal bond. It 
 had been objected that men who took it would sign 
 away their liberties. What liberties ? The liberty 
 to use that which produced individual degradation 
 and family ruin? Which destroyed industry and 
 brought beggary in its train? To be sure, all -who 
 drink do not die drunkards. But from drinkers 
 comes the vast array of drunkards who go down to 
 premature graves. Here is a safer path. None 
 who go this way, are in danger. None who go the 
 other, are safe. It was not expected that the drunk-
 
 238 MINNIE IIERMOX. 
 
 ards could be saved. They were bound by an appe- 
 tite which could not be controlled. Those who were 
 not yet slaves, ought to turn away from the tempta- 
 tions of the cup. Those who had not yet formed an 
 appetite, ought certainly to give their names and 
 their influence to save the youth of the land from 
 destruction. The pledge was merely an expression 
 of sentiment in union as touching one object, com- 
 mitting those who signed it against the prevalent 
 evils of intemperance. Society was a pledge gov- 
 ernment was a pledge the church was a pledge. 
 But it was said that the signing of a pledge was an 
 acknowledgment of weakness of danger from in- 
 temperance. It was but an expression of opinion 
 publicly made, a solemn giving of name and influ- 
 ence to a certain object. It was said that men did 
 not need a pledge. The pledge makes a resolution 
 stronger, and brings those of similar views in closer 
 union. The Declaration of Independence was a 
 pledge. Those who staked life, fortune, and honor, 
 in signing it, did not deem the act any impeachment 
 of their patriotism or of their strength of attachment 
 to the principles of liberty. It was the great anchor 
 of freedom, thrown out in the storm, and held indis- 
 eolubly together, while giving them strength and in- 
 fluence to contend with England. The speaker con- 
 cluded by an earnest appeal to all good citizens to 
 come forward in the work, and presented for the ac- 
 tion of the meeting, the pledge, constitution, and form 
 of organization. After a few moments' silence, Her-
 
 A BEACON ON THE WASTE. 239 
 
 mon moved that Counselor Skillot be the president 
 of the new temperance society. In good faith, the 
 speaker put the question, and it was adopted amid 
 the tittering of Hermon's crew. Doctor Howard, 
 from the first, had seen the truth and the necessity of 
 the very measure proposed, and eagerly entered into 
 the plan, determined to follow Hermon with some- 
 thing more than child's play, and immediately nomi- 
 nated Walter Brayton as secretary. The motion was 
 carried, putting a more serious aspect upon the affair. 
 Treating the matter seriously riled Hermon, and, for 
 the purpose of insulting Brayton, Howard, *and the 
 movement, he nominated Crazy Alf as a committee on 
 resolutions. A few tittered, but the most of them 
 anticipated trouble for the aggressor. Alf raised 
 x> his full height, and leveling his long finger at 
 Hermon, and hissing between his clenched teeth, 
 retorted : 
 
 "And Crazy Alf moves, Mr. Speaker, that Mr. 
 Hermon be a committee to look after drunkard's 
 wives and children, and report number and condition 
 to the next meeting ! " 
 
 The thrust went to the red, and Hermon belched 
 out : 
 
 " Turn out the drunken vagabond. I did n't come 
 here to be insulted." 
 
 " I 'm not in your bar-room, sir," continued Alf, 
 walking towards Hermon ; " nor am I drunker than 
 the man I bought my liquor of." 
 
 Hermon drew his fist menacingly, but quailed as
 
 240 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 he looted into the glittering eye and upon the huge 
 proportions of his antagonist. 
 
 " Stop to measure when you strike men, eh ! " con- 
 tinued Alf, as he surmised the thoughts of the land- 
 lord. "'Twan't so with ha, ha! with Bertha 
 Watt!" 
 
 The barb went to the feather, and was sped by the 
 hand of a customer. Skillott wanted to know if 
 gentlemen who came here were to be abused by 
 drunken men, and Ilermon, muttering curses, indig- 
 nantly left the house. His friends finally left, one 
 after another, and the remaining people proceeded 
 with the organization. You can see, quietly remark- 
 ed the speaker, that Satan's kingdom is divided 
 against itself and must fall. Whereupon Deacon 
 McGarr, with an air of holy horror, also left. Skillott 
 sat uneasy, but wished to see the end of the meeting. 
 He declined signing the pledge when it came round 
 he was not exactly prepared to give an opinion 
 upon the matter, and he stroked his chin, and looked 
 uncommonly candid and wise. The pledge had pas- 
 sed, w r hen what was the surprise of those present to 
 see Alf step boldly forward and append his name to 
 the pledge " Crazy Alf." 
 
 Skillott, at the close of the meeting, went immedi- 
 ately to the tavern, where the tipplers and some of 
 the neighboring magnates were busily discussing the 
 temperance meeting. The would-be demagogue here 
 appeared in his true colors, and in low and vulgar 
 slansj heaped abuse upon the movement. Ilermoa
 
 A BEACON ON THE WASTE. . 
 
 declared it was all got up by Howard and Bray ton 
 to injure him, and as for Alf, he should never have 
 any more liquor at his bar. 
 
 " Without the money," put in old Barney. 
 
 " Shut up, you old devil ! " snapped Hermon, " or 
 I '11 start your drunken carcass forthwith." Barney 
 loved .rum, and smothered the cutting reply that came 
 to his tongue's end. 
 
 " Let 'em come here to get me to sign the pledge," 
 sneered Hermon, as he resumed his conversation with 
 Skillott. " But what '11 you do ? " 
 
 " O ! let me alone for that. I '11 write 'em a letter 
 declining the honor ha, ha ! and tell 'em a thing 
 or two. I only wanted to see which way the cat 
 jumped." 
 
 That was a capital idea, and the company drank 
 around, Hermon getting in better humor and treating 
 old Barney. 
 
 A committee had been appointed at the meeting to 
 obtain signatures to the pledge. Doctor Howard was 
 one of the committee and boldly offered the paper to 
 all. Hermon and the brother grog-sellers were al- 
 ready friends of temperance men, but these fanatics 
 were making altogether too much fuss going too 
 far. Better mind their own business. He had as 
 good a right to sell liquor as the Doctor had to sell 
 medicine. It was his business to get an honest living, 
 and tend to his own concerns. If his neighbors want- 
 ed to combine against him, they could work at it. 
 He had done a good deal for the place, and did not
 
 242 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 expect to be abused because he was trying to accom- 
 modate the public and support his family. 
 
 " By robbing other families ! " put in Alf, who had 
 come up unobserved. Hermon wanted no more en- 
 counters with that personage, and turned into his 
 bar. 
 
 Drunkards would not sign the pledge it was 
 signing away their liberties glorious privileges their 
 fathers fought for, while the better class, so called, 
 looked over the list of names with undisguised con- 
 tempt. They would not be found in such company. 
 It was well enough for drunkards and women, but 
 too vulgar for their countenance. Even the sister of 
 George West turned up her nose as Minnie Hermon 
 asked her name. Let weak minds take the pledge, 
 for her part she should be ashamed if she thought 
 there was any need of her signing it. Others tittered 
 as they saw the name of Alf, and of some poor women 
 in the neighborhood. Howard was often discouraged, 
 but believed himself right, and had the moral cour- 
 age to stand by it. 
 
 Many were the sharp and witty sayings about the 
 " cold-water " scheme. There were merry times in 
 the bar-rooms, but many looked thoughtful as some 
 worthy citizens gave their names to the move. Alf 
 stood by his pledge, and became a theme of remark, 
 especially as he waged an incessant and bitter war 
 upon the rummies, and drew off some two or three 
 of the hardest customers. Many a plan was laid to 
 get the renegades to drink again.
 
 A BEACON ON THE WASTE. 243 
 
 Slowly and dimly the star of the reform went 
 up. From the pulpit and the church it met with op- 
 position. But in desolate homes, and with a mmsel- 
 ler's daughter, it found hearts which watched its 
 early dawning with earnest hope.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN. 
 
 THE old pledge was the entering wedge of the tem- 
 perance revolution. It was an untried experiment 
 the commencement of a great work. More could not 
 have been achieved at the time. It was the first dis- 
 tant and rudely constructed parallel before the over- 
 shadowing fortress of the monster iniquity. It was 
 but the faint bugle blast upon the stillness of the 
 slumbering dead, and few were the friends who 
 aroused to the unequal strife. It. but heralded in 
 feeble foreshadowings the coming of a brighter day. 
 It performed its work, but scarcely left a mark upon 
 the enemy. 'The tenderly feathered missiles fell short 
 of the mark, harmless and inefficient, in effecting the 
 final object. 
 
 Deacon McGarr found no trouble in adhering to 
 the pledge. He drank with the drinkers, yet pre- 
 served it inviolate. "While the ragged bloat at his 
 elbows swallowed his raw grog, the Deacon sipped 
 his wine, and descanted eloquently upon the virtues 
 and duties of temperance. He faithfully warned them 
 of the danger of such habits the good temperance 
 man ! Many were the nights lie went home from the 
 tavern heavy-laden with the beverage, and then ad-
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN. 245 
 
 ded the usual mug of hard cider before retiring to his 
 deep and peculiar slumbers. 
 
 Early in the winter, McGarr and Barney Kita 
 started for home one night, and as neighbors, became 
 more than usually friendly as they assisted each other 
 arm in arm. It would have puzzled an observer to 
 have determined which was the drunk one. Striking 
 a drift in the path, McGarr stumbled, and. breaking 
 loose, the two parted, the Deacon falling on his face 
 in one direction, and Barney backwards in another, 
 into the drift to the arms, in a sitting position. 
 McGarr was soon upon his hands and knees, grunting 
 with his exertions to rise, and spitting the feathery 
 snow from his mouth. He partially succeeded in 
 rising, but stepping upon Barney's jug, it rolled from 
 under him, and down he went, this time in a sitting 
 posture, the snow gushing up like spray as he settled 
 to the crust. It was in vain to try to raise square- 
 ly up. 
 
 " Barney, my f-friend ; why the d-dogs don't you 
 Qiic) help a where be you, B-arney? n 
 
 " Halloo, Deacon ! you th-there ? " 
 
 "No; I'm here." 
 
 " So be B-arney, 
 
 An' that that f-fast anchor'd hi -hile, 
 And they do (hie) .roll ' 
 
 You you there yet, Deacon ? Where's my ]-ug ? " 
 "No, I'm here. Your your jug, Barney, has 
 has (hie) throwed me down."
 
 246 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 " Me too, many a -a time." 
 
 " Barney ! you o-ought not to (hie) drink so, yon 
 hadn't. Barney, help me up. This cus this 
 con-f-ounded crick in my (hie) back, h-olds me 
 down, B-arney." 
 
 " The creek went d-own your throat, I guess," re- 
 plied the ever witty Kits. 
 
 " My friend, I I'm Deacon Mc-McGarr. You 
 should speak properly you should." 
 
 " And I 'm Barny Kits. I re-re I regret to see a 
 deacon so-so spiritually inclined." 
 
 " I am lame, Barney ; assist me if you p-lease," 
 and McGarr wallowed over within reach of Barney. 
 
 " Lift, McGarr ! now he-he heave ! " 
 
 Barney had crawled up to McGarr and caught 
 awkwardly into the skirts of his coat, and was lifting 
 as awkwardly, managing in the operation to pull the 
 coat over McGarr's head and wrongside out. At the 
 same time McGarr had, fastened one hand into the 
 Beat of his pantaloons, and the other into Barney's 
 shirt bosom, and was tugging and blowing industri- 
 ously to raise himself upon his feet. At last they 
 both managed to get upon their knees, and their arms 
 around each other's neck, and leaning hard upon each 
 other, trying to rise, McGarr lurched and both fell 
 sideways into the snow. Here they were sprawling 
 and clinging to each other as Doctor Howard drove 
 nearly upon them with his horse and cutter. With 
 considerable effort he lumbered them into the cutter 
 and drove back to the tavern. As they were aided
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN. 247 
 
 into the bar-room. Deacon McGarr felt that he must 
 say something about Barney's drinking. The latter, 
 as he came to the fire, had lopped helplessly down 
 upon the floor. 
 
 "What a (hie) a sad sight to s-ee a man in 
 euch a sit-sit-sittyation, Doctor How-ard ! " 
 
 So it was ! But Barney was no drunker than the 
 Deacon, yet the latter had violated no pledge, and 
 was a temperance man in good standing. 
 
 Our readers will see the working of the old pledge. 
 The appeal to the bloated customer of the dramshop 
 fell with pointless effect from lips fuming with wine. 
 The effects of wine and common whisky were the 
 same. They both produced drunkenness. Day by 
 day and step by step the wine drinker went down- 
 ward, until he became a common drunkard and an 
 outcast, yet violated no pledge until he commenced 
 upon " ardent or distilled spirits ! " 
 
 The history of those who attempted to reform under 
 the old pledge, is a sad one. In a milder garb the 
 enemy lurked in the wine cup, and the still bound vic- 
 tim went back to ruin. The demon glittered in the 
 first drop. The light of the wine bubble would kin- 
 dle into intensity the fires deepest smouldering in the 
 crater. The milder drink was the sure precursor of 
 the flood in its fury, and there was no safety to the 
 reformed one. The wine drinker might reel from the 
 midnight revel, or drool in the saloon, and yet be all 
 that the old pledge demanded. The sot caught sight 
 of the first beacon flame which shone dimly into the
 
 24:8 MINNIE HEKMON". 
 
 surrounding darkness, and turned to greet its better 
 promise. The power in the wine glass, the beer or 
 cider, harassed his footsteps, and plunged him again 
 into the abyss, where he beat the wave with a feeble 
 hand. Few of the baser streams were dried up, for 
 the fountain head flowed on as ever, from the side- 
 board and the social and festive party. The blasted 
 wrecks in the drunkery were but the legitimate re- 
 sults of the very priviliges tolerated under the old 
 pledge. It was but a cobweb around the uncrippled 
 folds of the Hydra. Not a head had been successfully 
 struck off. The wine drops were but the bloody seed 
 of new monsters, for not a wound had been seared in 
 the contest. 
 
 At this point the Total Abstinence Pledge was 
 brought out. It followed naturally in the footsteps 
 of the other. The old had prepared the way for the 
 new. It added a brighter glow to the first beacon 
 light. 
 
 From the truest friends of the cause it met with 
 stern opposition. These men saw in it ruin to the 
 great work. It was the extreme of ultraism. It was 
 too radical. Its adoption would destroy what little 
 good had been effected, and forever block the work 
 so auspiciously begun. The contest was fierce be- 
 tween temperance men. A large class were honestly 
 fearful of the result from love of the cause, while 
 others clung to their "harmless beverage." Many 
 of the latter class occupy the same position to-day, 
 never have advanced. They broke off during
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN. 249 
 
 the struggle, and there they remain, such as have not 
 gone down prematurely to their graves. 
 
 But the cause remained firm during the ordeal. 
 The poorer material came out without the dross, and 
 the choicer spirits gathered in closer union on the ad- 
 vanced ground. The result proved the wisdom of 
 the movement. It gave the reform strength and 
 power, and proportionately weakened the enemy. In 
 the bar-rooms and shops the opposition to the new 
 pledge was the fiercest. Rumsellers were indignant 
 at this most fanatical crusade against their " living," 
 and infatuated customers grew eloquent in descanting 
 about the liberties fought for by their fathers of the 
 revolution. The cry of fanaticism was rung upon all 
 its charges, and some well meaning ones joined in the 
 general crusade against the wild scheme of total absti- 
 nence. Muddled wit poured its lowest wrath of 
 slang phrases upon the fanatics. Nowhere .were 
 there so many tears shed over the mad movement as 
 in the dram-shop circle. 
 
 " What do you think of this new cold-water move- 
 ment ? " asked Counselor Skillott of Doctor Howard. 
 
 " What movement ? the new pledge ? " 
 
 " Yes, the total abstinence, as they caL it." 
 
 "It- meets my hearty approbation. Does it not 
 yours ? " 
 
 " I can't say it does." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " O, it 's fanatical in the extreme. It is an ill 
 judged move, and will most certainly ruin the tern-
 
 250 MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 perance cause. It is the result of zeal without knowl 
 edge." 
 
 " How will it ruin the cause ? Is n't temperance 
 right?" 
 
 " O, yes ; temperance is a good thing. I 'm a tem- 
 perance man ; but this is carrying things too far men 
 will not go it." 
 
 "Will total abstinence injure a man? Do you 
 know of a man who would be injured by taking and 
 adhering to the abstinence pledge ? " 
 
 "Ahem it would be well enough for drunkards, 
 but men of mind and moderation will not bind them- 
 selves to, or countenance so unreasonable a scheme. A 
 moderate glass will hurt no one. Because men abuse 
 a necessary beverage, it is no reason why all should 
 discard it entirely." 
 
 " Should friends of temperance recommend for the 
 drunkard that which they will not themselves put in 
 practice? Should men whose appetites do not con- 
 trol them, and consequently can make no sacrifice, 
 hesitate to countenance a measure which is the drunk- 
 ard's only hope ? You speak of a ' moderate glass.' 
 Is it the first glass which makes the drunkard ? Are 
 they not all moderate drinkers on the start ? If there 
 were no moderate drinkers, would there ever be any 
 drunkards ? As to the abuse of it, Mr. Skillott, I take 
 higher ground. From the light of science, I affirm 
 that its moderate use is an abuse. It is an element 
 of discord and derangement in the whole animal econ 
 omy, and an injury to every man in health."
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN. 251 
 
 " But that it is good as a medicine, you will not deny.' 
 
 " And so is arsenic. But, because men may take 
 tne one for a medicine, would it be expected that he 
 should become a habitual user of it in health ? " 
 
 " But is n't it needed in cold weather ? " 
 
 " Never ! I could point you to those in this neigh- 
 borhood, whose drinking habits were anything but 
 beneficial in cold weather." 
 
 " But men kill themselves with axes and knives." 
 
 " Very true. But did you ever hear of their form- 
 ing morbid appetites for the use of them, becoming 
 murderers or suicides from whittling or chopping cord- 
 wood?" 
 
 " But," continued Skillott, evasively, " sober men 
 will not go the total abstinence pledge it would be 
 an acknowledgment of their fear of becoming drunk- 
 ards." 
 
 " You petitioned for a permit to keep a dice table : 
 was it because you wished to become a gambler? or 
 for the benefit of others ? " 
 
 The thrust went home, and Skillott declared him- 
 self abused, and entered his office. As Howard pas- 
 sed the tavern, a number accosted him from the stoop 
 about the new cold-water trick. Among others, Her- 
 mon assailed him, and charged him with slandering 
 him at the meeting the night before. 
 
 "How, Mr. Hermon?" 
 
 " By saying that all the tavern-keepers were ene- 
 mies of temperance. I am as much of a temperance 
 man as you are."
 
 252 MTXNIE HERMON. 
 
 " lla, ha ! " answered Howard, looking Hermon 
 steadily in the eye. 
 
 " "What are you laughing at, sir ? " asked the latter, 
 evidently nettled. 
 
 " At a temperance man's peddling rum to drunk 
 ards ! " 
 
 " You lie, sir ! I never sell to drunkards." 
 
 "But sell until they are drunkards, and then turn 
 'em out for Shimer to finish'! " 
 
 " I want you and the rest of your crew of fanatics 
 to understand that I do not wish any man to become 
 a drunkard." 
 
 " But still engage in the only business that makes 
 drunKards ! " 
 
 " It 's false ! You are always slandering me." 
 
 " Mr. Hermon, was there ever a drunkard in this 
 community before your tavern was started ? " 
 
 " Then you would say that /made 'em all ! " 
 
 Who did?" 
 
 u It was their own doings. I only sell as I have a 
 license to do." 
 
 " And if you had a license to teach theft, you would 
 not be responsible for the thieves you made, would 
 you ? " 
 
 " But you can't make your total abstinence business 
 go down in this community. People won't submit to 
 it. It will ruin the temperance cause." 
 
 " That 's a (hie) fact," stuttered a poor ragged ob- 
 ject at Hermon's elbow. " Will roo-o-in the t-(hic) 
 the t'hemperance cause."
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN. 258 
 
 " Better ruin that than to ruin men" coolly answer- 
 ed Howard, looking upon the reeling creature. 
 
 " He (hie) he abuses us, don't he Miz-zer Her- 
 nernion ? " 
 
 Howard was determined to cut deeper, and con- 
 tinued : 
 
 "You complain because I stated that there was 
 no safety in the old pledge to the drunkard that not 
 a rumseller in town would refuse. the reformed man a 
 glass of beer if he knew it-would send him back again 
 to his old habits." 
 
 " I do. You state that which is not so." 
 
 " Did n't you let Miller have beer, knowing his ap- 
 petite for liquor, and that it was a trap to make him 
 break his pledge ^" 
 
 " Who says that ? " 
 
 "/say it!" 
 
 " It 's false, I tell you. What is a man good for if 
 he can't stand a glass of beer ? He no need to have 
 drinked it." 
 
 " But you saw him teazed until he did drink it, 
 knowing that the liquor once down, the man could 
 not control himself; and then you let him have 
 brandy, and boasted that you knew he wouldn't 
 stick." 
 
 " What business is that to you, if I did," growled 
 Ilerraon, with ill-suppressed excitement. 
 
 " It 's my business to denounce the act as most 
 devilish. It shows your hypocritical love of the old 
 pledge and of temperance. An infernal imp might
 
 254 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 blush to see a man plotting another's fall and then 
 rejoice in the ruin." 
 
 " It shows all the honesty there is to your temper- 
 ance men. They can't keep from drinking." 
 
 " Herrnon, you are a cool, brazen-faced scoundrel, 
 and richly deserve hanging for the death of Miller. 
 If his spirit don't haunt you, it will be because it will 
 shun the den where the body was slaughtered." 
 
 " Who says Miller is dead, you black-hearted 
 fanatic ? " 
 
 " I say so. I saw him die this morning, arid his 
 death dates from the trap you and Skillott set to heap 
 ridicule upon the temperance cause." 
 
 " And because men will make fools of themselves, 
 you would deprive me of an honest living ? " 
 
 " Deprive of the power to plunder community, and 
 destroy your own neighbors that 's all." 
 
 " You 're an abusive knave ! I believe you would 
 joy to see rne a pauper. It's all of a piece with 
 your new schemes to ruin honest men." 
 
 " You may as well be a pauper as to make paupers. 
 A pretty temperance man, and prating too about the 
 old pledge ! Not a drunkard has fallen who does not 
 owe his ruin to you and your co-laborers in ruin. 
 You smile while preaching temperance and offering 
 our reformed men beer, knowing all the time that one 
 glass is their ruin. It all convinces me that our new 
 pledge is right ; for a reformed man should not only 
 shun all that can intoxicate, but the very place where 
 the accursed poison is kept. There is no safety in the
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN. 255 
 
 associations of men who are so utterly base and heart- 
 less as to work the ruin of one who would live and 
 die a sober man. God deliver us from such fiends, 
 and keep the reformed drunkard from their accursing 
 influence. Hell knows no blacker depravity than 
 that which would drag a fellow again to degradation, 
 or a more rascally falsehood than their pretended 
 temperance. Satan was as much a friend of human, 
 happiness when he slimed into Eden. The very 
 threshold you stand upon, Hermon, is smoking with 
 blood, and for the universe of God, I would not have 
 on my hand the stain of such guilt as is on yours. You 
 know what you are doing. You know that the old 
 pledge is worthless, and that you rejoice in seeing it 
 broken. I once petitioned for your license. If God 
 will forgive me for that, I never will commit so great 
 a sin again. So long as you sell rum do not brand 
 yourself as an unblushing liar by continuing in the 
 business of making drunkards." The words poured in 
 a torrent from Howard's lips as he stood close to Her- 
 mon and hurled them in his ear. His manner was so 
 fierce and impetuous, and his words so scathing, that 
 the landlord of the " Home " was apparently awed 
 into silence, and strode sullenly back into the bar- 
 room. 
 
 " Some of these temperance fanatics will get so 
 crazy that they will set everybody by the ears. If I 
 should abuse a man as Howard has me, I should not 
 blame him if he should burn my barn ! " ' 
 
 The crowd did not notice the look that passed be-
 
 256 MINNIE IIEKMON. 
 
 tween Hermon and one of his customers. That night 
 Howard's horse-barn was burned, horses, carriages, 
 and all" and in the morning the incendiary was tracked 
 to Hermon's shed, where the wretched creature was 
 frozen, having crawled about half-way under the 
 shattered stable-door. 
 
 Every rumseller in Oakvale stuck zealously for the 
 old pledge. If the temperance people had abided by 
 that, they could have gone with them ! The new 
 pledge was intolerant and fanatical, and would most 
 assuredly ruin the cause ! And these men, who op- 
 posed the first movement as "going too far," were 
 now its mourning friends. As for Counselor Skillott, 
 he knew the whole thing was originated by priestcraft 
 and fanaticism, and so didn't join the society. 
 
 Among others who frowned upon the new state of 
 things, was Elder Snyder. Indeed, the first had met 
 his stately and scornful displeasure. The wicked and 
 the ungodly were admitted as members, and he could 
 not associate with such. Atheists, and men who had 
 been drunken, and those who made not long prayers 
 nor wore sanctimonious faces, had been allowed to 
 sign both pledges. Those who did not attend his 
 church, nor pay their money to support his ministry, 
 could not receive the least countenance from him. 
 
 At a donation party given to the Elder by his 
 friends, and held at his house, the subject of temper- 
 ance was introduced and discussed. Walter Bray ton 
 went so far as to ask the pastor to put his name to the 
 pledge. Looking upon the young man with a solemn
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN. 257 
 
 frown, he drew himself up, and in his usual sancti- 
 monious drawl, gave his objections : 
 
 "Young man! I awfully fear you do nl)t know 
 what you are doing. You and your temperance 
 friends are going after strange gods. You seem to 
 think yourself wiser than your teachers. You are 
 most assuredly led away by the blindest fanaticism, 
 and great evil has already come of it. Hatreds and 
 jealousies, strifes and contentions, have entered into 
 the hearts of my people. Satan has certainly to do 
 with these strange and wicked doctrines. You ask 
 me to sign a pledge not to drink any wines or spiritu- 
 ous liquors at all ! The world, my friends, is coming 
 to a strange pass, when we must totally abstain from 
 the good gifts of Clod. Temperance is a moderate use 
 of all his bounties. We are required by the Bible to 
 drink wine. The Saviour himself made and drank 
 wine. It is designed as a blessing to man, and it is 
 the will of our Lord that we enjoy it. "We are not 
 responsible for the abuse which ungodly men make 
 of these things. Men are gluttons and shall we 
 abstain from all food ? Men are hypocrites and 
 shall we discard the religion of our Lord and Master ? 
 There is no authority in the Bible for these societies. 
 I cannot saction what has not a " thus saith the Lord " 
 for it. Ungodly men are in this movement, and the 
 pious Christian should set his face firmly against it. 
 He who is within the ark of safety needs none of these 
 foolish helps. If it is the dear Lord's will to have 
 
 some of the souls he has created lost in the abuse of 
 11
 
 258 MINNIE HEKMOX. 
 
 eorae of his good gifts, it were wrong for us to contra- 
 vene his purposes. His holy will be done. Those he 
 has chosen will he save. A moderate use of his 
 bounties is gocd for all. Let us give thanks." . 
 
 And over the table glittering with decanters and 
 glasses the false teacher craved a blessing, and the 
 wine went round. The Elder seemed to pride him- 
 self upon watching those to whom it was presented. 
 There were few who refused the cup, and the contents 
 produced a marked flow of good feeling. Herrnon 
 was present, and at once became a pattern of piety, 
 and donated to the Elder with extreme liberality, 
 ijrayton and Howard refused the wine, and there 
 were half-smothered titterings about "cold water," 
 "fools," and "fanaticism." Minnie welcomed the 
 cup with an emphatic no, which drew the attention 
 of the company around her ; but, save a slight flush, 
 she was calm, and returned the reproving glance of 
 the pastor with dignity and firmness. Back of hei 
 stood one who had not yet attracted notice. As the 
 waiter came to him he fiercely put it away with his 
 hand, and drew himself up, looking upon the wine 
 with a strangely wild and glistening eye. His person 
 was full six feet in height, his countenance sharp and 
 pale, his hair long, and his eyes deeply sunken and 
 intensely brilliant. He wore a long surtout coat, 
 closely buttoned, had on a broad-brimmed hat, and 
 in his hand a long staff. 
 
 "JVb/" he fairly howled through his clenched 
 " Away with the sparkling devil ! It bubblea
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAEST. 259 
 
 with damnation! It is the red blood of butchery ! 
 It is the fiery beverage of hell ! The tempter is- coil- 
 ed at the bottom ! ' At last it stingeth like an adder 
 and liteth like a serpent ! ' It shall sting to utter ruin 
 the hand which hands it this night with the mockery 
 of a blessing craved upon it ! I say, get thee gone, 
 devil, or the arm of the Lord shall smite thee ! " The 
 strange personage raised his long staff, and would 
 have fiercely dashed the cup in fragments had it re- 
 mained before him. 
 
 " Who thus intrudes here so noisily ? " asked the 
 Elder, pale with anger. 
 
 " The chosen of the Lord the avenger of the slain ! 
 Blood cries from the ground, and the widow and or- 
 phan beg for bread. Woe ! woe ! for the Mighty 
 One is after ye ! Hypocrites, false teachers, gluttons, 
 and wine bibbers, woe ! for the end cometh ! Men 
 are led astray by wicked ones in priestly garb, and 
 the innocents are wailing for bread in the land. The 
 wrath of God kindles against ye for the violence in 
 the land, and shall consume ye as stubble! Woe! 
 woe ! woe ! I say, ye workers of ruin ! It is written 
 against ye in blood, and God shall avenge the fallen ! 
 Away ! I tell ye, with the beverage of the damned ! 
 Thus I will smite thee as the Lord smote the wicked 
 of old, and will smite them again ! " 
 
 Whirling his long staff with an almost supernatu- 
 ral power and velocity, he stepped towards the side 
 board, and with an eye red and glaring, and a voice 
 B welling into a howl, with one tremendous swoop,
 
 260 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 dashed every glass and decanter into a thousand frag- 
 ments. Astonishment was upon every countenance, 
 and there was not a whisper in the room until a wild, 
 maniac-burst of laughter came back from the strange 
 apparition as he emerged into the street. 
 
 Paleness lingered upon the lip of Elder Siiyder 
 the paleness of anger not unmixed with that of awe. 
 The stranger was a personage not to be forgotten, for 
 his tones had a startling energy and power. The com- 
 pany did not recover from the influence of the inci- 
 dent, and soon dispersed. 
 
 Among those who were present that night, was a 
 reformed man by the name of "Whitney. From the 
 lowest depths of drunkenness he had come up, and by 
 industry and unblemished good conduct had given 
 promise of redeeming the position he had lost in soci- 
 ety, and of living a life of future usefulness. His 
 family were again comfortable, his children at school, 
 and he prospering at his trade. He had united with 
 the Methodist church, and by his exemplary deport- 
 ment won the full confidence of its members. He 
 had that night been for the first time within the reach 
 of the fatal circle of the glass. The gurgle of the 
 liquor and its foam, with the solemn sophistry and 
 example of a Christian minister, combined to under- 
 mine his integrity. Beautifully the incense rose up 
 before him, and as Snyder himself presented the cup 
 he impulsively grasped it firmly and drained it off. 
 A smouldering fire was kindled. A wild glow shot 
 through every vein, and within his stomach the demon
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN 261 
 
 was aroused in his strength. Whitney had but one 
 thought more drink! That he must have. The 
 
 O 
 
 desire burned within him. It crept to his fingers' 
 ends, and out in a burning flush upon his cheek. He 
 writhed helplessly, and the large drops stood thickly 
 upon his brow. He felt as if already fallen a guilty 
 wretch and shrunk cowering from the gaze of every 
 eye. 
 
 "What is the matter, Whitney?" kindly asked 
 Brayton, as he passed him in going out. Whitney 
 started as if from a nightmare, and glared silently at 
 vacancy. Snatching his hat, he rushed out with a 
 half-sad, half-exultant yell, and sped down the street 
 into Hermon's. 
 
 " Drink ! drink ! for God's sake give me drink ! 
 Quick ! " and the trembling wretch turned with a 
 ghastly stare at the door, as if dreading the approach 
 of some one, his hands fastened convulsively upon the 
 slats before the bar. 
 
 A devilish smile crept over the swollen visage of 
 Hermon, as he saw who it was who begged so madly 
 for drink. Hesitating a moment, as if enjoying the 
 struggles of the victim, he sneeringly asked : 
 
 " That you, Whitney ? I thought you was a tem- 
 perance man! What '11 the church say? But I 
 s'pose you will drink moderately" and he smiled more 
 fiendishly than ever. 
 
 "Drink! I say-; give me drink. Money, soul, 
 clothes, tools everything for one drink! Give ittc
 
 262 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 me, quick!" and the poor maniac emptied his pock- 
 ets upon the counter, and pulled off his coat and 
 hurled it into the bar. His eye gleamed and kindled 
 as he glanced upon the shining bottles, and his voice 
 was choked and husky, he constantly begging as 
 though his whole system was on fire. 
 
 Bray ton and Howard entered just as Hermon set 
 the bottle on the counter. Whitney heard their foot- 
 steps, and convulsively grasped the bottle and tum- 
 bler and turned it full, and in his eagerness spilled as 
 much more upon the counter. 
 
 " Whitney ! in God's name, what are you doing ? 
 Hermon ! more of your devilish work ! " said How- 
 ard, rushing up to the bar and arresting the arm of 
 Whitney. But the latter was too quick for the move- 
 ment. Grasping both hands fiercely around the glass, 
 he dropped his mouth to the rim, and turned the con- 
 tents off at a breath, shutting his teeth with a spasm 
 as he did so, breaking the top of the glass in pieces, 
 and spitting them on the floor. With a long, deep 
 breath he drew himself up to his full height, and 
 dashed the bottom full in the face of Howard. The 
 yell that followed the act was horrible. 
 
 " You thought to keep me from drink, eh ? I '11 
 liave it if I have to go to hell after it ! Who-o-oop ! 
 Won't Father Merrill roar when he finds old Whit- 
 ney 's born again ! I 'm your boy to say amen, Doc- 
 ^tor!" and with drunken laughter he commenced a 
 bacchanalian soug, and danced wildly around the
 
 BREAKING GROUND AGAIN. 263 
 
 room. No words from Howard or Brayton could 
 touch Mm ; and he fiercely repelled all efforts to lead 
 him from the tavern. 
 
 " Better have him sign the pledge again," sneered 
 Hermon, from behind his counter. 
 
 " Black-hearted, murderous villain \ " groaned How- 
 ard from between his teeth, as he reached in vain for 
 the landlord over the counter. " You deserve hang- 
 ing most richly. None but a devil in human guise 
 would thus exult in such work. I did not dream that 
 earth had such monsters as you \ " The Doctor stood 
 glaring upon the sneering landlord, who wisely kept 
 out of his reach. 
 
 " And he will hang yet, for the avenger will over 
 take him in such an hour as he knoweth not He is 
 both a curse and accursed, and so shall hang clear of 
 the earth." All within the room started at the sound 
 of that voice, and beheld the strange man with the 
 long surtout and staff, steadily gazing upon Hermon. 
 The sneer upon the face of the latter faded away un- 
 der the basilisk gaze, and a chill strangely crept over 
 him the voice was familiar, and stirred unpleasant 
 memories. 
 
 That night the spirit of another fallen one went 
 where rum is not. As the water was let upon the 
 wheel of the grist-mill the next morning, it made a 
 few revolutions, and then with a crushing sound ceased 
 to turn. No effort with poles and hooks could re- 
 move the difficulty, and the water was let out of the 
 dam. Crushed in among the broken buckets was a
 
 264 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 corpse, the head, shoulders and arras left unbroken. 
 Erect as in life, the bloated features of "Whitney 
 glared out, and the dripping hair lay closely upon the 
 bloodless brow. 
 
 As the wife and children, too soon hearing of the 
 affair, came wailing to the scene, and fell weeping 
 over the wet and bloody remains, Hermon turned and 
 slipped away. 
 
 " The murderers are not all hung yet ! " was his- 
 sed close to his ear. He started, but dared not turn 
 to look, for he knew his tormentor. 
 
 "With a heart full of keener anguish than even the 
 wife, Minnie Hermon attended the funeral of Whit- 
 ney. The sermon was from these words, " Where is 
 thy 'brother?" She felt that poor "Whitney had died 
 by her own father's hand, and every sob from the 
 widow and the orphans added keener pangs to her 
 own bitter anguish.
 
 CHAPTEE XXIII. 
 
 LIGHT IN A DARK PLACE. 
 
 AMONG others who sold rum in Oakvale, was a 
 man by the name of Jud Lane, one of the most reck- 
 less and unprincipled of his class. He kept what was 
 called the k ' Lower Tavern," a low and disreputable 
 den, by the river bridge. The building itself was a 
 miserable structure, answering for a grog-shop and 
 gambling den. The boards were off the shed, the 
 floor of the stoop rotten, and falling away, and one 
 end of the upright part settling down with age and 
 decay. The sheeting was loose and clattering, the 
 windows dirty and broken, and the door worn and 
 begri mined with dirt. The bar-room looked as 
 though it had never been cleaned. Dirt and tobacco 
 spittle was thickly crusted upon the floor ; the wooden 
 bars before the windows were greasy and cut up with 
 the knife, and the old brick fire-place was crumbling 
 away. A long seat reached from the old-fashioned 
 oat-bin to the door, well worn by the groups which 
 had for years there set and displayed their slavering 
 wisdom. An old wash sink stood in the corner, slimed 
 over again and again by dirty drippings, surmounted 
 by. a washbowl marked inside with a circle of the 
 more plentiful ornamenting. Upon the roller was a
 
 266 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 napkin to match. A huge boot-jack hung over the 
 mantel, together with circus bills, sheriff's sales, and 
 auction or patent medicine placards, " sold here." 
 The bar was one of the old-fashioned kind, with a 
 picket work and double door. Gringy kegs, decan- 
 ters and a bottle of stoughton, with candy in a seven- 
 by-nine glass case, completed the bar-room furniture 
 of the " River Hotel." 
 
 Jud Lane was a man worthy of a moment's atten- 
 tion. He was a licensed agent of the government, 
 dealing liquors in that old shed by the authority of 
 law. He was hardly of medium stature, but thick 
 set ; his features harsh and repulsive, hair matted, 
 and concealing a low and retreating brow, eyes of a 
 muddy bronze color, nose flattened, neck thick, and 
 lower jaw heavy, arms long, and legs crooked to de- 
 formity. With hands thrust deeply into his pockets 
 and hat drawn down over his eyes, he moved back- 
 wards and forwards across the floor. His whole as- 
 pect was most villainous, indicating the inner man in 
 palpable and revolting language. None of earth's 
 unfortunates was ever too degraded to be turned 
 away from his bar. The vilest of rum's shattered 
 wrecks crawled regularly into his den for the dram. 
 The wife or the child would never have thought of en- 
 tering his door to protest against his course with hus- 
 band or parent. His mouth was an ever-active crater 
 of the most vile and malignant cursing. His own 
 
 o o 
 
 sister's husband had drank, and died a horrible death 
 in his bar-room. Still more abandoned and malig-
 
 LIGHT IN A DAEK PLACE. 267 
 
 nant as the reform came into notice, Jud Lane pre- 
 sented the perfect embodiment of a callous,' cruel and 
 revengeful rum-dealer. He would rather sell rum 
 and slaughter his fellows, in the River Hotel, than 
 live elsewhere honored and respected. His boys were 
 like him, playing the most abusive tricks upon the 
 pobr wretches who lingered there for their drams. 
 
 Election day had drawn to a close, but crowds still 
 lingered to drink and carouse. Jud Lane's tavern 
 secured a large number of votes, and the election 
 had been held there. At night, the bar-room was 
 densely crammed with people, swaying, singing, 
 shouting, cursing, drinking, and now and then fight- 
 ing, the dim light revealing an atmosphere loaded 
 with the mingled odor of tobacco and rum, reeking 
 like a poisonous stench from the lungs of the drunk- 
 en mass. The jingle of glasses was incessant, and at 
 the hour of midnight, tipplers and drunken men still 
 lingered. The bunk and the space under the bench, 
 the shed and the hay-loft, were stored with drunken 
 men. Such is the material out of which partisan 
 leaders manufacture the " popular will," and slime 
 into public stations. 
 
 Five hard-looking customers were still drinking at 
 the bar, alternating with a song or a story, by one 
 of the number. One of them was a middle-aged 
 man, slightly gray, and not entirely unprepossessing 
 in his appearance, save the bloated face and the dirty 
 suit of rags. He was a leader among them, and dis- 
 played talent in his drunken sallies.
 
 268 MINNIE IIKRMON. 
 
 The subjects of temperance, and the meeting ap- 
 pointed for the morrow evening, came up. 
 
 " I'll treat the crowd, if you'll all go,- boys, and 
 cany your bottles and give 'em beans" said Lane 
 cool and sober in the midst of the general drunken 
 ness. 
 
 " Done," said Barney Kits. " H ot wa-(hic)*tei 
 agin cold. Set on the top-hetchel. Old Barney's on 
 earth in spite of rum and lightning." 
 
 " I'll treat again, if you'll e^that long-haired cuss 
 who is round preaching on the corners of the streets, 
 and find the tools," continued Lane, bitterly. " Catch 
 him on my steps ! " and he ground his teeth as he 
 crushed the sugar in the glass. 
 
 "A shilling to the man who hits him ! " dis- 
 tinctly muttered our strange friend in the long hair 
 and surtout, as he emerged from the darkness of 
 the street and stood in the middle of the room. The 
 noise was at once hushed, and Lane scowled with an- 
 gered surprise. 
 
 " The long haired hypocrite will be there to-mor- 
 row night. Bring your eggs, Jud Lane. A rotten 
 cause and a rotten heart must need rotten arguments. 
 Bring 'em along, and also those you prey upon. 
 
 "Out of the house, you black-coated devil," 
 growled Lane, but keeping safely behind the bar. 
 Ilalton, put him out poker him out." 
 
 Ualton, the man in rags, seized the stranger at the 
 word, and was proceeding to put the command in ex- 
 ecution, when the latter, with the ease with which he
 
 LIGHT IN A DARK PLACE. 269 
 
 would have taken a child, unhanded Halton's grasp, 
 and looked him sternly in the eye. 
 
 " Henry Haltou, I knew you when you were one 
 of the most honored of men. There is yet manhood 
 and pride in your heart. I know there is. This is 
 not the place or the company for you. You did not 
 look thus when you stood with Mary Densmore at 
 the altar. A spell is upon ye ! Come away, Henry 
 Halton, from this vile place, and be saved. We will 
 meet you half-way, and there shall be singing and re- 
 joicing for the prodigal's return. Your sainted moth- 
 er and wife are looking down from Heaven. Angels 
 are weeping, Henry, and at home, [the stranger 
 whispered as he breathed the words into Halton's ear] 
 the only being who loves you on earth, weeps and 
 prays for her father. Your friends are not her^^ Heri- 
 ry Halton ! Go with us and be saved. Be saved 
 Henry Halton, be saved!" 
 
 The lustrous and melting eyes worked a strange 
 spell over the hardened drunkard. As a tear from 
 the stranger's eye fell upon the open palm, Halton 
 wept, and a sigh swelled up in his broad bosom. Still 
 in the stranger's grasp, he looked imploringly in his 
 eye, as if hope was springing up in his darkened 
 heart. 
 
 " Will you come, Henry Halton come to honor 
 and to God ? Say this night you will, and there shall 
 be rejoicing in Heaven ! Come! " 
 
 A strange scene in the dimly lighted bar-room of 
 the River Hotel ! Drunkards were looking unstead
 
 270 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 ily but silently upon it, and from behind the" bar, 
 where the last round of glasses stood untasted, glow- 
 ered Lane with clenched fists and teeth upon the 
 stranger. 
 
 " Halton ! tarry not among the tombs. Come ! " 
 he continued. 
 
 " Before God I will! " gasped Halton, as a deeper 
 Bigh escaped his bosom, and he ventured to look 
 around him. As his eye rested upon Lane, he quailed, 
 so fearful is the influence of the dealer upon his vic- 
 tim. The stranger saw it, and continued : 
 
 " Who else is there here this night who will come 
 with Henry Halton to home and manhood, and God? 
 Come with him this night, and be enslaved ones no 
 more. Turn from the past." And the stranger, in 
 low but strangely sweet and thrilling tones, com- 
 menced and sang " Long, Long Ago." The drunk- 
 ards wept, and as the question was again asked, 
 " Who will come with Halton ? " four of them reeled 
 up around him, joining hands to keep from falling. 
 
 "And here you solemnly pledge yourselves never 
 to drink anything which can intoxicate again. 
 
 " We-(hic)-we do." 
 
 "And may God help you ! Now," thundered the 
 stranger, a wild and joyous light kindling in his eye, 
 " come away, and tarry not, nor look back, or the ene- 
 my is upon you ? Come ! " and the five customers of 
 the "Itiver Hotel " went out after the strange man in 
 the long surtout. 
 
 With a torrent of curses pouring from his mouth,
 
 tIGHT IN A DARK PLACE. 271' 
 
 Jud Lane turned the liquor in the glasses back into 
 the decanter, and walked his bar-room like a mad- 
 dened fiend, gnashing his teeth, and swearing ven- 
 geance upon the temperance fanatics, and the five 
 customers in particular. " They would'nt get no more 
 liquor from his shop, if they choked to death ; " and 
 yet the man's only consolation in his anger was, that 
 they would all be back again before the week was out. 
 
 Desolate was the foul den, with only the snoring 
 drunkards left ; and Jud Lane went cursing to bed. 
 
 The next morning, Jud Lane looked confidently for 
 the coming of his five customers for their usual morn- 
 ing drams. He knew no passion but those of avarice 
 and hate, and he raved when he was cheated of a cus- 
 tomer. Skillott came in while Lane was sullenly 
 pacing his bar-room. Skillott had become an habit- 
 ual tippler, and to disguise his habits he would range 
 through the whole list of drinking places, and 
 drink at them all. Lane rehearsed his grievances to 
 a sympathetic listener. Both heaped abuse upon the 
 temperance people. As to the five drunkards who 
 had been led away by that long-coated hypocrite, both 
 hoped they would choke tc death before they could 
 find a drop, 
 
 " But never mind ; you '11 have 'em, Lane, before 
 the week 's out : nothing to trap 'em." 
 
 " Get 'em here again and I '11 sweat 'em. I '11 
 learn 'em to leave an old friend for these cussed fa- 
 natics. I'll sue every mother's son of 'em, or my 
 name ain't Jud Lane."
 
 272 MINNIE ITEKMON. 
 
 " Do they owe you ? " pleasantly asked Skillott, ta- 
 king his lips from the glass he was emptying, and 
 brightening up at the thought of a fee. 
 
 " They do, every one of 'em ; and I '11 have my pa} 
 or jug 'em." 
 
 " You 'vQJug'd 'em pretty well already," put in old 
 Barney Kits, who had just dropped in for his dram. 
 
 Lane turned upon the inveterate old joker with an 
 angry frown, but smothered the usual torrent of oaths 
 as the old fellow put down his sixpence. 
 
 " It would be but justice," continued Skillott, with 
 assumed indifference. " They have had too many 
 favors to turn against you, and they certainly cannot 
 complain if made to pay their honest debts." 
 
 "I've always been doin' 'em favors, and lettin' 
 'em have liquor when they hadn't any money. If 
 
 they don't quit their foolin' I'll fix 'em, d n me if 
 
 1 don't. Jud Lane knows where to bite." 
 
 "I expect Brayton and Howard will have them 
 lecturing on temperance before Saturday night," said 
 Skillott, with a sneer, ready to heap ridicule upon the 
 temperance movement, " They'll make strong men ! 
 ha, ha!" 
 
 " Not while Lane's liquor is in 'em," gravely an- 
 swered old Barney ; " too much pump water." 
 
 " Kits, you old bloat have n't I warned you to 
 stop your devilish stuff? I won't stand it." 
 
 " I can't stand either, half the time, such stuff," 
 replied Kits, winking waggishly at Lane. 
 
 " You mustn't turn off any of your jokes on me."
 
 LIGHT IN A DARK PLACE. 273 
 
 "It's a long lane that has no turn," persisted the 
 half-drunken wag. Lane was maddened, for he took 
 the drive as made at his hump back. 
 
 " You ought to be shot, you old viper ! " 
 
 " Just been shot in the neck. 'T ain't (hie) 
 mortal, though ; " and old L^arney attempted to stand 
 steady and look wise. 
 
 " You drunken old cuss ! you'd better join in Hal- 
 ton's gang, you feel so sharp." 
 
 " Been one of Halton's gang this five years. Ex- 
 pect to 
 
 " Hear ye ! hear ye ! hear ye ! men and women of 
 Oakvale ! The trump of the Lord is sounding, and 
 the dead are coming forth. Ho ! ye enslaved ones ! 
 Men having devils and dwelling among the tombs : 
 there is hope for the lost. An arm mighty to save 
 is stretched forth, and deliverance is near. Hear ye ! 
 hear ye ! the good Samaritans are among you. Those 
 who have been among thieves shall be washed and 
 healed. Drunkards who have squandered all in riot- 
 ous living, and hungered for the husks fed to the 
 swine : we bid you return. There is bread enough 
 and to spare hallelujah to God ! and there shall be 
 singing and rejoicing in the land, for the lost are 
 found. Ho ! dwellers in the dark places ! Come 
 forth. The commissioned of the Lord bringeth you 
 glad tidings. He will break your bonds and bid the 
 captive go free. Drunkards ! come out from the dens 
 of prey. Let the licensed buzzards starve for the 
 want of human carrion. God's judgments are close
 
 274 MISNIE HERMON. 
 
 upon them, and sure and swift destruction upon them . 
 and theirs. Ho ! ye that thirst, come ! I come to 
 bear you the holy truths of the temperance reform. 
 There is light in the dark places, and the waste ones 
 are made glad. The gospel is preached to the poor, 
 and the blind ones are made to see. 
 
 " We 're coming, we 're coming, the sober and free, 
 Like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea ; 
 True sons of brave sires, who battled of yore, 
 When England's red lion roar'd wild on our shore. 
 
 We 're coming, we 're coming, from mountain and glen, 
 With hands that are steady we're freemen again ; 
 Let Alcohol tremble as 't ne'er trembled before, 
 For we swear by Great Heaven to drink it no more I " 
 
 Jud Lane fairly raved when he recognized the voice 
 of the man in the long coat. That personage had 
 mounted the horse-block by the sign-post. There was 
 something strangely wild in his person and manner. 
 His tall form was erect, his hat off, and his long hair 
 swaying in the wind. With one hand upon the staff 
 and the other extended with the long finger quiver- 
 ing, his eye half tender and half fierce, his coat but- 
 toned to the throat, and his beard hanging upon his 
 breast, his aspect was singularly striking and impres- 
 sive. His voice was in keeping ; now tremulous with 
 a tear, and again rising into a wail, or howling with 
 terrible energy, as his invective, unequalled in bitter- 
 ness and strength, fell fierce and scathing upon all 
 connected with the rum traffic. There was awe in
 
 LIGHT IN A DARK PLACE. 275 
 
 his impassioned and hazardous eloquence, and beams 
 of unearthly light seemed literally to shoot from his 
 eye when he towered in passion. With clenched 
 teeth and burning cheeks, the dealers shrank from his 
 gaze and blistering speech. Clear and swelling like 
 a trumpet's tone, his voice rang out and crowds gath- 
 ered to hear and to see him. There was something 
 unaccountably fascinating in his half-mad harangues. 
 His sneer, when pouring sarcasm upon the dealers, 
 was as withering as the sarcasm itself. But when he 
 appealed to the drunkards, a smile like sunlight would 
 melt every feature into wondrous beauty. Step by 
 step the crowd, drunkards included, would gather 
 closer to the man, as if drawn by some unseen power. 
 Even Jud Lane could not keep from looking from the 
 hall out upon the speaker. "With all the severity of 
 the man's speech, and the bitterness of his personal 
 assaults, there was blended a world of truth and 
 tender, moving pathos. He never spared the dealer, 
 nor even gave them credit for a single redeeming 
 trait. It seemed to delight him to lance them with- 
 out mercy. From appeals of the most gentle and 
 mournful earnestness, he would turn, as his eye caught 
 sight of one of them, and, as if startled by the sound 
 of a rattlesnake, hiss sweeping imprecations upon 
 them and their business, between his clenched teeth 
 and pallid lips. He believed himself commissioned 
 by the Lord to "smite the monster" in his strong 
 places. Some secret and unknown cause of hatrecl 
 to the rum traffic and those employed in it, with wild
 
 276 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 religions frenzy and deep natural enthusiasm, gave 
 his impetuous eloquence, and with reason, the cast of 
 fanaticism. His denunciations of wine bibbers and 
 drinking church-members and priests, were bold and 
 merciless. 
 
 Jud Lane had just come in for a blast which blis- 
 tered as it reached the raving victim. Turning to a 
 drunken Irishman, the landlord offered him a gallon 
 of rum if he would go around between the shed and 
 the house and hurl a dozen of eggs at the speaker. 
 Pat was just drunk enough to eagerly agree to the 
 proposition. The " crazy preacher," as he was called, 
 had just finished the two verses we have quoted, and 
 the melody of the wild and stirring air yet lingered 
 in the hearts of the crowd, when an egg crashed 
 against the sign-post close by his head. A freezing 
 sneer crept over his face as he turned his eye in the 
 direction from whence the missile came. 
 
 " Ho! ho ! friends. Here are arguments upon the 
 other side of the house. Better send us their eggs 
 than their liquor. If the wretch who reared this post 
 would smear it with human blood instead of yolk, the 
 argument would be better put and more appropriate. 
 Blood is upon their sign-posts, their thresholds, and 
 their counters. It is upon their hands and their 
 hearts. But vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, and 
 the widows' and children's wrongs shall be avenged. 
 Ha, ha ! another of their arguments, and applied to a 
 subject, too. (The egg hit old Barney.] But better 
 on your coat, brother, than the man's poison in your
 
 LIGHT IN A DAKK PLACE. 277 
 
 heart. The monsters writhe, for their power is de- 
 parting from them." There was a shout from the 
 boys, and a crash of boards under the shed. In step- 
 ping back from the shed window, as he hurled the 
 second egg, Pat trod upon a short board and fell 
 through to the ground. 
 
 " And so shall tire traffic fall to the ground, and 
 those engaged in it. Their arguments cannot sustain 
 them." 
 
 The fall was a serious matter with Pat, for he had 
 broken an arm and a leg, and was groaning with pain. 
 The preacher was quickly by his side, and without 
 assistance bore him into the bar-room. Jud Lane 
 stood cowering like a spirit of evil in his bar at the 
 turn things had taken and the comments freely made 
 by some in the crowd. It was in his heart to turn 
 the whole company out of doors. Pat begged for 
 rum, and while the preacher was after Howard, 
 Lane drew a glass and carried it to him, but as it was 
 lifted to Pat's lips, the long staff of the Hermit, as the 
 preacher was called, swooped down and dashed it into 
 fragments. 
 
 " Away with your poison ! A broken arm and leg 
 are enough. Hand him rum at your peril, Jud Lane. 
 Before God I will serve you as I have the glass. 
 Stand back!" 
 
 Stooping down, the Hermit again lifted Pat in his 
 arms, and bore him out and away from the " River 
 Hotel " to Howard's office. As he came out, he again 
 addressed the crowd vho followed, making effective
 
 278 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 use of the circumstance. Jud Lane had made Pat 
 drunk ; Pat had fallen and broken his limbs in con- 
 sequence, and the people must support him through 
 his sickness. Shaking his long staff towards Lane's 
 tavern, he broke forth in a torrent of fierce invectives. 
 As he saw Skillott taking notes of his remarks, he 
 turned his attention to that functionary, and lashed 
 him in unmeasured terms. He then announced that 
 a temperance meeting would be held in the Hall that 
 evening, to be addressed by a reformed drunkard, 
 and urged all to attend. Then breaking out in the 
 familiar air of "Come to the Temperance Hall," he 
 passed through the crowd and up the street. Upon 
 the steps of the " Home" and so through the whole 
 village, he went with staff and song, and impassioned 
 harangue, heralding the meeting and denouncing the 
 rum traffic. His vast muscular strength and glisten- 
 ing eye deterred the enraged dealers from an open 
 attack upon his person.
 
 !S, . fie 
 
 "MORTIMEB HUDSON SIGNING THE PLEDGE.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 WASHINGTONIANISM THE OLD MASf's STORY. 
 
 THE tide of the new movement was rising with un- 
 exampled velocity and power. From the very dens 
 of the enemy, the Washingtonians came forth, fully 
 armed and fired with enthusiastic zeal. From the 
 ranks of the enslaved, reformed men came forth and 
 became for the time the standard-bearers of the re- 
 form. The song, and the rude though earnest appeal, 
 with the dark details of personal experience in the 
 thraldom of ruin, assumed a deep and thrilling inter- 
 est, and crowds flocked to hear the story. From gut- 
 ter, hovel, den, and steaming pit, men came forth to 
 soberness and honor. In every community the flame 
 was kindled. Angels were found sitting at the grave?, 
 of men's drunkenness, and as the stone was rolled 
 away, the living came-forth to happiness and home. 
 The land was filled with rejoicing. The wife and 
 mother watched the commotion with prayers and 
 hopeful tears, and the citizen looked bewildered. An 
 angel was in the waters and lepers were healed. 
 Many believed that intemperance was to be driven at 
 once from the land. The rumsellers such as con- 
 tinued in the business became more reckless and 
 desperate than ever, and only rejoiced when those who
 
 282 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 had taken the pledge were decoyed again to destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 Oakvale was alive with the excitement, and its 
 dealers boiling with fear and rage. The Hermit had 
 planted some tremendous blows upon the enemy, and 
 had snatched away many of their best customers. 
 His announcement of the evening meeting had in- 
 creased the interest to the highest degree, and before 
 dark, crowds of people were pouring down the streets 
 to the Hall. 
 
 Groups of people gathered on the steps of the tav- 
 erns and saloons, and were drinking in the bar-rooms 
 to keep their courage up. Now and then a drunken 
 man came reeling out of them, and the coarse jest and 
 boisterous laugh told the character of the parties. 
 
 Monsieur Ladeaux, an old Frenchman, kept one of 
 the most frequented dram-shops in Oakvale. Every- 
 thing around the establishment was arranged admira- 
 bly to render it attractive and inviting. Politicians 
 made the " Alhambra " their nightly resort, and tit 
 its bar the extremes of society met in the fraternal 
 circle of tippling. 
 
 Our readers may have seen the counterpart of 
 Monsieur. He was stoutly built and fleshy, his neck 
 thick, features coarse, heavy and sensual, person 
 stooping, and a shambling, leaning gait, like a man 
 looking for a penny on the walk. His soul was not 
 like other men's souls. He was as senseless, save in 
 his pocket, as the pavement on which he trod. But 
 two emotions those of avarice and gluttony ever
 
 283 
 
 stirred his sluggish nature. Honor, conscience or 
 pride, he was an utter stranger to. He deemed men, 
 women, and children, his legitimate prey. Whatever 
 he could do without fear of fine, imprisonment or 
 hanging, he would do for money. Had murder 
 been licensed, he would as readily butcher all who 
 crossed his threshold: No good interest in communi- 
 ity ever received his attention, countenance, or a far- 
 thing of support. He was never known to exhibit 
 feeling, save when his interest was assailed. The boy 
 that reached tiptoe for the cent's worth of beer, was 
 just as welcome a customer as the citizen of mature 
 years. Had every one who went out from his rooms 
 fell dead in the street, his regrets would have been in 
 proportion to his loss of custom. Moral influences 
 fell as inefficiently from his mail of animal selfish- 
 ness, as they would from the Pagan idol of wood or 
 stone. 
 
 Among those who were drinking on the evening of 
 the meeting, was a young man of about twenty-three 
 years. He was a mechanic in the place, and without 
 friends. None had yielded more blindly madly to 
 the bowl, or plunged more deeply into its many in- 
 iquities. "With quick and pungent wit, a voice of 
 wondrous sweetness and compass, and a power of 
 mimicry unsurpassed, he became the ruling spirit of 
 the drunken revel. His liquor cost him nothing. A 
 song, or a speech, or a story, would always bring both 
 applause and liquor. There was quite a competition 
 
 among the dram-shops for his presence. 
 12
 
 234: - MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 The youth was but a wreck. His potations were 
 deep and incessantly poured down. His face \ias of 
 a fiery red, and his long hair coarse and matted. A 
 soiled and broken-down hat sat back upon his head 
 with a dare-devil manner, his pantaloons begrimmed 
 with dirt, and his boots running over at the heels, and 
 full of holes, the bare, stockingless feet exposed to the 
 weather. The ragged coat was buttoned to the throat, 
 indicating a lingering pride which tried to conceal 
 the utter absence of a shirt. A dirty comforter was 
 wound loosely around the neck, and the ends tucked 
 under the coat. The people in the saloon had just 
 put him upon the counter, where he was making a 
 temperance speech. His wit; inimitable drollery, and 
 ludicrous flights of burlesque eloquence, had put the 
 crowd in a roar. Those present had furnished Gault 
 with a bottle of rum, and -were calculating upon a 
 high time at the temperance meeting, for he had 
 promised ' to make a speech there. In the height of 
 their mirth, Brayton, Halton, and the Hermit enter 
 ed. As many bombs would not have produced a 
 greater impression upon the customers of Ladeaux. 
 
 " Come down, John Gault, we want you to go with 
 us. We '11 do you good." 
 
 " This will do me good, H- (hie) - Halton." Gauit 
 tipped up his bottle, his eye turning comically down 
 upon Halton. Then thrusting his tongue into his 
 cheek, and rolling one eye up one way and the other 
 another, a trick he was familiar with, he assumed a 
 theatrical attitude, and exclaimed :
 
 WASHINGTONIANISM. 285 
 
 "Como one, come all; this bar shall fly 
 
 From its firm base as as SOOL as hie h'i." 
 
 A few tittered, but hushed again, as the low and 
 thrilling tones of the Hermit's voice trembled like 
 winning music above the coarser sounds. Gault stood 
 like one fascinated under the appeals. Slowly the 
 extended arm and bottle lowered to the side, and with 
 the other on his hip, he stood leaning forward and 
 gazing into the eye of the Hermit. The latter had 
 extended his hand, and his eye rested full and search- 
 ingly upon Gault. Save Monsieur Ladeaux, all were 
 hushed as the strange man plead with the drunkard. 
 There was a tender melancholy in 'his tones which 
 charmed the roughest listener. Gault was as com- 
 pletely in his power as if bound by a spell. 
 
 " Lost ! " he exclaimed, with a sigh, and plunged 
 forward into the arms of the Hermit. 
 
 " Saved ! John Gault ! We will snatch you from 
 the very jaws of the enemy. Your friends are not 
 here, John Gault. Go with us. We bid you come. 
 You shall sit among the redeemed, clothed and in 
 your right mind. Come ! " 
 
 Gault trembled from head to foot. Skillott ven- 
 tured to question this summary way of forcing men 
 into the temperance movement. With a gesture of 
 scorn, not unmixed with dignity, the Hermit waved 
 the counselor back, and again urged Gault to go with 
 them. Brayton stepped forward and took him by the 
 arm. While he was hesitating, the Hermit sang a 
 verse
 
 366 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 Sadly rcy wife bowed her beautiful bead, 
 
 Long ago, long ago ; 
 Ob, how I wept when I heard she was dead, 
 
 Long ago, long ago ; 
 
 She was an angel, my joy and my pride ; 
 Vainly to save me from ruin she tried ; 
 Poor broken heart! it was well that she Jied, 
 
 Long ago, long ago. 
 
 The words, feathered with plaintive melody most 
 sweetly sung, went to the heart of Gault. His young 
 and lovely wife had just gone to her pauper grave, 
 injured and broken-hearted, leaving him alone to go 
 more rapidly down the road to ruin. A tear swam 
 upon his red lid, and dropped upon the cheek. An- 
 other and another followed. Gault was conquered. 
 Clutching the Hermit firmly by the arm, he yielded 
 to his guidance, and with Brayton and Halton be- 
 hind, passed out of the Alhambra. 
 
 The more ignorant expected fun ; but Skillott saw 
 the strong influence at work upon the drunkards, and 
 was troubled. In his political dreaming, he had cal- 
 culated much upon their cheaply bought suffrages. 
 
 As the four entered the Hall, they found every part 
 of it densely packed with people, and the throng still 
 pouring into the vestibule. As dense as was the 
 crowd, it opened both ways before the Hermit and 
 his long stall*, and with Gault, Halton and Brayton 
 in his wake, that personage strode down towards the 
 platform. Gault shrank back, however, and Halton 
 procured him a seat and stood beside him. Large 
 drot)3 of sweat stood thickly on Gault's face, and he
 
 WASHINGTONIAJaSM. 287 
 
 avoided every eye as much as possible, where he sat. 
 A sea of heads was constantly turning towards the 
 doors to catch sight of the speakers. Elder Snyder 
 stole in around the wall aisle, and took his seaUbe- 
 hind a pillar under the gallery, as if doubtful of the 
 propriety of attending such a meeting. For an hour 
 the crowd continued to pour in, still finding room to 
 stand. In the corner seats were a number of rum- 
 sellers and their friends, they having heard that John 
 Gault was to carry a bottle and address the meeting. 
 The more intelligent ones looked grave, the brutes 
 scowled, and the simple put on a knowing leer, try- 
 ing to express their contempt of the whole affair. 
 
 Two men, at last, came in, and with much difficulty 
 reached the platform. All eyes were fixed upon 
 them, and that immense audience was hushed into 
 stillness.. 
 
 The men were unlike in appearance the one be- 
 ing short, thick-set in his build, the other tall and ex- 
 ceedingly well-formed. The younger had the manner 
 and address of a clergyman, a full, round face, and a 
 quiet, good-natured look, as he leisurely glanced 
 around upon the audience. 
 
 But the interest all centered on the old man. His 
 broad, deep chest and unusual height looked giant- 
 like as he swayed slowly up the aisle. His hair was 
 white, his brow deeply seamed with furrows, and 
 around his handsome mouth lines of decision, thought 
 and sadness. His. eye was black and restless, and 
 kindled for the moment as the tavern-keeper nearest
 
 288 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 mm uttered a low jest aloud. His lips were com- 
 pressed, and a crimson flush came upon and went 
 from his pale cheek. There was a wide scar over the 
 ight eye. 
 
 The younger finally arose and asked if there was a 
 clergyman present who would open with prayer. 
 Not one answered to the invitation. The rumsellers 
 ventured a titter. This started the Hermit. Advan- 
 cing to the front of the stage, he looked steadily and 
 not unkindly around over the audience, finally resting 
 a less winning gaze upon the corner where the deal- 
 ers had centered. Stretching his long arm out over 
 the people, he broke forth in an invocation which was 
 as appropriate as forcible and solemn. At its close, 
 he sang an ode as none other could have sung it. Its 
 melting tenderness stole over the audience like a 
 dream, and prepared them for the truths to follow. 
 
 The younger speaker made but a short address 
 calm, dignified and appropriate, setting forth the 
 claims of the Washingtonian cause, and urging all 
 who wished well to humanity to join in it. At the 
 conclusion of the meeting, he hoped to see the name 
 of every one present appended to the pledge. As he 
 concluded, he called upon any one present to speak 
 hoped to hear remarks for or against. 
 
 " Shut up, you old nuisance," muttered Jud Lane, 
 as old Barney punched him to get up. 
 
 " Give 'em the dingbats swear at 'em, Jud," 
 whispered Barney. 
 
 All eyes were turned in another direction. The
 
 WASHINGTONIANISM. 289 
 
 pastor under the gallery arose with more than ordina- 
 ry dignity, and attacked the positions of the speaker. 
 He used the current arguments of those opposed to 
 the temperance measures, and concluded by denoun- 
 cing those engaged in them, as meddlesome fanatics 
 having zeal without knowledge men who wished to 
 break up the time-honored usages of good society, 
 lake the interests of the moral world out of the hands 
 of the church, and injure the business of a very large 
 class of worthy and respectable people. Simultane- 
 ously the dealers and their friends, and the aristocra- 
 cy of the village applauded the pastor. As he took 
 his seat he put his hair back with dignity, and looked 
 over the room, as much as to say, " nothing for me to 
 make that speech ! " The feeling was evidently turn- 
 ing against the strangers, for Snyder had cunningly 
 shaped his remarks to undermine the public confi- 
 dence in their character as " public teachers." The 
 very fact that one of them had been a drunkard wa8 
 against him. And besides, a prayer had been made 
 by one whom he did not recognize as a minister of 
 God. He cautioned the people against being led 
 astray by fanatics and false teachers. 
 
 The Hermit's eye flashed, and with a pale lip he 
 grasped his staff fiercely. Slowly rising to his full 
 height, he pointed towards where Elder Snyder had 
 drawn his cloak around him, and broke out in a tor- 
 rent of withering denunciation. So sudden and 
 sweeping was the onslaught that the more tim- 
 id had hardly time to be shocked before the last
 
 290 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 barb had been sped. The manner of the man was 
 terrible. 
 
 " False teacher ! " hissed the Hermit between his 
 clenched teeth, yet plainly heard in every part of the 
 hall. " False teacher ! and this from one who turned 
 his own erring ones from his hearth, and sent them 
 away with curses. One who himself taught his chil- 
 dren to sip the accursed poison ! One who has set an 
 example which has sent his own parishioners to the 
 grave and to perdition ! One who, by the grave of 
 two who died broken-hearted, still advocates the foul 
 sin which destroyed them. One who prays for the 
 poor and the needy, and at the same time casts his 
 influence for that which robs the poor and needy, and 
 sends out the children to beg for bread. One who 
 would hedge Heaven against us because we have 
 once sinned as he is this day influencing others to sin. 
 One whose gospel never says to the returning peni- 
 tent, ' Go and sin no more ! ' One who dishonors 
 his profession by preaching our land full of paupers 
 and felons, our graves full of dead men, and hell with 
 souls that are damned ! Go ! false one ! and preach 
 the gospel of righteousness, temperance, and a judg- 
 ment to come, or else the viper shall return to sting 
 the hand that sends it forth, and the vultures shall 
 pick the bones of him who stays the chariot wheels 
 of the Lord ! " 
 
 A chill crept over the whole audience. The man- 
 ner of the speaker was even more bold and startling 
 than his words. With his eye full upon the pastor,
 
 THE OLD MAN'S STORY. 201 
 
 he slowly retreated to the back of the stage and took 
 his seat. 
 
 During the assault, the old man on the platform 
 had watched the hermit with a kindling eye, leaning 
 forward to catch every word. As he arose, his form, 
 as tall as the Hermit's, and better proportioned, tow- 
 ered in most commanding dignity, and his chest 
 swelled as lie inhaled his breath through his thin nos- 
 trils. There was something grand and inspiring in 
 the appearance of the old man as he stood looking 
 upon the audience, his teeth hard shut, and a silence 
 like that of death throughout the Hall. He bent his 
 gaze full upon Hermon, who sat immediately before 
 him, and as his eye lingered for a moment, the scar 
 upon his forehead grew an angry red, and from be- 
 neath his shaggy brows his eye glowed with meaning 
 fire. Hermon quailed under the gaze. He at last 
 commenced, in low and tremulous tones. There was 
 a depth in this voice a thrilling sweetness and pa- 
 thos, which riveted every heart in the Hall before the 
 first period had been rounded. Immediately under 
 the platform and a little in advance of the speaker, 
 sat young Mortimer Hudson, manifesting an interest 
 which he had never before exhibited at a temperance 
 meeting. 
 
 " If I were a stranger in your village, I should dare 
 to call you friends. As I once lived in your midst, I 
 trust I may call you all so." 
 
 There was a sensation, and whispered inquiries of 
 " Who can it be ? " With a thrilling depth of voice,
 
 292 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 the speaker locked his hands together, and contin- 
 ued : 
 
 "A new star has arisen, and there is hope in the 
 dark night which hangs like a pall of gloom over the 
 country. O God ! thou who lookest with compas- 
 sion upon the most erring of earth's frail children, I 
 thank thee that a brazen serpent has been lifted, upon 
 which the drunkard can look and be healed ; that a 
 beacon has burst out upon the darkness which sur- 
 rounds him, which shall guide back to honor and to 
 Heaven, the bruised and weary wanderer." 
 
 Strange, . the power in human voices ! The speak- 
 er's was low and measured ; but a tear trembled in 
 every tone, and before they knew why, tears were 
 dropping in the audience like rain-drops. The old 
 man brushed one from his own eye and continued : 
 
 -"Men and Christians ! You have just heard that I 
 may be probably am a vagrant and fanatic. I 
 am not. As God knows my own sad heart, I came 
 here to do good. The graves of my kindred are here. 
 My childhood was spent here. My manhood was de- 
 stroyed here. Hear me and be just. 
 
 " I am an old man, standing alone at the end of 
 life's journey. There is deep sorrow in my heart, and 
 bitter tears in my eyes. I have journeyed over a 
 dark, beaconiess ocean, and all life's bright hopes have 
 been wrecked. I am without friends, home or kin- 
 dred, on earth, and look with eager longing for the 
 rest of the night of death without friends, kindred 
 or home ! It was not so once ! "
 
 THE OLD MAN'S STORY. 293 
 
 No one could withstand the touching pathos of the 
 ;>ld man. The audience was under his control. 
 
 " No, my friends, it was not so once. Away over 
 the dark and treacherous waste which has wrecked 
 all my hopes, there is the blessed light of happiness 
 and home. I grasp again convulsively for the shrines 
 of the household idols that once were mine, now 
 mine no more." 
 
 The speaker seemed looking away through space 
 upon some bright vision, his lips apart, and his finger 
 extended. The audience involuntarily turned in the 
 direction where the speaker was looking, as if ex* 
 pecting to see some shadow called before them. 
 
 " I once had a mother. With her old heart crushed 
 with sorrows, she went down to her grave. I once 
 had a wife ; a fair, angel-hearted creature as ever 
 smiled in an earthly home. Her eye was as mild as 
 a summer sky, and her heart as faithful and true as 
 ever cherished a husband's love, or clung to him 
 when fallen. Her blue eye grew dim as floods of 
 sorrow washed out its brightness, and the loving heart 
 I wrung until every fibre was rudely broken. I once 
 had a babe, a sweet, tender blossom ; but these hands 
 destroyed it, and it lives with One who loveth chil- 
 dren. I once had a noble, a brave and beautiful 
 boy ; but he was driven out from the ruins of his 
 childhood home, and I know not if he yet lives. 
 
 " Do not be startled, friends ; I am not a murderer 
 in the common acceptation of the term. I am guilty 
 of much, but there is light in my evening sky. A
 
 294 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 spirit mother rejoices over the return of her prodigal 
 ion. The wife smiles upon him who again turns 
 back to virtue and honor. The angel child visits me 
 at nightfall, and I feel the hallowing touch of a tiny 
 palm upon my fevered cheek. My brave boy, if liv- 
 ing, would forgive the sorrowing old man for the 
 treatment that drove him out into the world, and the 
 blow which maimed him for life. God Almighty in 
 Heaven ! forgive me for the ruin I have brought upon 
 me and mine ! " 
 
 The speaker again wiped a tear from his eye. Mor- 
 timer Hudson watched him with a strange intensity, 
 and with a countenance pale with strong and unusual 
 emotion. 
 
 " I once was a fanatic, and madly followed the ma- 
 lign light which led me to ruin. I was a fanatic 
 when I sacrificed my wife, children, happiness and 
 hope to the accursed demon of the bowl. I was a 
 fanatic when I broke the heart and sent to the grave 
 the gentle being whom I injured so deeply. 
 
 " I was a drunkard ! From respectability and op- 
 ulence, I plunged into degradation and poverty. I 
 dragged my family down with me. For years I saw 
 my wife's cheek pale, and her step grow weary. I 
 left her alone amid the wreck of her home idols, and 
 rioted at the tavern. She never complained, though 
 she and the children went hungry for bread. 
 
 " One New Year's night, I left the midnight revel 
 at the tavern, for the hut where charity had given 113 
 a shelter. Deeply intoxicated, I reached about half
 
 THE OLD MAN'S STOKY. 295 
 
 the distance, and yielded to the intense cold of the 
 storm, and lay down upon the drifts, with the slum- 
 ber of drunkenness and death upon me. My wife, 
 a frail, poorly clad creature had become alarmed 
 about me, and ventured out in the storm to seek me. 
 She found me, insensible with cold. She stretched 
 her body upon mine, and with her own heat warmed 
 the chilling blood in my veins, and saved me from 
 freezing and death. Struggling until she raised me 
 to my feet, she started me home, bidding rne rest not 
 for life until I reached home. Arriving there, I 
 found the babe wailing in the arms of the boy, who 
 was vainly attempting to hush it. I felt the demon 
 in every vein, and snatching it from his arms with a 
 curse, I hurled it upon the coals ! " 
 
 The speaker buried his face in his hands, and the 
 audience were wound up to breathless excitement. 
 
 "At the moment the mother came in, and like a ti- 
 gress, sprang and snatched the child from its tortures. 
 Its agonizing shrieks will linger in my ear while I 
 live ! I demanded food. Mary turned her gaze sad- 
 ly upon me, the tears falling fast upon her cheek. 
 
 " ' We have no food, James. And, merciful heav- 
 en ! must murder be added to starvation f ' 
 
 " That sad, pleading face, the streaming eyes and 
 the wail of the babe maddened me ; and I yes, I 
 struck her a fearful blow in the face, and she fell for- 
 ward upon the hearth. The furies of hell boiled in 
 my bosom with .deeper intensity as I felt that I had 
 committed a wrong. I had never struck Mary be-
 
 296 MTSTNIE HERMON. 
 
 fore; but now some terrible impulse bore me oi\ 
 and I stooped down as well as I could in my drunk- 
 en state, and clenched both hands in her hair. 
 
 " ' God of mercy, James ! ' exclaimed my wife, as 
 she looked up in my fiendish countenance. * You 
 will not kill us. Poor "Willie, he must die,' and she 
 tried to soothe the little sufferer in its cruel pains. 
 I could not bear the shrieks of the child, and became 
 f.irious. Dragging her to the door and lifting the 
 latch, the wind burst in with a cloud of snow. With 
 the yell of a fiend, I still dragged her on and hurled 
 her out into the darkness and the storm. With a wild 
 ha ! ha ! I closed the door and turned the button, her 
 pleading moans mingling with the wail of the blast, 
 and the quick, gasping shrieks of the babe. But the 
 work was not complete. I turned to the bed wheie 
 my son had hidden, and dragged him out. He clung 
 to my knees, and called me by a name I was unwor- 
 thy to bear. My eye rested upon the axe in the cor- 
 ner, and I grasped it with the determination to kill 
 him. The boy saw the act and sprang for a window, 
 where a blanket was the only protection from the 
 storm. As he sprang out, the blow I leveled at his 
 head fell upon the sill, and severed his hand from 
 the arm ! " 
 
 The speaker ceased a moment, and buried his face 
 in his hands, as if to shut out some fearful dream, 
 and his deep chest heaved like a stormy sea. Mor- 
 timer Hudson had partially .arisen, his countenance 
 pale and ghastly, and he sobbing with startling emo
 
 THE OLD MAJtf's STORY. 297 
 
 tion. The old man shook as with an ague chill, and 
 again proceeded : 
 
 " It was morning when I awoke, and the storm had 
 ceased, but the cold was intense. I first secured a 
 drink of water, and then looked in the accustomed 
 place for Mary. As I missed her for the first time, 
 a shadowy sense of some horrible nightmare began 
 to dawn upon my wandering mind. I thought that I 
 had dreamed a fearful dream, and involuntarily opened 
 the door with a shuddering dread. As the door 
 opened the snow burst in, followed by the fall of a hard 
 body across the threshold, scattering the snow, and 
 striking the floor with a sharp, quick sound. My 
 blood shot like red-hot arrows through my veins, and 
 I rubbed my eyes to shut out the light. It was it 
 God, how terrible ! it was my own injured Mary 
 and her babe, frozen to ice ! The ever true mother 
 had bowed herself over her child to shield it, and 
 wrapped her own clothing around it, leaving her own 
 person stark and bare to the storm. She had placed 
 her hair over the face of the child, and the sleet had 
 frozen it to the white cheek. The frost was white in 
 its half-open eyes, and upon its tiny fingers. I know 
 not what became of my boy." 
 
 Again the old man bowed his head and wept, and 
 all in the house, Jud Lane excepted, wept with him. 
 In tones of low, and yet far-reaching pathos, he con- 
 cluded : 
 
 " I was arrested, and for months raved in delirium. 
 I was sent to prison for ten years, but its tortures
 
 298 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 were nothing compared to those in ray own bosom. 
 God knows I am not a fanatic. I wish to injure 
 no one. But while I live let me strive to warn others 
 not to enter the path which has been so dark and fear- 
 ful to me. I would see my angel wife and child in 
 the better land, where, God Almighty be thanked 
 no rum is sold, and drunkenness is not. If there is 
 one here this night who has been as I have been, let 
 me beseech him, as a brother whom I love, by the 
 dark and beaconless past by all that is yet left amid 
 the ruins of the present, and all that man can hope 
 for in the future let him come and sign tlie pledge. 
 He shall again stand up in the dignity of a freeman, 
 be loved by his family, respected again by society, 
 and honored of God. Come, ye heavy-laden and wea- 
 ry, sign and be FREE ! " 
 
 The old man sat down ; but a spell as deep and 
 strange as that wrought by some wizard's breath, 
 rested upon the audience. Hearts could have been 
 heard to beat, and tears to fall. At the invitation to 
 sign the pledge, the Hermit stepped forward and sang, 
 ""When is the time to sign." The effect upon the 
 people was deepened, and as Hal ton and his four com- 
 panions stood up, side by side, and with right arms 
 raised, followed with " We 're free once more ! " the 
 people swayed and murmured as if under a breath 
 of electricity. The men were all well known, and as 
 they now appeared, presented one of the most elo- 
 quent appeals ever witnessed of the blessed effects 
 of the temperance reform.
 
 THE OLD MAN'S STORY. 299 
 
 " FREE AGAIN ! " shouted Halton, his form dilating 
 with hope and pride. "Free again! Hallelujah to 
 God ! we 're men again. "Would that all who drink 
 were as we are." 
 
 " There 's a balm in Gilead and a physician there. 
 The Lord is here ; come, come to the waters and be 
 healed. Now is the time ! " Wild and thrilling, the 
 searching tone of the Hermit reached over the crowd. 
 
 The old man had stepped down in front of the plat- 
 form, where a table and writing fixtures had been 
 placed. He was followed by Halton and his compan- 
 ions, and the Hermit ; the latter still holding his long 
 staff, and his pale features lit up with" a smile of lofty 
 enthusiasm. The speaker took the pledge, and asked 
 who would be the first man to put his name to the 
 " great charter of freedom. He hoped all would do 
 it. The drunkards of the land were looking to their 
 action that night. Come ! " 
 
 Young Hudson leaped over the railing, and eagerly- 
 snatched the pen. As he held it a moment in the 
 inkstand, a tear fell from the old man's eye upon the 
 paper. 
 
 " Sign it before God ! Sign it, young man. An- 
 gels in Heaven would sign it. I would write my 
 name there ten thousand times in blood, if it would 
 restore me the loved and the lost ! " 
 
 The young man. long known as a hard drinker, 
 wrote Mortimer Hudson ! The old man looked, wiped 
 his tearful eyes, and looked again, his countenance 
 alternating with red and deathly paleness.
 
 300 MINOTE HEBMON. 
 
 " It is no, it cannot be. Yet how strange ? " 
 muttered the speaker. " God help me now ! " Cling- 
 ing to the rail, he looked with terrible earnestness 
 upon Hudson, as he slowly wrote with his left hand. 
 " Pardon me, Sir, but that was the name of my boy 
 it is my own name." 
 
 Young Hudson trembled from head to foot. Slow- 
 ly raising his head, and looking the old man in the 
 face, he held up the right arm from which the hand 
 had been severed. The two looked for a moment into 
 each other's eyes. Both reeled and clasped in close 
 embrace. 
 
 " My own deeply injured boy ! " 
 
 "My father!" 
 
 Those were words enough. Their souls seemed to 
 grow and mingle into one, in that long embrace. 
 People leaped upon their feet to catch a better view 
 of the scene, every face streaming with tears. 
 
 " Let me here thank God for this great blessing, 
 which has gladdened my guilt-burdened soul .! " ex- 
 claimed the old man. Kneeling where he was, he 
 poured out his feelings in a prayer, which, once heard, 
 never could be forgotten. 
 
 The spell was complete. The aisles and all the 
 space before the platform were crowded with people 
 eager to sign. The Hermit brushed a tear away, and 
 walked nervously backward and forward, striking his 
 staff sharply on the floor, while Halton leaned his 
 head against the platform, and wept as a strong man 
 weeps when overcome. But his tears were not all bitter.
 
 THE OLD MAN'S STOKY. 301 
 
 During the commotion Jud Lane had wormed his 
 way around to where John Gault had taken a seat, 
 and prevailed upon him to drink from a bottle which 
 he had with him. Then sending one of his crew for- 
 ward with the bottle to place it upon the table before 
 the platform, he offered Gault five dollars if he would 
 go and claim it. The drink had made Gault himself 
 again, and he was ready for the fun. Lane was mis- 
 taken in the effect which he supposed the bottle would 
 produce. The impression of the meeting had been 
 too deep to be ridiculed out of the hearts of the poo- 
 pie. The speaker used the circumstance to advantage 
 against the instigators : it was fitting, he said, that 
 the dealers, or their representatives, [the bottle was 
 black,] should be present, dressed in appropriate 
 mourning garb. 
 
 The people lingered, loth to leave the Hall. Slowly 
 working his unsteady course through the ranks of 
 those who remained, John Gault was seen moving 
 towards the table. 
 
 " Make way ! Make way for John Gault," said 
 Hal ton, helping to open a clear passage to the table. 
 "With a rocking gait the drunkard walked up to the 
 group around it, but not to sign the pledge, as ex- 
 pected. Seizing the bottle by the neck, he put it in 
 his pocket, and looking the elder Hudson cunningly 
 in the eye, stammered : 
 
 " This bottle is mine. Render unto C aesar the 
 things that are (hie) Ccesar's." The rummies ven- 
 tured a titter, and, back under the galleries, a faint
 
 302 MINNIE IIEKMON. 
 
 clapping of hands. Hudson looked him steadily and 
 sadly in the eye, and replied : 
 
 " True, John Gault, ' and to God the things that 
 are God's ! ' " 
 
 The effect was electrical, Gault was foiled with 
 his own weapons, and stood hesitating what to do or 
 say next. Hudson then appealed to him in a manner 
 which drew tears from every eye. He told Gault his 
 past history, his degradation, and pictured a future, 
 if he would sign the pledge, which was all bright 
 with hope. Every word told. The drunkard first 
 laughed, then listened, grew sad, and finally wept. 
 In his rags, and reeling, with Halton to hold his hand, 
 the name was rudely written upon the pledge. As 
 he turned away in the care of Halton and Brayton, 
 a poorly clad woman rushed down the aisle, and fell 
 upon the drunkard's neck. 
 
 " John Gault ! my brother !" she sobbed, and 
 swooned in his arms. The drunkard and his pauper 
 sister were both borne to the house of Halton, where 
 for a week true friends watched with Gault as he 
 raved in the horrible tortures of delirium tr em-ens. 
 
 During his ravings, the wretched man would have 
 sold his soul for brandy. But his bedside and door 
 were guarded by kind and faithful friends.
 
 LETTIE FENTON.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 HIGH LIFE. 
 
 FROM the commencement of our reform to the pres- 
 ent day, its opposition has been found .in the two. ex- 
 tremes of society. The so-called aristocracy of our 
 land has sneered at its progress, and treated its claims 
 with undisguised contempt. The rich and the fash 
 ionable have considered it vulgar to labor in the 
 vineyard of our common humanity, and in the midst 
 of their luxuries have given no thought to the des- 
 olations sweeping around the base of society. The 
 toilers of the day have been gathered from the middle 
 ranks, as a general thing men of honest hearts and 
 hard hands men ardent in their sympathies, and 
 bold and upright in action 
 
 We venerate genuine aristocracy, We love the 
 ring of the true metal. Its sympathies are never 
 closed against the appeals of the lowly. There is a 
 real polish an ease and gracefulness in its manner, 
 and a nobility in its action. It is the ascendancy of 
 intellect and moral worth allied to fortune. It is not 
 servile to superiors, or tyrannical and insolent to 
 those beneath. It never answers the beggar with 
 a taunt, or stares coarsely at an humble garb. It
 
 306 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 does not depend upon a heraldry of tinsel. "\Vith its 
 wealth, there are mingled the higher and nobler vir- 
 tues, which add true and enduring luster to human 
 character. 
 
 Our country is cursed with a base counterfeit. It 
 comes not of old family names or honors. It is the 
 creation of a day, and bears upon its ill-fitting gar- 
 ments the barren soil which gave it birth. It is red- 
 olent of the dunghill. Without heart, brains, or 
 character, it thrusts its overgrown and unwieldy fists 
 into kids, and takes an ungainly stride into fashiona- 
 ble life. It builds its claims upon the length of its 
 purse, and seeks elevation by looking down upon 
 those less fortunate and silly. It has no foundation 
 but dollars, ignorance, and arrogant assumption. It 
 knows no way of retaining a position but by treating 
 the more humble with coarseness and contempt. It 
 offers sickening, fulsome incense to its superiors, and 
 heaps insult and wrong upon its so-called inferiors. 
 Its manners have no more of the grace of the genuine 
 article, than the snob the bearing of the gentleman. 
 It is as much out of place in the drawing-room, as an 
 ass in a deer-park. Its attempts at gentility are sim- 
 ply repulsive. Its men live and die, and the world 
 is no better for their living. Its mothers teach their 
 daughters to forget and despise all things useful. Its 
 daughters are apt scholars, and live their worthless 
 lives between the piano, pier glass, and men as silly 
 as themselves. They thrust themselves forward aa 
 specimens of high life, upon means accumulated by
 
 HIGH LIFE. 307 
 
 humble but honest toil. Their coat of arms should 
 be the wash-tub, brick, saw, lap-stone or mason's hod, 
 ever keeping them in mind of the honorable avoca- 
 tions which gave them the means to make themselves 
 the coarse and pitiful counterfeits they are. More or 
 less of this fungus is found in every community 
 throughout the whole land. 
 
 Oakvale had its share. AVith the increase of wealth 
 and population came the miserable element, which 
 knew of no other mode of attracting attention than 
 that of feeling, and assuming to be, better than all 
 else. Independent in means, and caring not for the 
 common weal, it stood aloof from, or openly scorned 
 the temperance movements. To get drunk on wine, 
 seemed one sure way of creating a distinction between 
 them and those who would not drink, or who were 
 content to imbrute themselves upon vulgar liquors. 
 
 This class of society have been unfortunate in be- 
 ing placed in a world where they come in rude con- 
 tact with those who toil. And when misfortune antf 
 death sweep down the distinctions of earth, and con- 
 sign the millionaire and the pauper to a common level 
 and a common home, the worms know no distinc- 
 tion of persons. They feast as heartily under the 
 towering marble as under the rudely-placed sod in 
 potters field. There is a Heaven where the lowly are 
 crowned as proudly as the greatest of earth. The 
 epleridid coach, the wide domain, and the swollen 
 wealth pass not the plebeian turf. 
 
 Great principles, in their progress, leave an impresg
 
 308 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 of their true character. Side by side their footsteps, 
 evidence will arise upon either hand, remaining like 
 landmarks to attest what their influence has been. 
 Their effects upon the world pass into history, and 
 remain forever as matters of reference. 
 
 The foot-prints of Christianity can never be oblite- 
 rated. Broadly they are beaten by the herald's sandals 
 in every clime. The blood of the martyr is a record 
 which cannot be effaced. Wherever the Christian 
 lives, and suffers, and dies, the light of Hope and Faith 
 burns upward, and lights a pathway to a better land. 
 Pile hope of salvation is as steadfast and cheering in 
 the hut as in the palace. 
 
 Yet the great of earth welcomed not the kumble 
 Nazarene. They turned away from the travel-worn 
 and weary pilgrim* from Heaven. They saw not the 
 glitter of a heavenly scepter in his dust-covered staff, 
 Dr angel retinues in his humble companions. And so 
 the great and the fashionable those who looked for 
 a Saviour with bannered host and golden crown, gave 
 Him of Nazareth a crown of thorns, and spiked the 
 manger-born to the cross. 
 
 But John preached the gospel which the Nazarene 
 preached. He heralded not the coming of one sur- 
 rounded by the great and princely of earth its po- 
 tentates and nobles of renown and lordly mien a daz- 
 zling crown upon his head, scepter in hand, armed 
 legions about him, and the imperial purple, one 
 who should move in pornp and splendor, and dispense 
 honors to the great. But the dead should be raised,
 
 HIGH LIFE. 309 
 
 the blind should see, devils should be cast ont, the 
 deaf hear, the lame walk, the sorrowing be comforted, 
 and the GOSPEL BE PREACHED TO THE POOE ! Blessed 
 gospel ! 
 
 Humbly, quietly, and unheralded by noise and 
 pomp, the temperance reform made its humble ad- 
 vent. It was manger-born. There was dust on its 
 sandals, and sadness upon its brow. It wept more 
 than it smiled. It marshaled not the great, the rich 
 and the fashionable the titled aristocracy of earth. 
 It came not to give fame to governors, statesmen, 
 colonels, or millionaires. It plunged into the more 
 humble strata, and commenced its holy mission of sa- 
 ving humanity. The dead were raised from the graves 
 of their drunkenness, the devils were cast out, the 
 blind were made to see, the deaf to hear, the lame to 
 walk, and its GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR ! Bles- 
 sed temperance gospel ! 
 
 Thus came our reform. The Pharisees of earth 
 have crucified it. But wherever it has been preached 
 the evidences of its glorious character have been 
 thickly scattered. They will stand when all else fades. 
 Enough has already been achieved to reward the toil- 
 ers of .lie work for an age of effort. 
 
 In Oakvale, the high-life influences were all leagued 
 against the reform. Especially when the drunkards 
 burst from their chains and sprang into the arena, did 
 they turn sneeringly away. Hal ton, and a host of 
 such men, had been redeemed, and their homes and 
 families made blessed, but it mattered not. To go 
 13
 
 310 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 into "Washingtonianism would be coming down from 
 their position, and becoming contaminated by a con- 
 tact with the vulgar. The Fenton family, especially 
 took no pains to conceal their contempt of the meet- 
 ings, speakers and speeches. Old Fenton, from being 
 a canal driver, had become one of the " upper ten." 
 A lucky prize in the lottery was the foundation of 
 his fortunes. Subsequent speculations had made him 
 wealthy ; and by grinding the poor and " breaking 
 down rich" he had retained his position in a commu- 
 nity where there were enough to fawn and play the 
 spaniel. The Fenton family could not be bettered, in 
 their own estimation. At home, in the street, or at 
 the concert, they made a studied attempt to show off 
 their fashionable ill-breeding. When Minnie Her- 
 mon called upon Lettie Fenton to sign the pledge, she 
 was answered with insult. She did not associate with 
 poor and drunken people ! Edwin Fenton was equal- 
 ly as ill bred as his sister, when called upon by Bray- 
 ton and Halton. They, the Fentons, were in the re- 
 ception of a great deal of fashionable company, and 
 it would be vulgar not to furnish wine ! It was well 
 enough for drunkards to sign the pledge ; they were 
 weak-minded, and needed its restraint. 
 
 " If such people need restraint," retorted Halton, 
 Btung by young Fenton's insulting remarks, " I know 
 of no one a more fit subject for the pledge than your- 
 self, Mr. Fenton. I have been a drunkard ; but I was 
 first a champagne drunkard ! " 
 
 The shot told, and Fenton turned indignantly away,
 
 HIGH LIFE. 311 
 
 with the remark that the fanatics abused everybody, 
 not even excepting Elder Snyder. But they were 
 vulgar people. The young fop drew on his kids, and 
 taking a glass of wine from the sideboard, passed out 
 to call on the ladies of his acquaintance. 
 
 "With but few exceptions, the reformers encounter- 
 ed the same reception from the so-called " first fami- 
 lies." The excitement was intense, and the middle 
 and lower strata of society were deeply broken as the 
 wave rolled up from the popular heart, and swept on- 
 ward with its freight of men disenthralled. Every- 
 where the subject was talked over. As in all other 
 phases of the work, fault-finders were plenty ; and wise 
 ones, who saw danger and ruin to the cause in the 
 headlong state of things. Even the very fact that 
 Halton and his companions had reformed, was seized 
 upon and used against the "Washingtonian movement. 
 High times when old drunkards were to come up out 
 of the gutter and teach people temperance ! The up- 
 per class would not be caught in the wake of such 
 men. And there the upper class stood, cold, stub- 
 born, immovable ; presenting the strongest barrier be- 
 tween the evil and the reformers, alternately frowning 
 upon, openly abusing, or sneering at the efforts made 
 by the working men of the reform. They would rath- 
 er than not have seen defeat overwhelm the humble 
 class they despised. 
 
 "The impertinent hussy," said Ellen Belton, "to 
 come here in her every-day duds, and ask us to sign
 
 512 MINNIE IIEKMON. 
 
 the pledge. She ought to be turned into the street. 
 But some people never know their place." 
 
 " And her father one of the worst rumsellers ill 
 town, too ! " chimed in Bell Belton, a younger sister. 
 " Wonder she ain't ashamed of herself. Better ask 
 him to sign it, I should think, the saucy minx." 
 
 " And don't you think, as sure as you live, she went 
 to the counting-room and asked father to sign it 1 " 
 
 " Bless me ! What impudence these people have. 
 Shouldn't wonder if some old drunkard were next to 
 burn up his distillery ! " 
 
 "And Min Ilermon wants us to go and hunt up all 
 the miserable vagabonds in town. I wish folks would 
 mind their own business ! People like us sign the 
 pledge and join a society of vulgar, drunken men ! 
 Indeed ! " and the indignant lady flounced back upon 
 the settee, and pouted in great anger. At dinner she 
 learned that Halton and Brayton had actually called 
 upon her father, and in a lengthy and warm conver- 
 sation, dared, not only to ask him to sign the pledge, 
 but to stop distilling. It was astonishing to what 
 lengths these miserable meddlers would go. " But 
 you did not do it, Father ? " inquiringly asked both 
 of the girls at the same moment. 
 
 " Didn't do it ? Why, what are you thinking of? 
 You don't suppose I am a fool, Bell ? I'll see -them 
 all sunk before I will have anything to do with them. 
 Stop my business, and all to please a set of brawling 
 fanatic and reformed drunkards. Ha ! ha ! I had
 
 HIGH LIFE. 313 
 
 ought to have kicked the meddlers out of the office. 
 
 O 
 
 And to cap the climax, old Hermon's daughter came 
 on the same errand." 
 
 " Did you ever ! " exclaimed the daughters, in con- 
 cert. " If that don't beat all ! And she came here 
 on the same errand ; but we gave her enough to think 
 about a spell. I'll warrant she will not be caught 
 here again," and the queenly beauty tossed her head 
 defiantly. 
 
 In the afternoon young Fenton called upon the 
 Misses Belton, and the same matters were again intro- 
 duced, and over their wine they there passed many 
 a slant at the Washingtonians. The ladies laughed 
 immoderately when Fenton told them that John Gault 
 was to be sent out to lecture on temperance, and the 
 fop drank his success in a glass of wine, with the 
 remark that he would be brought home drunk from 
 the first tavern he stopped at. He did not believe 
 that one of the old soaks who had reformed, would 
 stick a fortnight. But a good many of the young men 
 were signing the pledge. Old Hermon's daughter 
 was busy, and many a one did so just on account of 
 her good looks. 
 
 " Good looks ! Humph ! " and Bell Belton looked 
 in the pier glass before her, with an air of displeasure. 
 
 " Good looking for one of the common people," put 
 in Fenton, fearing that he had offended the proud and 
 jealous beauty. The approaching evening party was 
 then discussed, and Fenton took his leave. 
 
 The " Arland House " was one of the most fash-
 
 314: MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 ionable in Oakvale. It was licensed, and its drunk- 
 ards never went to the lock-up. Those only who reel 
 in rags and live in huts, are put under lock and key 
 for drinkii g a necessary beverage. The landlord of 
 
 O V Cr 
 
 the Arland was a short, thick-set, grey-haired man 
 of about forty years of age, aifable in his manners 
 and attentive to his customers. A forced smile al ways 
 played upon his countenance, the very foot print of 
 treachery and bad faith. He was not one of the ma- 
 lignant spirits, like Jud Lane, or the sullen and plot- 
 ting ones, like Hermon ; but he cared no more for 
 those around him than for the horses in his barns. 
 He was a jovial, hale fellow well-met, with his com- 
 panions, but as destitute of heart when humanity 
 plead, as the rock bathed in sunshine. His financial 
 operations showed him a rascal in the full sense of 
 the word. Even a brother rumdealer had come under 
 his fleecing management to the tune of three or four 
 thousand dollars. As one of the officers of a state 
 institution, he had plundered the state of thousands. 
 As a professed temperance landlord he had fleeced 
 temperance people out of a fine sum, and immediate- 
 ly put in his bottles again and became more reckless 
 than ever. Ashly would have sold rum with that 
 ever-lurking smile, though an anthem of wailing went 
 up around him. The same sneering, skeptical smile 
 answered the whole battery of all the facts, and ar- 
 guments, and appeals which had been brought out 
 in the discussion of the reform. Over a tale of acci- 
 dent and sufi'ering, he would weep ; tell him that an
 
 HIGH LIFE. 315 
 
 army of drunkards were being damned around him ; 
 and their families hungry for bread, and the same* 
 cold smile would answer as in the appeal for aid. 
 
 There was a fashionable and gay party in the rooms 
 of the "Arland." The sons and daughters of temper- 
 ance people even, were assembled at the dance. The 
 better class, so called, of young men, were there. Tho 
 wine went round, and all were merry. The Wash- 
 ingtonian matters, now everywhere the absorbing top- 
 ic, were then discussed, and many a witty remark was 
 made and laughed over. As the evening wore away 
 the flow of mirth increased ; and at the table, for fash- 
 ionable people,it was uproarious. Young Fenton was 
 running over with good feeling, and Bell Belton's sal- 
 lies sparkled like the champagne she had drunk so 
 freely of. The manners, stories, and expressions of 
 the reformers, were all used with effect, and Fenton, 
 with a false rig, gave a striking representation of the 
 Hermit, as he appeared upon the stand. Bell Belton, 
 dressed as Minnie Hermon, passed round the room 
 with a champagne bottle and wine-glass, soliciting 
 signers to the pledge. They had great glee over the 
 term " upper crust," as used by Halton. An im- 
 mense chicken pie had been prepared, with an upper 
 crust ludicrously thick. At the head of the table, a 
 small banner had been placed upon a walking stick 
 stuck in a demijohn, labeled " high life." Under the 
 relaxing power of wine there was many a thing said 
 and done, which " vulgar " people in the lower walks 
 would have blushed to do.
 
 316 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 " Now for drawing o,picter" shouted young Fenton ; 
 quoting the words and pronunciation of Hal ton as 
 used in his rugged but stirring appeals. He en- 
 tered the room with a hand-sled which he had found 
 in the hall below, and, passing round the' room, in- 
 vited all to ride. " It is hard sleddin'," again quo- 
 ting Halton, " but the people are moving, and we 
 must clear the track. Who takes the first train 
 through ? Front seats reserved for the ladies ! " 
 
 Wine had made the impulsive Bell Belton bold, 
 and she promptly took her seat upon the hand-sled. 
 One of the company placed a bottle upon the sled 
 for steam, and another gave her a walking stick to 
 scull with. Some one shouted "All aboard!" and 
 rang the waiter's bell, and Fenton started, amid the 
 wild mirth of the whole party, " drawing a picter," 
 as he often announced, round and round the ball- 
 room, stopping often to " wood up," as he expressed 
 it, when drinking from the bottle upon the sled. So- 
 ber people, viewing the scene, would have blushed for 
 shame. Bell Belton actually reeled upon the sled, 
 and but for assistance, would have fallen upon the 
 floor. Her cheeks were repulsively red, her eyes 
 glassy, and her usually brilliant features wreathed in 
 the sickly leer of drunkenness! But the mirth 
 grew furious, and not until Fenton gave out from ex- 
 haustion, was the repulsive spectacle ended. The 
 landlord of the Arland had seen the whole from the 
 door, and turned away with a more than usually 
 broad smile, for he hated both the Belton and Fenton
 
 HIGH LIFE. 31T 
 
 families, and he knew that such conduct would strike 
 keenly at home. 
 
 At a late hour, the party at the Arland broke up. 
 A four-horse sleigh had been chartered to bring in 
 and carry home the company. After much trouble 
 and confusion, the village portion of the party was 
 collected in the sleigh. Young Fenton was the last 
 in, with a huge piece of cheese in one hand, and a 
 half-emptied bottle in the other. He reeled, but was 
 witty still, and his wild shouting pealed out in the 
 night's stillness. 
 
 " Let's ' wood up,' " he stammered, as he clambered 
 into the sleigh. Getting up on the back seat, he 
 assumed a theatrical attitude, with bottle in hand, and 
 in imitation of the Hermit, commenced a speech. 
 
 " Feller-citi-(hic)-zens ! wo ! wo ! Ye that tarry long 
 at the the wine, ye that mix your (hie) your liquors ! 
 Ye that stir 'em in the (hie) in the the cup. They 
 shall bite like a sar arpent, and st-hing like a like 
 a What's that other varmint? like a (hie) like 
 a the devil, my friends ! Let me wood up, and 
 I'll [gurgle, gurgle, from the bottle] (hie) " draw a 
 picter." 
 
 " I'll draw all your ' picters,' " snarled the driver, 
 shivering with cold, and he struck the leaders with 
 his whip, and yelled out " go ! " 
 
 Like a flash, Fenton was jerked from his feet over 
 the hind end of the sleigh. He caught the cloak of 
 Bell Bel ton in falling, and both went out upon the 
 curb-stoue together A shriek followed the boister-
 
 318 MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 ous ha ! ha ! of the revelers, as the drunken ones 
 came to the giound ; and as soon as the drunken dri- 
 ver could be operated upon, the sleigh was driven 
 back, and the company got out. 
 
 Some of the upper crust was broken. Fenton's 
 thigh and arm were broken. Miss Belton fell with 
 her back across the curb-stone, apd was taken up in- 
 sensible, the blood oozing from her mouth and nostrils. 
 Ilalton had materials for drawing his pictures. 
 Young Fenton was a cripple for life, and Bell Belton 
 received so severe an injury in the spine that she 
 never walked again. High life was brought low. 
 Ellen Belton married a young man of fashion, who 
 squandered her portion in drinking and gambling, and 
 became a common sot. Old Belton, in a fit of deliri- 
 um, plunged headlong into a well. One of the sons 
 died of delirium tremens in his own house, chewing 
 the flesh from his arms, and spitting it out with the 
 froth and foam of madness. Another brother fol- 
 lowed in a brief period. The last one lingered a few 
 years, a miserable drunkard was taken home from 
 one of his drunken sprees, and soon died. A splen- 
 did marble shaft in the Oakvale church-yard, broken 
 midway, impressively reads the history of the wealthy 
 and talented male members of the Belton family. 
 
 They were people of fashion, loved their wine, and 
 scorned the associations of reformed men. The re- 
 viled Ilalton lives to honor our common humanity, 
 wliue they find a drunkard's rest under marble.
 
 CHAPTER XXYI. 
 
 CLEAN TICKETS STICKING TO PARTY. 
 
 THE sweep of Washingtonianism was broad and 
 marked throughout the country. "With searching 
 power its tide plunged down among the darker cur- 
 rents of society, and ebbed back with trophies upon 
 its bosom. The deepest, darkest craters of the evil 
 were penetrated, and their infernal fires extinguished. 
 The peaks and the base of society were lashed by the 
 storm. Borne up on the exultant crest of the wave, 
 were the bruised and the broken, their filth and rags 
 fresh upon them as they came from the hut and the 
 reeking alley. Each in turn became an apostle of the 
 new doctrine, and in turn they went out and preached 
 the tidings of their redemption. The shackles fell 
 from more than one hundred thousand captives, and 
 there was one united, grand anthem of singing and 
 rejoicing for the cloud of returning prodigals which 
 darkened the pathways to the "Washingtonian shrine. 
 Like the storm in a summer day, the reform came up 
 in a clear sky. Society was gashed by the torrents 
 which quickly gathered and pressed onward, lifting 
 away from habit and prejudice the high and the 
 humble. The storm has passed by, and the channel'*
 
 320 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 bed is nearly dry. The force has been spent. There 
 are flecks of verdure blooming here and there ; but 
 the rest is dry and parched, and the death-fires of the 
 plague have licked up unnumbered trophies which 
 cost many a tear, kind word, or pleading prayer. 
 There is hardly an altar reared by the original Wash- 
 ingtonians, upon which the flame then kindled now 
 lingers. 
 
 The careful observer could have foretold the fail- 
 ure of the movement to eradicate the evil. Like an 
 angry surge, it hoarsely thundered around the walls 
 of the old Babylon. It left the mark of its force where 
 it struck, but the hoary battlements remained in their 
 strength. It could not be otherwise. They were 
 based upon law, and a hedge of legislative enactments 
 bristled in unbroken strength. The government in- 
 terposed its all-powerful arm, and the traffic, under 
 the aegis of its protection, smiled in security and scorn. 
 As the flushed legions of the reformers recoiled from 
 the stronghold, impregnable to their moral weapons, 
 thousands despaired and deserted. An amnesty of 
 offences was everywhere declared ^ by the enemy. 
 Others were left alone, exposed to the treacherous 
 sally, and went down in the unequal contest. " Torn 
 but flying," the reform banner could only be planted 
 where it could flout the emblem of legalized piracy, 
 or at times be borne by forlorn hopes again and again 
 to the breach. 
 
 As the eiiemy has slimed his retreating way from 
 one position to another, the trail has ever been fol-
 
 STICKING TO PAKTY. 321 
 
 lowed up by the beleaguering hosts. The last strong- 
 holds have been reached. The capitol was besieged 
 and flooded with petitions. The mighty evil took the 
 alarm, and leagued with party interests. Vanquished 
 by argument in the council-chamber, it rallied at the 
 ballot-box. There the unholy alliance turned for the 
 last hand-to-hand conflict. There, at the fountain- 
 head of a people's power, legislators of the right com- 
 plexion were to be annually created, and the traffic 
 thus sustained and perpetuated at the capitol. Against 
 this union of party and law, the reformers were asked 
 to quietly use their moral weapons. They were to be 
 content to labor for the salvation of the drunkards 
 made by government ; casting their suffrages for the 
 perpetuation of the evils of intemperance, and at the 
 same time content to petition for their removal. They 
 might have thus toiled forever. Their efforts would 
 have fallen as far short of arresting the tide, as the 
 sunbeam which lingers upon the sweeping surface of 
 Niagara. 
 
 The extent to which parties have been disciplined, 
 has proved a curse to our country. The right of suf- 
 frage has been most basely prostituted. Unscrupu- 
 lous demagogism has for years controlled our elec- 
 tions. Politics, in the common meaning of the term, 
 have become as corrupt and foul as rum and intrigue 
 can make them. Honesty in political management 
 is not known. "All is fair in politics," is the basis 
 of action. The vei y heart of the country has been 
 corrupted, freemen bartered like cattle in the market,
 
 322 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 or led like bound slaves, and their suffrages swindled 
 away for less than pottage. The caucus system, and 
 the means for the consummation of its frauds, have 
 bred the deepest corruption in the public morals. 
 Honor and virtue have become objects of hissing and 
 scorn. From the sacred precincts of home, the citi- 
 zen has plunged for years into the blighting mael- 
 strom of the u sweat-pit " debauch". The more hon- 
 orable man in common intercourse, becomes a liar 
 and a knave in the intrigues and swindles of election- 
 eering. The accursing element has reeked at the 
 church altar. Its foul and bestial breath has mingled 
 with the hollow prayer ; its hand, stained with the 
 leprous pollutions of the rum-treating carnival, has 
 desecrated the broken body of Christ. From the Sac- 
 rament the political recreant has gone out to buy 
 votes with rum, and drink with the boisterous and 
 vile. Moral and religious principles are alike sacri- 
 ficed to secure personal or party aims. The sot and 
 libertine has slavered on the bench, and the embodi- 
 ment of dram-shop ruffianism stalked, through the 
 controlling machinery of party deception, into the 
 senate chamber. Everywhere, men whom justice 
 would honor with dungeon and shackle, have wormed 
 into positions of emolument and trust. Our elections 
 have dishonored the country and its people eleva- 
 ting the unworthy to power, and sapping public and 
 private virtue. The ballot-box has been used as the 
 most potent engine of the profligate and abandoned, 
 the purchased mercenaries o f the dram-shop and
 
 STICKING TO PABTY. 323 
 
 brothel disfranchising tne citizen who has a stake in 
 society, and sending their otvn appropriate represent- 
 atives to legislate for, or administer the laws of the 
 country. 
 
 The caucus system has been the main-spring the 
 controlling power of this evil. It has placed the po- 
 litical helm in the hands of the unprincipled few. 
 Cliques of village demagogism have led the masses 
 for years. The machinery is set in motion by two or 
 three at the capital, or the county seat ; it reaches the 
 smaller fry in the towns, and all delegations are 
 packed at an early day. The same influences control 
 the nominating conventions ; on motion, all is declared 
 unanimous ; public opinion in high-sounding resolu- 
 tions, is put before the honest yeomanry, and the nom- 
 inees are before the people. A corrupting fund, un- 
 der the false name of a, printing fund, is then assessed 
 on the candidates, the taverns are subsidized, and 
 the strife commences. The open purchase of votes 
 by money, or the gambling for them in the groggery, 
 are the only means depended upon by the party. 
 The press lends itself to the demoralizing work. The 
 most exemplary citizen is transformed into an angel 
 of darkness, and branded with all things infamous, 
 while scoundrels by profession and practice, if on the 
 ' regular nominations," are as falsely transformed 
 into prodigies of integrity, purity, and moral worth. 
 Under such a state of things, honorable men liave 
 shunned the caucus, where the worst portion of socie- 
 ty controls and manufactures the " popular will."
 
 324: 1UNNIE HERMON. 
 
 They shrink from nominations when their inmost lives 
 are fastened upon by the fiendishness of the party 
 press, or of the bar-room blackguard, and. torn piece- 
 meal into shreds. A foreigner, visiting this country 
 in the height of an exciting political campaign, would 
 at once determine that both parties had selected, as 
 the candidates for their suffrages, the vilest class 
 they could hunt out from the depths of scoundrelism. 
 A day of drunkenness, riot, profanity, and revolting 
 revelry has closed up the plan of operations, and the 
 patriot cheek reddens with hot shame at the wide- 
 spread dishonor, as well as shudders at the foot-marks 
 of the plague which is preying upon the morals of 
 the country. Deeper than pit-marks, the cancer eats 
 at the heart of our institutions. 
 
 In Oakvale, party feeling ran high. Each party 
 had established a press, and the columns of each pa- 
 per teemed with low and scurrilous abuse of the op- 
 position. Bar-room demagogism echoed the assaults. 
 Hum and slang were the standing batteries. So pow- 
 erful and corrupting were the operations the disci- 
 pline of party that those who would not be seen in 
 the bar-room, would furnish funds to imbrute their 
 neighbors and cheat them of their suffrages. "All is 
 fair in politics," was the motto ; and the church-mem- 
 ber and moralist closed their eyes with the villainous 
 reflection that, as the opposing party did, so they 
 were justified in doing. 
 
 As the more sagacious of the temperance people 
 had carried on the struggle, they had learned the fact
 
 STICKING TO PARTY. 325 
 
 that the rum interest was the great lever of party 
 demagogism, and that there was a close union be- 
 tween party and the traffic. To be available, a can- 
 didate must stand favorably with the liquor people. 
 If obnoxious to that class, he was either cut down in 
 caucus or convention, or stabbed at the election. The 
 liquor interest was ever consistent, and at the polls 
 voted for its men, regardless of party. Hence the 
 determination of parties to always mould their nomi- 
 nations so as to secure the support of the dramshops. 
 As light broke in, there were murmurings at the tyr- 
 anny of party bondage. It bound men in dishonor- 
 ing slavery. It chained them to the service of party, 
 however repugnant to their sense of honor. Galley 
 slaves, chained to the party oar, they were compelled 
 to toil to sustain the very evils which they were sworn 
 against. Shoulder to shoulder with rumsellers and 
 their bloated minions, honorable men, as members of 
 party, were compelled to support those who were 
 deadly opposed to the great cause they professed to 
 lore. Thus boards of excise and legislatures were 
 annually created of men who were sworn enemies to 
 the temperance cause, by those who were its sworn 
 friends. Thus blindly and fatally were men held 
 in thrall by the magic influence of party discipline ! 
 The impracticables, or radicals, of Oakvale, had 
 already given the party demagogues trouble. While 
 they contented themselves with declamation in the 
 church or lecture room ; with adopting resolutions or 
 the compilation of statistics, no trouble was appre-
 
 326 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 bended. The war of words amounted to nothing, so 
 long as they " stuck to party " and kept the temper- 
 ance question " out of politics," voting steadily in ut- 
 ter violation of all their professions. The party lead- 
 ers were all "just as good" temperance men, espe- 
 cially before elections, as men could be; but it would 
 prove the ruin of the cause the moment its misguided 
 friends dragged it into the political arena. It was too 
 holy a cause to be thus destroyed ! And so these men 
 continually whined forth their hypocrisy. At the 
 same time they were unblushingly plunging into the 
 deepest corruptions of bar-room electioneering. -But 
 party attachments were strong, the better people 
 blind and easily duped. Even at this day, many 
 boast that they never " split a ticket ! " which is equiv- 
 alent to saying that they have voted for the most vile 
 and profligate of men, merely because put in nomi- 
 nation by their party conventions! 
 
 Oak vale had its share of demagogues. They were 
 loud in their professions of regard for the people, and 
 ever eager to serve their country in a public capacity. 
 From the higher position to the most menial, there 
 was a hungry pack of petty office-seekers, stooping 
 to every trick to secure popular favor. Some impor- 
 tant measure was made the pretext for their wondrous 
 zeal, and the masses were appealed to annually to 
 rally against the phantom danger. 
 
 Skillott was one of the most crafty, as well as OHO 
 of the most unscrupulous. He had a saint-like coun- 
 tenance, and a honeyed phrase for all. He was
 
 STICKING TO i'AliTY. 327 
 
 in his manner, kad well calculated to win favor. But 
 a blacker heart than his never beat in human frame. 
 Fresh from the brothel or the drinking and gambling 
 saloon, he would rub his hands, and in gentle speech 
 talk to temperance men of the value of sobriety, and 
 to Christians of the sublime truths of the Bible. He 
 would converse for hours with the pastor on religious 
 or moral subjects, or as readily find congenial spirits 
 in dens of vice amid the clink of glasses, with the ruf- 
 fian or the wanton. With a cat-like pace and meek 
 countenance, he pursued his way towards the goal of 
 his ambition. 
 
 There was another who must not be forgotten. He 
 was a prominent member of the - church, and 
 had made loud professions of temperance and religion. 
 He had left his old political friends at an early day, 
 and joined the ascending party, accepting its crumbs 
 with eagerness, and becoming one of the most deter- 
 mined advocates of - principles. His pew in the 
 church was never empty. From the avails of fat offi- 
 ces, he gave liberally to the church and the pastor. 
 He was a devoted Christian, and was anxious to give 
 as far as he was able, to the cause of religion ! He 
 agreed with all people. As he waxed fat at the pub- 
 lic crib, he became valorous of his services to the 
 party, and constituted himself one of its pillars. Men 
 owed their nominations and elections to this potent 
 calculator ! He could figure out a result with unpre- 
 tending ease, and always predicted the result, after 
 it was known to a certainty. He loved the temper-
 
 328 MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 ance cause. With its most radical friends, he was 
 radical ; with the half-way friend, he was half-way ; 
 with the drinking man, he was liberal; and, though 
 a temperance man, did not object to others doing as 
 they pleased ; to the dealer, he was bland, nodded 
 and winked knowingly, sneered at those who were 
 ruining the temperance cause, and at elections called 
 up the rabble and treated them. The other party did 
 BO ! When he was up for an important office, he 
 chuckled over his tact at swimming between the two 
 interests. In the bar-room he avowed himself a tem- 
 perance man, and threw down the five dollars to treat 
 the company ! He was perfectly willing that other 
 people should exercise their own opinion in such mat- 
 ters. To the temperance men he whined about per- 
 secution, and thought, as he had always been a tem- 
 perance man, they ought to " turn in " and sustain 
 him. His position in the church was used for the 
 same purpose, and as falsely. From the church he 
 passed to the groggery. He would descend to the 
 lowest haunt. He would drink with the vilest, or fur- 
 nish money to inebriate a score in the " sweat-pit," 
 where voters were manufactured the Sabbath be- 
 fore election. Barrels of beer, and crackers and 
 cheese, were placed at eligible localities before elec- 
 tions, to secure suffrages. And Mr. Dobbs, at the 
 game time, most bitterly lamented the course of those 
 "hot-heads" who were determined to drag the tem- 
 perance cause into politics. He was as much of a 
 temperance man as any one ; but he could not coirn-
 
 STICKING TO PARTY. 329 
 
 tenance any such folly. The " cussed fools " [Mr. 
 Dob bs never wore his religion across the church thresh- 
 old] would destroy all the good that had been done 
 in spite of all he could say or do. In. the Alhambra 
 he reiterated his grievances over Cogniac and fried 
 liver. 
 
 "Walter Brayton had somewhat cooled in his tem- 
 perance zeal. The canker of political ambition had 
 entered his heart, and he gave his hopes to the at- 
 tainment of political distinction. He dreamed not of 
 the pitfalls which lay in his path. And upon such 
 men the allurements of political life win like a charm 
 stealthily but strongly binding the better impulses, 
 antil the victim is blindly led' a slave to party. 
 
 Skillott was a keen observer of human nature. He 
 had discovered the weak point in Brayton's character, 
 and formed his plans accordingly. He hated the tal- 
 ented lawyer with a deep and unyielding hate. He 
 now plotted his ruin with the coolness of a savage, 
 and proceeded to weave the web around his powerful 
 rival. Skillott was, too, politically ambitious. He 
 would secure the aid and influence of Brayton, bind 
 him to his interests, and ruin him in the process. 
 It was a bold plan, and fatally consummated, as the 
 sequel will show. 
 
 With smiles and kind words, and an earnestly ox- 
 pressed interest in his welfare, the crafty counselor 
 commenced his approaches. They were coolly met 
 at first. But words were dropped where they would 
 reach Brayton's ears. Tools were found to join in the
 
 330 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 plot. Ere the victim had seen a mesh, the fire hacl 
 been kindled in his heart, and the light of its false 
 glare had secured his attention. But for these new 
 feelings, he would have seen the change in his acts 
 and sentiments as a temperance reformer. One ex- 
 cuse after another came readily to his mind ; and ere 
 six months had passed by, Walter Brayton's voice 
 was hardly heard upon the platform. Many a true 
 friend mourned this change, but could not account 
 for it. The Washingtonian interest flagged, for a 
 strong man had been bound, and the enemy came in 
 like a flood. Many a poor wretch gave way when 
 "Walter ceased to nerve by his presence and trumpet 
 peals. Walter found himself looking with less re- 
 pugnance upon men whom he had so strongly de- 
 nounced. The temperance meeting was almost en- 
 tirely abandoned. When he did attend, some un- 
 worthy excuse was formed to rid himself of the call 
 of the audience. Skillott courted his company, and 
 cunningly infused more poison into his mind. Once 
 drifting away, there was danger of an utter wreck 
 He was invited to political gatherings, and called out 
 in addresses. His eloquence was popular with the 
 masses, and the incense of popular applause proved 
 grateful to the new master whjch had so suddenly 
 sprung up full grown in his bosom. He became a 
 leading spirit in political campaigns, and saw open 
 before him a career of much promise. 
 
 Walter Bray ton was drifting from his better 
 moorings !
 
 STICKING TO PARTY. 331 
 
 There was one friend who had watched "Walter's 
 course with all the anxiety of her deep and change- 
 less love. She had listened to him while he plead 
 the wrongs of the drunkard, and loved him for his 
 uncompromising opposition to the traffic. Against 
 the bitter words of her father and he seldom spoke 
 otherwise than bitterly to her she had defended 
 Walter. Hermon had sworn that Walter Brayton 
 should never marry a daughter of his he should 
 die first. Minnie had turned away from the infuria- 
 ted drunkard and wept in secret not so much at what 
 the madman said, as at the deep ruin which his 
 habits had brought upon him. She had also found 
 trouble in the new associations of Brayton. She in- 
 stinctively shrank from Skillott. That instinct told 
 her that there was danger in his stealthy tread and 
 glittering eye. The lawyer had said but little to her. 
 but there had been something in his manner which 
 she loathed and dreaded. She had noticed his inti- 
 macy with Brayton, and she foreboded evil from it. 
 She felt that the crafty and unprincipled man was no 
 friend to Walter. There was some evil design con- 
 cealed under his assumed friendship, and she deter- 
 mined to watch every movement with a jealous eye. 
 
 Walter seldom spent much time at Hermon'sin the 
 company of Minnie ; it only subjected both her and 
 himself to abuse from the sullen and revengeful land- 
 lord. Of late he had seen her less than usual. Al- 
 though her love for him had been tried, even in the 
 ordeal of tears and blows, doubts of her truth had
 
 332 illXXIE HERMON. 
 
 been planted in his mind. The evil seed had been 
 carelessly sown by an evil hand, and, in spite of all 
 she had been to him, was taking root. As the new 
 mistress, Ambition, won his attention, he more readi- 
 ly became distrustful of the other. "With devilish 
 cunning, Skillott had dropped expressions in Walter's 
 hearing which lingered and rankled, and grew with 
 the food they fed upon. Even her night pilgrimages 
 of mercy going out in the depths of the night to dis- 
 pense her charities, so as to escape the abuse of her 
 father were artfully colored into whispers against her. 
 Often, on such errands, she was accompanied by the 
 Hermit. Skillott put on a look of sadness as he care- 
 lessly alluded to the matter, regretting that so fine a 
 woman as Miss Hermon should be so strangely fasci- 
 nated by that artful man. Their movements in the 
 night were for no good purpose, he feared. And the 
 fearful influence of Skillott had so soon been woven 
 around Walter, that he listened to such things without 
 a word of rebuke ! 
 
 The night darkened around Minnie Hermon ! 
 
 Late in the summer there was an announcement 
 made of a temperance meeting, which produced no 
 little excitement. John Gault was to speak. Like a 
 meteor, his name had shot up into the sky. His fiery 
 eloquence had kindled an excitement wherever he 
 had been, and people everywhere were on the tip-toe 
 to hear him. The press, in spite of its subserviency 
 to the rum power, had awarded him the highest posi-
 
 STICKING TO PAKTT. 
 
 tion as a natural orator. The people of Oakvale 
 beard and doubted, yet were anxious to judge for 
 themselves. ,- 
 
 Minnie had, late in the evening of the meeting, 
 while returning from some of her visits, met Walter 
 and Skillott in company. The latter excused himself, 
 and passed on with a smile, leaving "Walter and Min- 
 nie to cross the street to the Home, in company. She 
 asked Walter if he was going to the meeting, to which 
 be returned an evasive answer. 
 
 " And why not ? " she frankly inquired, looking 
 closely and familiarly in his face. He stammered 
 out some excuse, and turned to go. 
 Walter ! " 
 
 The tones of her voice, now deeply earnest and sad, 
 arrested him. She hesitated a moment, choking back 
 .a sigh which struggled up from her heavy heart. 
 
 "Walter ! what strange spell has been thrown over 
 you within the last six months ? Your acts, your 
 smiles, your words are not like yourself. Why do 
 you shun me lately ? Tell me, Walter ! what have I 
 done to merit it? It is sad indeed, if, in the sore 
 troubles that thicken around me, you are to turn away. 
 Walter Bray ton, you are the soul of honor and truth, 
 and I conjure you, tell me the reason of all this. If 
 new troubles have come upott you, let me know them 
 as you once did. My own are bitter enough, God 
 knows ; but I have a heart to feel for those of of 
 my friends." 
 Minnie choked and kept down the endearing terra
 
 334: MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 which came tip for utterance. Walter's cold and al- 
 tered manner repelled the warmth of love which 
 with her knew no change. 
 
 Like a culprit, Bray ton cowered as her words fell 
 upon him like thongs. There, before her, his man- 
 hood told -him that she was all that he had ever been 
 happy to dream her ; and the first generous impulse 
 prompted him to tell her all, and to ask her forgive- 
 ness. Then came between him and her the cold, 
 sneering image of Skillott, and the promise of a high 
 political position at the coming election. He felt that 
 lie had wronged her, and he ungenerously hunted 
 fora justification of his course. He was too proud 
 to acknowledge his error. Minnie continued to urge 
 an explanation. 
 
 " Walter, I shall urge you no more. I am not ig- 
 norant of the source of your cruel suspicions. Your 
 mind has been poisoned. You have taken an enemy 
 remember, Walter, an enemy to your bosom, and 
 he will sting you, fatally, I fear. Once you would not 
 have listened to a whisper against Minnie Hermon. 
 You believed her all that was pure and worthy. But 
 friend after friend of the drunkard's daughter turns 
 away. To lose one I have so leaned upon, is harder 
 than all. But it matters not. With a brand upon 
 me, I cannot expect the noble and the good to remain 
 steadfast. Walter Brayton ! [and she breathed the 
 words close to his burning cheek] I know all. One 
 year ago you would have crushed the viper who 
 would have breathed aught against me Frank as I
 
 STICKING TO PAKTY. 335 
 
 ever have been, I now say, with a heart breaking un- 
 der this last blow, I absolve you from every vow to 
 me. I will not stoop to counteract the poison of one 
 who i? an enemy of us both. I would yield my life 
 for you, "Walter, but I never will defend myself from 
 slanders lodged in the mind of one I would have 
 trusted in all ordeals. Tour suspicions are cruel, and 
 I may say, unworthy of Walter Brayton, and an affi- 
 anced husband. You may not thank me for what I 
 say ; but as one who has madly loved who will 
 love while she lives, one I can only know as a 
 friend I warn you of the evil designs of those who 
 are luring you out upon the treacherous sea of polit- 
 ical ambition. Those who tempt, seek your ruin. 
 Beware of Skillott, for he is an enemy now, as he 
 ever has been. And if you should ever see the 
 day when all false friends desert, the ill-fated Min- 
 nie Hermon will be a friend still. Generous, but 
 deceived friend ! with God's blessing upon you, 
 good " 
 
 She could not speak the word. The deeper heart- 
 tide of her strong woman's love came like a flood upon 
 her, and she wrung his hand and wept, and then hur- 
 ried through the hall to her chamber. 
 
 And darker still the night around her. She would 
 not have thus boldly released Brayton from his vows, 
 but she believed that, with his opening prospects of 
 distinction, he had become ashamed of his connection 
 with the daughter bf one who was now considered the 
 basest in the community. She felt the injury, and
 
 336 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 scorned to claim the love of one who appeared to 
 shun an alliance with a name so branded by all. 
 
 " She plays well," gravely remarked Skillott, as he 
 emerged from the hall door. " I was an unwilling 
 listener to your conversation, Mr. Brayton. Miss 
 Ilermon is very willing to release you from your en- 
 gagement. There are reasons for all things. Step 
 this way." Skillott took the arm of Brayton, who 
 followed abstractedly out upon the stoop, and up a 
 pair of stairs into the piazza above. The light came 
 from an open window. As Skillott and Brayton ap- 
 proached it, the former motioned, cautioned and whis- 
 pered "false the proof" In cooler moments, Bray- 
 ton would have scorned the act of looking through an 
 open window for such a purpose. 
 
 Yet he loved Minnie Ilermon, and the demon of 
 jealousy was again aroused. She almost wished to 
 find some justification of his suspicions, yet dreaded 
 such a result. As he heard voices in the room, one 
 of them masculine and the other Minnie's, all doubts 
 of the propriety of the act gave way before the fe- 
 verish anxiety to see and know who was in the 
 chamber. 
 
 At a table covered with books and writing mate- 
 rials, sat the Hermit, the wide-brimmed hat removed 
 from the broad and now handsome-looking brow, and 
 his usually wild eye beaming with a mild and tender 
 light. Minnie had thrown her bonnet upon the sofa, 
 and stood leaning against the book-case, sobbing vio- 
 lently. The Hermit was asking, in kindly tones, the
 
 STICKING TO PARTY. 33Y 
 
 cause of her tremble, and finally arose and put his 
 arm around her waist, brushed her hair away with 
 his hand, and imprinted a kiss familiarly upon her 
 cheek. She made no effort to repel the familiarity. 
 
 Brayton turned away with a sickening sensation, 
 the hot blood flooding to the cheek and again back 
 to the heart, burning in the damning proof as it 
 coursed in its throbbing channels. As he reeled 
 towards the stairway, Skillott glided to his side, and 
 without a word thrust a crumpled paper into his hand 
 and disappeared. 
 
 The paper was a letter. Brayton read it again and 
 again, every character a barb, leaving its rankling 
 venom to fester in his heart. It was in the hand-wri- 
 ting of Minnie ; there could be no mistake. It was 
 but farther confirmation of her falsehood. 
 
 " Father stormed terribly, when I told him who 
 you were, and made threats which I will not repeat. 
 But he dare not refuse the proposition. I have had 
 many fears lately, and it will be a boon to have one 
 near on whom I can lean in trouble. You will have 
 the room which opens out upon the piazza. It is 
 close by mine, and we can spend many an hour to- 
 gether, when there are no suspicious eyes to pry into 
 our intimacy. 
 
 " From your affectionate 
 
 " MINNIE."
 
 338 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 New emotions raged in Brayton's bosom. He had 
 been deceived, betrayed. Minnie Hermon was false. 
 The proof was overwhelming ; and his rival was that 
 canting hypocrite. He crushed the letter in his hand, 
 and with firm-set teeth, arose and walked the room 
 until a late hour. New that she had proved faithless 
 and he saw her throwing herself away upon another, 
 he learned how deeply he had loved her, and how 
 heavy the blow. He proudly determined to forget 
 her in the pursuit of his ambitious political aspirings, 
 and bend all his energies to achieve fame and power. 
 The noise of his triumph might reach and wound her 
 who had so deceived him. 
 
 There was another night-walker in the neighbor- 
 hood. Skillott had peered in through the office win- 
 dow, and witnessed the working of his scheme. His 
 web was closing surely around the victim. 
 
 As election approached the excitement in relation 
 to candidates increased. Skillott was in for the nom- 
 ination for judge, and had secured the support of 
 Brayton, by a promise to go in for him the next fall, 
 for representative to Congress. The temperance peo- 
 ple, too, must be courted.* Dobbs was selected for 
 that purpose. Skillott and his clique knew him to be 
 utterly unprincipled, and ambitious for a place. A 
 promise of a nomination for the clerkship of the 
 county had secured his influence. As many of the 
 temperance people as he could deceive, was so much 
 gain. Halton being the ruling spirit among the 
 Washingtonians, Dobba approached him. Yet the
 
 STICKING TO PAETT. 339 
 
 old veteran was a knotty customer to deal with. But 
 there were few of the temperance people at the cau- 
 cuses, and Skillott delegates were chosen without 
 much opposition. The game had been as well man- 
 aged throughout the county, and at the convention 
 the ballot for Skillott, as candidate for judge, was 
 very large, and, on motion of Dobbs, it was declared 
 " unanimous." Many people murmured that such a 
 man should be presented for so important an office ; 
 but the machinery of party was set in motion, and 
 there were few at that time that had the moral 
 courage to openly rebel against his nomination. A 
 bolter was odious. People dared not reject a portion 
 of the regular party ticket. The overshadowing des- 
 potism of party was brought to bear upon every man. 
 who claimed the right to act as a freeman in the dis- 
 charge of the right of suffrage. 
 
 " Well, Halton," said Dobbs, one morning, after 
 the nominations, "How will your folks go? For 
 Skillott, I s'pose ? " 
 
 " I don't know," answered Halton, " how others 
 will go, but I shall go against him." 
 
 " What ! and a good Whig, too ? " 
 
 " Whig or no whig, I never can go for such a man 
 for office, especially that of judge." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I don't like the man. His principles and habits 
 both unfit him for the position." 
 
 " Well, I know he is not what you call a radical 
 temperance man ; but then, he is a friend of the
 
 340 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 cause. But because a man don't think as we do, or 
 takes a drink once in a while, his own party friends 
 ought not to turn against him when he has received 
 the nomination." 
 
 " I have my doubts about this doctrine of sticking 
 to party, right or wrong." 
 
 " If all were to take that ground at every little 
 thing 'that turned up, the party would be broken upj 
 and no good Whig could be elected to any office." 
 
 " I very much question whether there is any ne- 
 cessity for a party whose corruption is such that the 
 worst men in community are nominated for the sup- 
 port of honorable men." 
 
 " We cannot always expect the best of men to be 
 nominated. It wont do to draw the lines too close in 
 these matters, or the party cannot stick together. If 
 a man receives a nomination, his party ought to sus- 
 tain him. And besides, there are great principles at 
 stake. They can only be carried out by well organ- 
 ized party strength. We must go the regular party 
 nominations." 
 
 " When they are secured by fraud ? " 
 
 " Ahem ! there will be more or less management in 
 all nominations. One party does it, and the other 
 must. It's all fair in politics ? " 
 
 " And so the commission of a fraud by one party, 
 justifies the commission of another." 
 
 " Well, they are obliged sometimes to do it, yoa 
 know, to keep the party together." 
 
 " But why not nominate good men, as well as bad ? "
 
 STICKING TO PARTY. 341 
 
 " We can't always do that. I would be ahem 1 
 glad to see it so ; but a party is made up of all kinds 
 of folks, and we cannot always have things just as we 
 want them. Our party is a good deal better about 
 such things than the other ; so it would be no use to 
 bolt a nomination. It would only injure the party 
 without effecting anything. I feel bound to go the 
 regular nominations." 
 
 " But the way these nominations are often made ia 
 an outrage. Look at Skillott's." 
 
 " Why, he was nominated unanimously ! " 
 
 " Unanimously ! and by a convention of packed 
 delegates." 
 
 " What do you mean by packed delegates ? " 
 
 " I mean that he and his clique scoured the county 
 three weeks before the caucuses, and cut and dried 
 the whole concern. His nomination was secured be- 
 fore the convention met, and men only came here to 
 go through the farce of nominating him ' unani- 
 mously.' ' : 
 
 " O well, everybody tries to get all the delegates 
 they can. That's all right." 
 
 " Right to spend money, treat rum, and buy up del- 
 egates ? What kind of men had he from this village, 
 and how were they selected ? " 
 
 " What of 'em ? " briefly asked Dobbs, his face 
 reddening, for he had been one of Skillott's delegates. 
 
 " Sure enough. What of 'em ? Rumsellers, sots, 
 gamblers, libertines, and abandoned characters, with 
 few exceptions. You know it as well as I do. .And
 
 34:2 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 we are bound to stick to party nominations when 
 made by such men ! " 
 
 " Your prejudices are too strong, Halton. You are 
 Baying a good deal. The party is not to blame for 
 having bad men in it. It ought not to be held re- 
 sponsible. 
 
 "And had honorable party men, then, ought to be 
 held responsible to sustain the results brought about 
 by such characters ? " 
 
 "Why, I've seen nothing very bad no worse 
 than all parties do. We cannot better the matter by 
 splitting tickets. Every true party man must go the 
 clean ticket." 
 
 " What do you call a clean ticket ? " 
 
 "A regular ticket, made out by regular party con- 
 ventions, where the whole have a voice in the matter. 
 Every one is bound to vote a ' clean ticket.' >: 
 
 "And so then, the Skillott ticket is a clean one ? " 
 
 " Why, certainly ; he's regularly nominated. It is 
 the regular ticket." 
 
 "And we are bound to vote for whoever is put in 
 nomination by the party." 
 
 " Most certainly, according to all established 
 usage." 
 
 "And so if the devil should be put in nomination 
 by a party convention, a burglar or a horse-thief, it 
 would be a regular, ' clean ticket,' and the party 
 would be bound to go it." 
 
 " You don't mean to compare Mr. Skillott to a bur- 
 glar or horse-thief, I hope?" crustily exclaimed
 
 STICKING TO PARTY. 343 
 
 Dobbs. getting nettled at the pointed questions of 
 Hal ton. 
 
 " No ; but he was nominated by those, many of 
 them no better." 
 
 "Yon talk like a fool. It is just such kind of 
 talk as injures the cause. I am just as much of a 
 temperance man as anybody, but there is no use in 
 acting like a fool." 
 
 " Better a fool than a hypocrite and knave," coolly 
 retorted Halton. 
 
 "Ahem ! I I did not mean that you were a fool, 
 but some people are so ultra that they never win 
 effect anything." 
 
 " You say you are as much of a temperance man 
 as anybody. And yet you all the time go in with 
 those who are deadly in their hatred to our cause." 
 
 " O, they belong to the party. I can't help that." 
 
 " But you could have helped going down to the 
 * Columbian,' among the reeking dens of pollution, 
 and in company with state-prison birds, brothel keep- 
 ers, and gambling vagabonds, treating to liquor, ma- 
 king speeches, and manufacturing votes for Skillott's 
 caucus. Was that like a temperance man, Mr. 
 Dobbs?" 
 
 " You and your hot heads always abuse people, do- 
 ing the temperance cause ten times more hurt than 
 good. You are determined to go to the devil." 
 
 " And," continued Halton, " last Sunday you came 
 from church and went into the Alhambra and drinked 
 brandy, and talked politics with the set that there
 
 344 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 herd ; and in the evening, again at the Columbian, 
 manufacturing Skillott delegates. You say that when- 
 ever the time comes to carry out temperance princi- 
 ples, you will be one of the best. That means that 
 while office and party are to be served by treating 
 whisky, and going regular nominations, you stick to 
 party; but when the temperance sentiment is the 
 strongest, you will be ready to ride that ! " 
 
 " You 're a set of cussed fools, all of you. You 
 want to drag the temperance cause into politics and 
 ruin it entirely. Bolt your ticket if you want to, and 
 Bee what you '11 get if you ever come up for an office. 
 I would vote for an out-an-out rummy before I would 
 for such ad d fanatic. I have been a temperance 
 man this a this twenty years, and get only abuse 
 for it." 
 
 Dobbs put his unwieldy hulk in rapid motion a 
 persecuted man, in his own estimation. His temper- 
 ance professions were only met with abuse. He had 
 tried all he could to keep temperance out of politica 
 and save the cause, and his efforts were thus unappre- 
 ciated. Men would act like fools. 
 
 The stickler for party nominations was in a sweat. 
 He wished to ride both horses, but the fanatics gave 
 him trouble. An hour after his conversation with 
 Halton, he could have been found in the Alhambra, 
 rehearsing his grievances, and his efforts to keep the 
 temperance question oat of politics. He never had 
 believed in mixing religion or temperance with hi# 
 politics, He never did.
 
 STICKING TO PARTY. 345 
 
 Skillott's nomination was an outrage. The outrage 
 was consummated by his election. An unprincipled 
 debauchee. assumed the ermine, and became a minis- 
 ter of the law. The moral and Christian men of the 
 party scorned the man. They knew him utterly un- 
 fit for such a position. His election would, they 
 knew, be a disgrace to the Bench, an injury to .the 
 cause of good morals, and an outrage upon justice. 
 But there was no way to avoid it. He was nomina- 
 ted regularly by the party, and party men must sup- 
 port him. Bolters were branded as worse than Judas 
 Iscariots, and deserving of all the opprobrium which 
 party minions and the party press could invoke. 
 Deep and unending political damnation was invoked 
 upon the man who dared to split a ticket. The press 
 stood ready with thongs of bitter denunciation to 
 scourge the hesitating or refractory. The citizen 
 might boast of being a freeman, but no Russian serf 
 was more a cringing slave to his master, than he to 
 his party. In the Oakvale Daily Advertiser, of the 
 day previous to election, the following article was 
 aimed at the " restless spirits " who dared to talk of 
 voting as they professed : 
 
 " Upon the success of the party depends the 
 
 adoption or rejection of those great principles of na- 
 tional and state policy which have so vital a bearing 
 upon the prosperity of our country. The opposition 
 is pledged to an unscrupulous and vindictive warfare 
 
 upon the best interests of the Republic. The 
 
 party is emphatically the party of the people. The
 
 34:6 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 party is made up of individuals, and each true 
 
 will see the importance of being true to the time-lion 
 
 ored faith. No true will falter. Upon the nni 
 
 ted and undivided party the future prosperity of the 
 state and nation depends. Its integrity must be pre- 
 served. 
 
 " From personal and petty piques, there are some- 
 limes found in parties, " restless spirits," who wish to 
 carry their personal animosities into their political 
 
 action. They wish to make the party an engine 
 
 to carry out their own selfish aims. Great principles 
 are nothing to such men. The integrity of the party 
 must be periled to gratify their one ideaism. "We 
 have our eye upon some such who have enjoyed and 
 now enjoy good offices from the party. They depend 
 upon the party for their 'bread. Let them vote any- 
 thing but a clean ticket if they dare. They are 
 watched. They will be branded as renegades and 
 traitors. They shall be held up to the execration of 
 
 all true , and made such an example of as shall 
 
 be a warning to all such deserters in the future. Our 
 ticket is worthy of the hearty support of the undivi- 
 ded party. "Watch the bolters mark them. 
 
 They will be dealt with hereafter as they deserve. A 
 man who will scratch his ticket is unworthy the name 
 
 of . When holding office, they should, as apeed- 
 
 ily as possible, be compelled to vacate for men ' who 
 will stand by the party which feeds them.'" 
 
 Thus were refractory party men whipped into the 
 traces, and so despotic and potential was the strength
 
 STICKING TO PAETT. 347 
 
 and terror of party discipline, that there were few 
 men who dared to face the storm. The foulest com- 
 binations ever concocted in grog-shop conclave, went 
 out to the people endorsed as the regular, clean ticket ; 
 and the blood-hounds of party drill, fed on the drip- 
 pings of party, and expecting more, were unleashed 
 to worry and hunt the elector who supposed the right 
 of suffrage his own. A principle more subversive of 
 all political independence, was never made the shame- 
 less bond of party union. A slavery more humilia- 
 ting and repulsive, never was submitted to by an 
 intelligent and free people. 
 
 The masses little knew of all the means made use 
 of to secure the election of the candidates. Dobbs 
 was not a whit behind Skillott in a wholesale corrup- 
 tion. Ex-convicts from the prison, and keepers of no 
 torious establishments in Oakvale, were put upon the 
 vigilance or challenging committees. Fr,,m the 
 funds collected from the candidates with which to 
 "pay for printing" large sums were carried through 
 out the county and thrown into every bar-room. In 
 Oakvale, for a week before the election, the grogger- 
 ies swarmed with drunkenness. Dobbs and Skillott 
 had engaged them all in their interest, as had the 
 other party, and rum was as free as water. What 
 rum would not purchase, money was depended upon 
 to do. Church influence was invoked. Skillott at- 
 tended every Church in the place, and gave to the 
 Missionary and Bible Society. To temperance men 
 he talked blandly. He had never found time from
 
 348 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 his onerous legal business to make much effort in sc 
 just a cause, but he was a sincere well-wisher, and if 
 elected, he should feel it his duty to see that the laws 
 were administered faithfully. He saw the poor and 
 the countryman. Their wives and families were in- 
 quired after, and they were invited to his office, or to 
 his house for dinner. The Irish vote was courted. 
 Petty office-seekers were all promised assistance in 
 the future. Barrels of beer, and a supply of crackers 
 and cheese, were placed in all the haunts for the 
 thirsty and hungry democracy. Notorious bravadoes 
 and ruffians were chartered to bark and brow-beat. 
 The " Columbian " steamed night and day. It was a 
 notorious " sweat-pit," where voters were made drunk- 
 en by the score. Dobbs and Skillott were found there 
 all night. From the communion at the church, the 
 former went there on the Sabbath and stayed all night. 
 More than thirty-two voters, in one den, were kept 
 drunk over Sunday under lock and key, and during 
 Monday and Monday night ; and Tuesday morning they 
 reeled to the polls, and voted for Skillott and Dobbs. 
 The same game was universal throughout the county. 
 Sober and worthy citizens were brow-beat and chal- 
 lenged by pot-house ruffians, or deterred from the 
 polls by open violence. "With oaths and stenching 
 breaths, drunken men reeled and kissed the Bible as 
 they swore in their votes. Dobbs looked innocently 
 upon every one, for both parties did so, and all was 
 fair in politics. At night the groggeries were jammed 
 with a reeling, cursing, shouting, slavering mass of
 
 STICKING TO PARTY. 349 
 
 yeomanry ; and fightings and hideous 3 ellings filled 
 tne streets until a late hour. The day had. been one 
 of wholesale drunkenness and riot. At the close, 
 when the result \vas learned, the successful candidates 
 
 * 
 
 gathered in the Daily office and talked complacently 
 of their personal popularity, and the corruptions en- 
 tered into to defeat them. The Daily announced the 
 victory in glaring capitals, and called it one of the 
 most overwhelming triumphs of the campaign. The 
 opposite party resorted to the basest means to secure 
 their ends, but the people were incorruptible, and had 
 pronounced against them ! An oyster supper, alias, 
 a drunken jollification, came off at the " Alhambra " 
 in honor of the result. Judge Skillott was carried 
 home drunk. Dobbs managed to attend the covenant 
 meeting on the following day, Saturday, and gave 
 liberally to the missionary cause, sighing with much 
 sanctity as he leaned his head upon his hand. He 
 was a popular man ! He had not mixed any religion 
 or temperance with his politics ! As a member of 
 the executive county committee, he with his col- 
 leagues had secured a handsome suit of clothes, and 
 fell more than ever in love with the principles of the 
 
 great party. 
 
 The regular ticket was elected. Professed temper- 
 ance men and Christians had voted the " clean ticket." 
 The temperance-professing, brandy-drinking hypo- 
 crite was elected clerk, and the favorite of the grog- 
 shop and brothel, judge. The "clean ticket" was 
 elected! The few who murmured at such tickets
 
 350 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 were whistled down as one-idea hot-heads, who would 
 ruin a good cause by dragging it into politics. Tem- 
 perance was a " holy cause," but it was lost the mo- 
 ment its misguided friends forced it into the political 
 arena. 
 
 And Judge Skillott did enforce the law ! The 
 keepers of the lowest groggeries were fined fifty dol- 
 lars each. A negro who had sold whisky in a mis- 
 erable shanty, was severely lectured, fined twenty -five 
 dollars, and " sent up " until paid. The keepers of 
 the Alhambra, the Arland, the Home, etc., were fined 
 three dollars each, and at night the judge got drunk 
 on their liquor ! 
 
 lie was elected on the " dean ticket ! " by those who 
 felt bound to stick to party, and keep the temperance 
 cause out of politics ! They had helped the rum in- 
 terest put one of its most unscrupulous friends upon 
 the Bench. The rumsellers and friends had all thrown 
 party aside in the contest and stood by their cause. 
 The " clean ticket," consistent, party temperance 
 men, had joined with them in carrying rum into pol- 
 itics !
 
 THE SIGNATURE OF THE DEAD.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 POISON IN THE CUP SIGNATURE OF THE DEAD A 
 
 . GUEST NOT INVITED. 
 
 DEEPER and darker gathered the night around 
 Minnie Ilermon ! The desertion and consequent cold 
 treatment of Brayton, had struck down every hope 
 which had cheered her in her sorrows. Scarcely a 
 ray lingered in the gloomy horizon. She did not re- 
 proach Brayton. lu her chamber, with the darkness 
 and her own bitter thoughts, she remembered him. 
 with the strength of a love which their separation had 
 not subdued. A gulf had opened between them, wi- 
 dening every day. Hidden from him and the world, 
 it burned more intensely upon the ruins of the fair 
 fabric it had reared in the inmost heart. As it crum- 
 bled away, the pure shrine sent up a flame whose 
 brightness would go out only with life. She saw 
 "Walter crossing the first fatal circles of temptation. 
 She would have warned him, but she felt that he 
 cared not for her. Her thoughts turned often upon 
 the change in him and his sentiments towards her. 
 She had not changed in her love, she wondered at 
 the change in him. Yet, through all the ill which 
 was to come upon him, Minnie Hermon, with the
 
 354 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 changeless fervor of a true woman's love, was to 
 weep and pray for the object of her heart's first deep 
 idolatry. 
 
 Retribution had followed swift and close upon the 
 steps of Herinon. The dread bondage he had helped 
 to weave around so many, had closed upon himself. 
 He had lifted to his own lips the fatal .chalice he had 
 commended to his neighbors. Such, in a large ma- 
 jority of cases, has been the punishment of those who 
 deal in rum. 
 
 The old man, his hair fast whitening with age and 
 troubles, was a drunkard. One more wholly aban- 
 doned to his cups, had not gone from his tavern. 
 The farther he went, the deeper the depths of degra- 
 dation. He presented the complete and utter wreck 
 of a once intellectual and honorable man. All his 
 manhood had been consumed, and he stalked about 
 his premises, the embodiment of the leprous curse ho 
 had introduced and fostered in Oakvale. His per- 
 sonal appearance did not belie his character and 
 habits. His slouched, greasy looking hat and seedy 
 garments the face bloated and burning with tho 
 consuming hectic of constant dissipation his eye- 
 Jds eaten away, and the balls a revolting red, togeth- 
 er with his ill-temper and listless movements, pre- 
 sented a revolting picture of ruin. 
 
 The Home had changed, as well as its landlord. 
 More fashionable taverns had taken the better cus- 
 tom, and left it but the wrecks of its own making. 
 The sign was weather-beaten, and the posts, rotten at
 
 POISON IN THE CUP. 355 
 
 the ground, were settling over. The boards were off 
 the shed, the doors unhinged, and one end of the 
 feeding-trough split and fallen upon the ground. The 
 pum'p was useless, and grass began to grow thickly, 
 among the stones of the platform. The stoop was 
 rotting, and one end had settled as the wall beneath 
 had crumbled away. Many of the windows were 
 broken, and the whole appearance of the house ex- 
 ternally, was ruinous and desolate. 
 
 With this marked change of circumstances, came 
 a corresponding loss of character and standing. The 
 Home was but the haunt of the lowest grades of the 
 drinking community. It was licensed, for its custo- 
 mers were voters as well as those of the Arland or 
 Alhambra. In its dingy bar-room the sots of Oak- 
 rale lingered to complete the work commenced in its 
 better days. 
 
 Minnie could not escape a portion of the odium 
 which had fallen upon her father. Even among the 
 drinking class, the Home was in bad repute. As its 
 mistress, she suffered with its waning fortunes. De- 
 serted by Brayton, and only known as the daughter 
 of a drunken tavern keeper, the better class of so- 
 ciety scarcely ever troubled themselves with a thought 
 of the lonely girl. The disgrace of her father and 
 the house was not without its effect upon her. 6he 
 felt that she was neglected, perhaps despised, and 
 consequently shunned society. Crimes worse than 
 selling liquor even, had been whispered against Her 
 mon; vices worse than drunkenness were said to hold
 
 356 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 their revels at the Home. Shut mostly within its 
 doors, it was not strange that scandal should fasten a 
 share of the stigma upon Minnie. She had often 
 been seen nights, threading the poorer streets of Oak- 
 vale. Ilad her object been known, the community 
 would have witnessed some of the holiest charities 
 which ever fell unheralded at the hearthsides of the 
 poor and needy. 
 
 "With all this unjust opinion against her, she still 
 clung to her wretched father. He had rewarded her 
 devotion to him, with coarse abuse and Hows! 
 And in that rendezvous of the wretched and vile, her 
 pure spirit lingered like an angel in unbroken dark- 
 ness. 
 
 There were few of the drinking men of Oakvale 
 who had descended more rapidly than Walter Bray- 
 ton's father. He had squandered all his property, and 
 was verging upon the confines of pauperism. He 
 and Walter had quarreled at an early day about the 
 Home, and his drinking habits, and since had had 
 but little intercourse with each other. Still Walter 
 had been careful that his parent did not suffer for any 
 of the necessaries of life. Suddenly, good, or it may 
 be, bad fortune, came unexpectedly to the old man. 
 A bachelor brother in Rhode Island died and left 
 him a handsome little fortune of ten thousand dol- 
 lars, to go, at his death, to Walter.- This was joyous 
 news to old Brayton, as well as to his cronies and the 
 dealers. They judged right as to the strength of his 
 love of d^ink, and the hopelessness of his reformation,
 
 POISON IN THE CUP. 357 
 
 JETalton arid his companions made desperate c/r-i Hons 
 to save the old gentleman, but in vain. HowrH tried 
 with no better success. Walter met with abuse, his 
 father charging him with an itching to linger tlie 
 money before his time. 
 
 Deeper drank Brayton and his companions. Wild- 
 er and more devilish were their revels. Old Bray- 
 ton's money was sown like chaff, for ten thousand 
 dollars seemed to him exhaustless. Pipes were lighted 
 with bank-bills, and scores were treated by the week. 
 .Often dead drunk during these periods, hundreds of 
 dollars were plundered from him by his companions 
 and the more abandoned of the dealers, where the 
 money was spent. Even the Arland and Alhambra 
 were glad to sell liquor to a man worth ten thousand 
 dollars 1 Walter looked upon these things with sor- 
 row and shame, and for a time all his old hatred of 
 the traffic burned up as hotly as ever. He made con- 
 stant efforts to enlist the societies for the reclamation 
 of the old man. Every effort failed, and in six weeks 
 time nearly one half of the ten thousand dollars had 
 been squandered or stolen by the harpies who hung 
 around him. 
 
 Skillott, through the confidence of Walter, had 
 learned all the circumstances of the legacy, and his 
 eyes glistened as schemes for its possession were 
 planned in his mind. It was now wasting, and, should 
 any of it be left, Walter was the last man he would 
 wish to have it. While pushing for the judgeship, 
 he had held out the post of a representative to Con-
 
 358 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 gress to "Walter. Skillott determined to push for the 
 post himself, and the possession of wealth by the vic- 
 tim might foil all his plans. 
 
 Skillott did not visit the Home save late in the eve 
 nings. It was in bad repute, and the demagogue 
 wished to retain the semblance of respectability. 
 Every night, at a late hour, however, he was found at 
 Hermon's. He did not always see Minnie ;but when- 
 ever he could get an opportunity, he assumed unwon- 
 ted grace and essayed to appear devoted in his atten- 
 tions. She shunned him, and recoiled from his honeyed 
 words as from the hiss of a viper, hardly concealing 
 the deep and unconquerable dislike she felt towards 
 the man. An utter stranger to the honorable of the 
 sex, Skillott was a sneering skeptic about their being 
 such among women, and he did not in the least aban- 
 don his base designs against Minnie. He loved her 
 not. Her sharp and scornful repulses to his sickening 
 flatteries, had stung him until he was maddened. 
 Vindictive and withering in his hate against man or 
 woman, as well as fiery and ungovernable in his pas- 
 sions, he seldom commenced his approaches, but what 
 he accomplished the ruin of his victim. Could he 
 grasp Minnie and Walter both in his net, the triumph 
 would be a double one. " He would not be foiled by 
 old Ilennon's daughter," he muttered as he turned 
 across the street on his way to the Home. 
 
 As Skillott entered the hall he met Minnie going 
 out. 
 
 " Ah ! Miss Hermon beg your pardon, but like
 
 POISON IN THE CUP. * 359 
 
 the miller of a summer night, I am constantly drawn 
 to the flame," spoke the lawyer, in his blandest tones, 
 and with a touch of assumed tenderness. With a 
 cold inclination of the head, Minnie stood back for 
 him to pass in, and through the right door to the bar- 
 room. Shutting the street door he still stood with his 
 back against it, and looked close in her face. She 
 recoiled, and asked to be permitted to pass. 
 
 " Do not be thus cold to one who takes a deep in- 
 terest in your welfare. I would be a friend to you, 
 Miss Hermon," continued Skillott, in low tones. 
 There was a strange and thrilling influence in them 
 which sent a chill over his listener. She felt that 
 that burning gaze, peculiar to the man, was fastened 
 upon her, and turned to leave him. 
 
 " No, no, Miss Hermon, you must not leave so. If 
 I have offended, it has been from excess of regard. 
 Surely a lovely girl like yourself would not go into 
 the street at this time of night without a protector." 
 
 " I need none, sir," briefly replied Minnie, as she 
 now stepped to go out of the door which Skillott had 
 moved away from. 
 
 " Nay, sweet girl, but you do. One like you should 
 have one friend. I should be happy to be smiled up- 
 on by one whom an unworthy friend has abandoned." 
 
 " Let me pass, sir. Your language and manner are 
 insulting." 
 
 " Not so hasty, Miss. I think too much of you tc 
 insult you." Then bending closely to Minnie, he 
 
 whispered words which we will not repeat. 
 15
 
 360 ** MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 " You 're a* villain ! Hands off, sir I Coward 
 help ! " 
 
 There was a glancing shadow in the dim light, and 
 Skillott received a blow which felled him to the floor. 
 As the revelers came out of the bar-room, he was 
 found insensible. He was taken up, and after a time 
 came to himself. No one had been seen in the hall, 
 and Skillott, believing that it was Minnie who gave 
 him the blow, stated that he fell as he entered, from 
 catching his toe on the threshold. Minnie had 
 scarcely heard the blow and the fall of Skillott, be- 
 fore she was lifted like a child, and noiselessly borne 
 up the stairs by a strong arm. Minnie felt keenly 
 this gross insult in her own house. It was suggestive 
 of many a bitter thought. 
 
 With a vow of revenge for the blow and the in- 
 sulting repulse, Skillott dismissed the matter from his 
 mind as he noticed the progress of matters in the 
 bar-room. The elder Brayton and some two or three* 
 others were present, and all drunk. At the sugges- 
 tion of Skillott, the others were prevailed upon to 
 leave, under pretense of closing the house. Brayton 
 was too good a customer to be thus turned out, and 
 was left snoring by the fire-place, his chin dropping 
 upon his breast. 
 
 For a long time Skillott and Hermon conversed in 
 whispers across the counter, the latter drunk enough 
 to be a blind tool of the cool-headed lawyer. 
 
 " Brayton is making a complete fool of himself. 
 It is too bad."
 
 POISON IN THE CUP. 361 
 
 " Yes ; lie can't stand it long so." 
 
 " How he wastes money ! " 
 
 " Yes ; it goes like dirt. He will very soon run 
 through it." 
 
 "How much do you s'pose he has left of the 
 legacy ? " 
 
 " Half on't, like enough ; may be more don't 
 know!" 
 
 " Too bad to have him squander it so don't do 
 anybody any good." 
 
 "It's his own." 
 
 " Just so," blandly answered Skillott. " But such 
 men as Jud Lane and Mike Henry are getting more 
 than their share of it." The bait took, and a slight 
 smile crept coldly over Skillott's countenance, as he 
 watched the effects of his words upon Hermon. 
 
 " It would be a kindness, would some trusty friends 
 take charge of his money and keep it for him" The 
 lawyer still watched Hermon keenly, as he assumed 
 a careless tone and air, drumming with his fingers ou 
 the counter. Hermon made no response, and Skillott 
 continued : 
 
 " I'll warrant Jud Lane has taken a good share, 
 and he never has done one-hundredth part as much 
 for Brayton as you have" 
 
 Hermon did not see the sneer that lingered around 
 Skillott's lips as he spoke the last words, but began 
 to be aroused by the crafty words of the Judge. Jud 
 Lane was getting too much of old Brayton's ten 
 thousand dollars ! The judge noted the kindling of
 
 '362 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 the landlord's avarice and continued, forcing a yawn, 
 and still drumming carelessly upon the counter: 
 
 " You would have done the old man a great kind- 
 ness, as well as Walter, if you had always taken his 
 money when he is in one of his drunken sprees, and 
 kept it from those that plunder him." Still no re- 
 sponse from Hermon. 
 
 " Indeed, I have blamed you because you have 
 not. It is not doing as you would be done by." 
 
 "I I ahem ! I have occasionally taken 
 care of money for him. I thought I'd better take 
 it than to have him waste it. He don't take care of 
 his money at all." 
 
 " Eight, Mr. Hermon," and Skillott's eye glittered. 
 "Right. I had thought as judge, of ordering the 
 same thing, but I feared "Walter would not like it. 
 How much have you saved him ? Enough to do him 
 some good when the rest is spent, I hope." 
 
 " Why a about let me see : a quite a sum. 
 It would have all been lost if I hadn't got it laid 
 away for him." 
 
 " Four or five hundred dollars, perhaps ? " and he 
 whistled as he looked leisurely about the room and 
 tapped the tips of his fingers together. 
 
 " Yes about that, I s'pose," replied Hermon, com- 
 pletely won by the careless manner of Skillott. The 
 latter had not lost a single word or expression of the 
 landlord's face. Assuming a confidential air, and 
 drawing closer to Hermon, he continued : 
 
 "Between you and me, Hermon this between
 
 POISON IN THE CUP. 363 
 
 ourselves, you know it has been talked over by a 
 few of old Brayton's friends, and concluded that it is 
 best to devise some plan to save his property. As I 
 am judge, and have his confidence, the whole matter 
 has been entrusted to my arrangement. Knowing 
 that you and he were intimate, we thought it best to 
 ask your assistance. As it is, the ten thousand dol- 
 lars will not last him a year. And then, if he dies, 
 there is another trouble. I would not wish it noised 
 about, for he is a friend of mine ; but it is a sad truth 
 that Walt has got so he steams it, and if the money 
 falls into his hands, it will go the same way that it is 
 now going. So we have concluded that you and I 
 get the old man to put his money into our hands for 
 safe keeping. It is the only way it can be saved ; for 
 otherwise Jud Lane will have it, as sure as fate. Now 
 the plan we propose is this," continued Skillott, in 
 whispers, laying the finger of his right hand carefully 
 in the palm of the left. " We will get him to sign 
 writings, (I've got them here in my pocket,) deeding 
 to us all his property for safe keeping, carrying the 
 impression that it is as security for moneys borrowed. 
 We are then to give him small sums, or ourselves pay 
 his expenses, and keep charge of the money. Thus 
 you see we should have the use of the money as long 
 as he should live, and he could not spend it around 
 town. He could board here, and you could have the 
 pay for his board and grog. I think this a good plan." 
 " Most certainly I do. Jud Lane cannot then plun- 
 der him," and Hermon rubbed his hands at the
 
 364 MENNIE EfcRMON. 
 
 thouglit. That snaky smile again crept around the 
 corners of Skillott's mouth. 
 
 " Now it seems to me we shall not have a better 
 time than to-night. It is necessary for his good that 
 it be done soon the sooner the better. Have you 
 a room where we shall not be interrupted ? " 
 
 " The back chamber." 
 
 " Just so ; that will do. We shall not be interrupt- 
 ed there, probably ? " 
 
 " Not at this time o'night." 
 
 " "We must not be ; because, you see, it is highly 
 important that the thing be nicely managed. Better 
 take pen and ink up there." 
 
 As Ilermon came back, Skillott still stood drumming 
 carelessly upon the counter, and old Brayton sat sno- 
 ring by the hearth. The light burned dimly in the 
 bar-room, and the noise of tramping feet had long 
 since ceased in the street. The windows, only, were 
 heard as they rattled in the fitful gusts which puffed 
 around the Home. 
 
 " Now," said Skillott, '' we must awake him, and 
 arouse him with a glass of brandy, and then persuade 
 him up stairs to bed. Pour out the brandy, and as 
 you lift him up I will hand it to you." 
 
 Ilermon passed around and shook Braytou by the 
 shoulder, awakening him froni his drunken slumber 
 with much difficulty. While he was doing so, Skil- 
 lott emptied the contents of a vial into the brandy, 
 and then handed it to Ilermon, who had just got the 
 dozy drunkard upoi-his feet. He made no objectiona
 
 POISON IN THE CUP. 365 
 
 fco the brandy, and after much coaxing, was persua- 
 ded to let them assist him up to bed. Skillott, before 
 leaving the bar-room, took the precaution to lock the 
 doors. On reaching the chamber, Skillott commenced, 
 in blandest tones, to induce the drunken man to sign 
 the paper presented to him. The man stared vacantly 
 as the pen was put into his hand, with the statement 
 that the paper was a receipt for money they had bor- 
 rowed of him, which they now wished to pay him. 
 Mechanically, Brayton put his hand where directed, 
 but was evidently too drunk to understand what he 
 was about, or to write his name alone. A gust of 
 wind slammed the window blind furiously, startling 
 both parties abruptly. Skillott moved to the window, 
 but on Hermon assuring him that the window could 
 not be reached save from the ground, he fastened the 
 blinds and returned to the drunken man. As the 
 hand was again placed upon the paper, Brayton ut- 
 tered a cry of pain, and doubled convulsively in his 
 chair. There was a slight paleness around Skillott's 
 mouth, and Hermon looked on with astonishment. 
 
 " What was in your brandy ? " asked the Judge, 
 with his eye fastened keenly upon the landlord. 
 
 " Nothing. Why do you ask ? " answered Hermon 
 with a troubled countenance. 
 
 " It is queer that he should have convulsions. Is 
 he subject to them?" 
 
 " Not that I ever knew of." 
 
 " Then I fear he is going to have the delirium-tre- 
 mens. He will arouse the whole neighborhood, and
 
 366 MINNIE IIEKMON. 
 
 probably die before the property is safe where Walt 
 cannot spend it." 
 
 " Coire, Brayton, sign the receipt ; I must go 
 home." Again the pen was put into the man's hand, 
 but his agony was now evidently excruciating. He 
 writhed in convulsions, doubling down on his stom- 
 ach, and howling in agony. 
 
 "This must not be ; he will injure himself, 3 ' said 
 Skillott. " We must hold him on the bed, and keep 
 the paroxysms down until he is quiet. If he shrieks 
 it will make him worse. Take hold of his feet 
 quick." 
 
 As the two tossed Brayton upon the bed, he strug- 
 gled and shrieked until Skillott's blood ran cold. 
 But it was too late to retreat. He threw himself upon 
 Brayton, and told Hermon to put the pillow over his 
 head and hold it down. " It would keep him from, 
 exhausting himself." 
 
 Hermon did as ordered, but the united strength of 
 the two could not hold Brayton still. With a howl 
 of pain, he hurled them upon the floor and sprang 
 into the middle of the room, writhing and doubling, 
 and the froth bubbling from the mouth. lie stared 
 wildly at Skillott and Hermon. 
 
 " In God's name, what's the matter of me. Call 
 a doctor quick, or I can't live. O dear merciful 
 God ! there is fire in my bowels. Water ! quick ! for 
 God's sake WATER I " 
 
 He shrieked again as the paroxysm took him. 
 With desperate energy Skillott leaped upon him, and
 
 POISON m THE CUP. 367 
 
 thrust his handkerchief into his mouth, and with al- 
 most superhuman strength, again threw him' on the 
 bed. The pillow was again held down upon Brayton's 
 %ce ; Skillott pressed upon him with all his strength. 
 
 Weaker grew the man, and less violent his convul- 
 sions. Half-smothered shrieks, and prayers, and cries 
 for breath and water, came from under the pillow, 
 even with Hermon's weight upon it. A fierce, con- 
 vulsive shiver ran over the trunk and limbs ; they 
 slowly straightened out as Skillott relaxed his grasp ; 
 the deep chest heaved fearfully for breath, and Bray- 
 ton lay still. 
 
 " Quick, now, before the paroxysm comes on again 
 the pen and light." 
 
 Hermon removed the pillow and handed them, as 
 ordered. Skillott had raised Brayton to a sitting po- 
 sition. 
 
 " Here, Hermon, let him lean upon you ; he is weak 
 after such fits. Come, Brayton, sign the papers, and 
 then you can sleep. Ah ! I see ; your hand trembles. 
 Let me aid you." 
 
 Skillott placed his hand upon Bray ton's, and guided 
 the fingers while they traced "Gerald Brayton" 
 
 " There," said Skillott, " we will not trouble you 
 more you can lie down," and the Judge laid Bray- 
 ton carefully back upon the pillow. 
 
 " Horrible distemper that ddirium-tremens. He 
 needs rest and quiet. Come out right in the morn- 
 ing, I guess. Well enough to call in early, but would 
 not disturb him during the night. '
 
 368 - MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 Covering Bray ton with the quilts, the two went 
 down. 
 
 The dead was alone ! Could the countenance of the 
 corpse have been seen as it sat on the bed, and by the 
 aid of the living traced its signature ; the glassy eyes 
 protruding with dying agony, and glaring upon va- 
 cancy ; the distorted features, and the mouth foaming, 
 with here and there flecks of blood ; the close-shut 
 teeth, the throat and bosom bare as it had been 
 stripped in the scuffle, and the hair clammy and mat- 
 ted on the damp and ghastly the picture of all that 
 is horrible in a death of keenest agony, would have 
 been presented. 
 
 As Hermon turned the key in the chamber door, 
 the slamming of the blinds and the increasing wind 
 alone disturbed the silence of the chamber. Swiftly 
 Skillott sped along the deserted streets to his home. 
 
 Two hours later, and the window in the chamber 
 where tho struggle had been, was carefully raised, 
 and a dark shadow, undefined in the dim starlight, 
 glided into the room and pulled a small, dark lantern 
 from a loose robe which he wore around him. Slowly 
 and silently he peered towards the bed, and then step- 
 ped noiselessly to the head of it. He leaned down 
 and looked closely into the face of the corpse. He 
 lifted the lamp still nearer, and laid the back of hia 
 hand against the cheek. He recoiled at the touch ; 
 but again and again, and still more searchingly looked 
 down into the ghastly features, thrusting his hand into 
 the bosom to feel the heart. He then lifted the pil-
 
 POISON IN THE CUP. 369 
 
 low and turned it over. It was wet with a slimy 
 froth, and streaked with blood. He seemed to come 
 to some satisfactory conclusion about the matter, and 
 dropping the hand which he had lifted from the quilt, 
 stood erect. There was a dark glitter in his eye, and 
 a paleness around his sternly closed mouth. A new 
 thought seemed to occupy his attention, and he glided 
 to the door, but found it locked. With a key from 
 his own pocket he unlocked it, and after listening, 
 passed down and into the bar-room. In the excite- 
 ment of the time, Hermon had set the glass from 
 which Brayton drank back upon the counter, and 
 forgotten to rinse and put it in the usual place. It 
 now stood where he left it. The Hermit, for it was 
 he, took it in his hand, and after smelling it closely, 
 looked steadily into the bottom. As he stirred the 
 strange-looking sediment with his fore-finger, he ex- 
 claimed with low, yet bitter energy, " Oh ! ho ! dear 
 friends. Poison in the cup, indeed ! And the mur- 
 derers are not all hung yet ! " He stood a moment in 
 thought, and then carefully securing the glass, rec'n- 
 tered the hall and disappeared up the stairs. The 
 key was turned in the door of the back chamber, and 
 the Hermit was again alone with the dead.
 
 CHAPTEE XXYIII. 
 
 TWO MORNING CALLS A LIVE MAN FOB A DEAD ONE. 
 
 DAYLIGHT had scarcely dawned, when there was a 
 loud rap at Skillott's door. Again and again it was 
 repeated, each successive time with increased energy. 
 It was an unwelcome sound, and for a time he feigned 
 slumber. Guilt is ever fearful, and trembles at the 
 sound of every footfall. 
 
 As the noise increased, Skillott threw on his morn- 
 ing gown and opened the door, and somewhat bluntly 
 demanded the cause of the interruption. He stared 
 as he saw Hermon standing before him, but it was 
 momentary. As blandly as usual, after affecting a 
 yawn, he inquired what was wanting at so early an 
 htmr. 
 
 Hermon was the picture of embarrassment. His 
 flame-red face was haggard, his manner stealthy and 
 uneasy, and his eye restless. Turning his eye up the 
 street to assure himself that he was unobserved, he 
 darted through the half-opened door, and closed it as 
 he entered. Placing his back against it, he stood 
 looking Skillott beseechingly in the face. 
 
 " Why, man, what is the matter what is want- 
 ing ? " again asked Skillott, with a well-assumed ail 
 of fretfulness at so unceremonious an interruption.
 
 TWO MORNING CALLS. 371 
 
 "Brayton is dead! " whispered Hermon, in a husky- 
 voice, after looking around to see if no one but them- 
 selves was in the hall. 
 
 " Ah ! indeed ! Died last night, eh ? " 
 
 " Found him dead before daylight this morning. 
 The body was cold," and a shudder crept over the 
 hardened landlord. 
 
 " That fit of tremenSj then, must have finished the 
 old man." 
 
 "Are you sure are you sure, Skillott, that he died 
 of the tremens?" eagerly asked Hermon in an ap- 
 pealing tone. 
 
 " Why, how else could he have died ? A man of 
 his age cannot drink as hard as he did, and stand it 
 long, Mr. Hermon." 
 
 There yet remained something upon Hermon's 
 mind, and he lingered. Skillott made a gesture of 
 impatience, and suggested that, as the matter did not 
 concern him, he had better send for Walter or the 
 coroner. 
 
 " But," continued Hermon, with an air of abstrac- 
 tion, "s'posing they should attempt to show he didn't 
 die of the tremens j what do you s'pose would come 
 of it?" 
 
 " Nonsense, man ; one would suppose your liquor 
 killed him, and that you expected to be hung for it, 
 from your manner." 
 
 A slight shudder again crept over Hermon, and 
 the sweat stood out in drops upon his forehead and 
 upper lip. Skillott grew confident, as the drift of the
 
 372 MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 former's fears became apparent, and as quickly formed 
 his plan with which to hold the landlord hereafter. 
 
 " But liquor would not poison a man, you know,'' 
 placing a strange emphasis upon the word. 
 
 " You know best whether there was any poison in 
 the liquor ; I saw you give it to him." 
 
 " But you told me to give him the brandy." 
 
 " But I did not suppose it was poisoned. It cer- 
 tainly was not ? " Hermon started at the question. 
 
 " You know I have enemies, Skillott, and as ho 
 died in my house, they might say unpleasant things, 
 you know ; and besides, his signing over his property 
 to you and me wouldn't help the matter." 
 
 " O, I'll see to that matter ; the property shall not 
 injure you." There was a smile lurking around the 
 mouth of the Judge as he gave the assurance. 
 
 "As to that matter, it would injure you as well as 
 me, both having an interest in it." 
 
 " Between you and me, Hermon," replied Skillott, 
 " I feared the man was on his last legs, and knowing 
 that you had many and bitter enemies who would 
 make a handle of his death in your house, I thought 
 it best, on the whole, to have the conveyance made out 
 in my name. There are not many who have knowl 
 edge of the fact ; but the truth is, I have lent old 
 Brayton a good deal of money within a few years 
 past. It would be but right, you know, that I should 
 make sure of what he had left." 
 
 " You you don't mean to say that I am not to 
 have a share to have charge of the property ! "
 
 TWO MOKNING CALLS. 3V3 
 
 " Precisely," blandly answered the Judge. "That 
 is best, you know, until the storm about his dying in 
 your house blows over." 
 
 " You didn't say anything last night about his 
 owing you." 
 
 " Nor did I give him that last drink" whispered 
 Skillott, a slight sneer creeping across the upper lip. 
 
 " But you told me to give it to him," replied the 
 landlord, deprecatingly. 
 
 "I did not tell you to put poison in the glass, 
 though ! " 
 
 Hermon fairly jumped, a more ominous paleness 
 spreading over his countenance. He stood a moment, 
 and some of his old spirit came to his aid. 
 
 "Neither did I, sir, as perhaps others can testify," 
 he retorted with considerable energy and meaning, 
 pulling a paper from his side pocket and thrusting it 
 into Skillott's palm. He watched the Judge as the 
 latter traced the contents. The usual sneer passed 
 off his features as he read, and he drew his under lip 
 thoughtfully between his teeth. Hermon was not so 
 far broken down intellectually, as not to mark the 
 change in Skillott's manner. The note ran thus : 
 
 " I have drinked my last at the Home. There was 
 poison in the cup, and I died by violence ! The dead 
 sign no papers? Old Brayton is dead, but the mur- 
 derers are not hung yet ! 
 
 " A. GUEST NOT INVITED."
 
 374 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 
 
 "And you thought to frighten me by penning such 
 stuff as this," sneered the Judge as he finally lifted 
 his eyes from the paper. 
 
 " It's false I had no more to do with penning it 
 than you did," answered Hermon with spirit. 
 
 " Where did it come from, then '? I should like to 
 know ! " 
 
 " I found it in the dead man's fingers ! " 
 
 " The devil ! How could that be ? " bluntly asked 
 the Judge, without the usual sneer, again and more 
 tightly drawing his under lip between his teeth, and 
 resting his hand upon a chair, his gaze still fastened 
 upon the paper. 
 
 " You can tell as well as I," doggedly answered the 
 landlord, regaining confidence, as he noticed the eifect 
 of the note upon Skillott. 
 
 "The dead can't write," mused the Judge, looking 
 long and closely still upon the paper. 
 
 " But he might not have been dead when we left 
 him. The pen and ink were left, you know." 
 
 " It is strange, strange," continued Skillott, with 
 marked uneasiness in his features. 
 
 After leaving Brayton, on the previous evening, 
 Hermon had become disturbed in his mind about his 
 appearance. It did not seem to him like the delirium- 
 tremens. He was troubled with the thought of hia 
 death in his house, and before daylight, lighted his 
 candle and entered the chamber. Brayton lay as 
 they had left him, save one hand, which was acmsa 
 the breast. The landlord listened to catch the sound
 
 TWO MORNING CALLS. 375 
 
 oi his breathing ; but all was still. -With a quicker 
 pulse he then stepped to the bedside and let the light 
 fall upon the face. It was ghastly, distorted, horri- 
 ble ! He placed his fingers upon Brayton's. A shud 
 der crept from the dead over the living, and Hermon 
 drew back. At that moment his eye rested upon the 
 paper in the dead man's fingers which he carried to 
 Skillott. Hermon left the room with a trembling 
 step, and immediately sought the glass which he had 
 left on the counter, but it was gone. At early light 
 he had hurried to Skillott's for advice. 
 
 " Humph ! This does look a little squally for yon, 
 friend Hermon, it cannot be denied. This is not 
 Brayton's hand-writing. You have enemies in the 
 village, and some of them might have been eaves- 
 dropping last night. 
 
 " But the door was locked, and the key in my owi: 
 pocket. How could any one have got into the 
 chamber ? " 
 
 With all his attempt to appear careless and only so- 
 licitous for Hermon's case, Skillott was troubled. 
 That paper in the dead man's hand the contents 
 and the fact stated by Hermon that the glass was mis- 
 sing, had an ugly look. It was for his interest to as- 
 sist Hermon so far as was safe. If worst came to 
 worst, he had already determined to turn the whole 
 tide of circumstances against Hermon, and sacrifice 
 him to save himself. It was clear to him that an un- 
 seen enemy was around, and he felt that undefinable 
 sense of dread which a person experiences when ex-
 
 3Y6 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 pecting a blow in the dark. At last a thought 
 his attention, and he entered his library and com- 
 menced hunting among some loose papers. He came 
 to one, and for some moments compared the writing 
 upon it, with that on the note handed him by Her- 
 mon. He had evidently found a clue. The paper 
 hunted up by Skillott was a notice of a temper- 
 ance meeting, written by the Hermit. There was 
 something in this knowledge besides the mystery of 
 the affair, to give Skillott serious thoughts. The Her- 
 mit was dreaded by all the Judge's class. If that 
 everywhere-present, and eagle-eyed individual had 
 obtained any knowledge of the real state of things, 
 he was an enemy to be dreaded. Skillott's counte- 
 nance was pale, as he continued to compare papers ; 
 but he shut his teeth harshly together, and a fiend- 
 ish light gleamed in his dark eye. The stakes were 
 increasing, and the play was becoming extremely haz- 
 ardous. 
 
 There was another early call in Oakvale. Doctor 
 Howard was awakened from a deep slumber by a sin- 
 gle rap upon his door. It was familiar, for no other 
 was ever given in the same manner, and he was not 
 surprised when he found the Hermit standing upon 
 the piazza, closely muffled in his long robe. 
 
 " Who is sick now, my friend," inquired the Doc- 
 tor, yawning and rubbing his eyes. 
 
 " Nobody sick dead ! " 
 
 " Indeed ! who's dead, may I ask \ " 
 
 "Gerald Brayton."
 
 TWO MORNING CALLS. 377 
 
 " The old man dead ? I feared his habits would 
 destroy him." 
 
 " Habits did not kill him. Poisoned ! " 
 
 " What ! Brayton poisoned ! How do you know 
 that?" 
 
 "See it done know it! " 
 
 "Then he has committed suicide ! " 
 
 " No. Others committed murder ! " 
 
 "Impossible! Who would wish to poison Gerald 
 Brayton ? He was his own worst enemy." 
 
 " Dont know who wished to ; know they did. That's 
 enough." 
 
 "And you saw this ! " 
 
 " I did. But did not suppose there was poison in 
 the cup until afterwards, or I could have saved him. 
 Thought he had the tremens" 
 
 " But this is a serious matter. What evidence have 
 you that he was poisoned, more than your eyes be- 
 held ? " 
 
 The Hermit carefully drew a glass from his inner 
 side-pocket, tightly bound over the top with buck- 
 skin and strings. Untying the latter, he handed the 
 glass to the Doctor. 
 
 " There ! look at that. He drank out of that. A 
 vial was emptied into, it first." 
 
 Howard's interest was now aroused, and with tho 
 Hermit he entered his oflice. 
 
 "Poison ! sure enough," he exclaimed, after a care- 
 ful examination, " and of the most deadly kind." 
 
 " S'posed so," was the brief response of the Hermit.
 
 378 MINNIE HERilON. 
 
 " But, in God's na.ne, my friend, who gave Bray 
 ton from this cup to drink, and why ? " 
 
 " Know who ; cant tell why. Guess, though." 
 
 " This is horrible. What must be done ? Who 
 were the parties, and where was it done?" 
 
 "'Twas more horrible to see. They must Jiang. 
 Parties well known. Done at the Home. Ques- 
 tions all answered." 
 
 " What do you say ! at Herman's ? " 
 
 " Just said so." 
 
 " But we must know who there are in our midst 
 who would do such things." 
 
 " Know soon enough. Give me the glass." 
 
 Howard mechanically obeyed, being familiar with 
 the ways of the eccentric individual before him. If 
 he was scenting the footsteps of wrong, the Doctor 
 knew that he would be as wary and untiring as a 
 blood-hound. As the Hermit took the glass and 
 again carefully tied the buckskin over the top, he 
 turned to go. 
 
 " When shall I see you again ? " anxiously inquired 
 Howard. 
 
 " To-night. Look at the glasses in Herman's bar ! " 
 The Hermit turned on his heel, and strode down the 
 walk with more energy even than was customarv 
 for him. Not until he was gone, did his last words 
 come with their full meaning to the understanding of 
 the Doctor. 
 
 Circumstances proved most unexpectedly favorable 
 to the plans of parties more directly interested in the
 
 TWO MORNING CALLS. 379 
 
 Brayton affair. Skillott had managed the matter cun- 
 ningly, and by ten o'clock, through the daily paper 
 and on busy tongues, it was circulated that Braytot 
 had died the night before at the Home, after a pro- 
 tracted debauch, of delirium-tremens. Such a result 
 was not looked upon with surprise. 
 
 Walter Brayton was absent from Oakvale, and as 
 a friend of him and his father, Skillott volunteered to 
 take charge of the investigation, and of the burial of 
 the corpse. The coroner's inquest was brief. A 
 number of persons testified to the deep drunkenness 
 of Brayton on the evening before his death, while 
 Skillott and Hermon testified directly to the manner 
 of his death. The former stated that he had been 
 called in to assist during the parox} T sms. The jury 
 pronounced a verdict of "Death by visitation of Prov- 
 idence ! " 
 
 Howard had been called away to attend a sick pa- 
 tient, soon after his interview with the Hermit. The 
 patient died after a severe and protracted struggle, 
 detaining the doctor until a late hour in the afternoon. 
 As soon as possible he returned home, feeling confi- 
 dent, however, that the Hermit would watch the pro- 
 ceedings. 
 
 Turning his horse loose into the yard, he entered 
 the house to snatch a mouthful, and found the follow- 
 ing characteristic note : 
 
 " Doctor, the murderers have planned to put their 
 poison under ground. Brayton will be buried before
 
 380 MINNIE IIEKMON. 
 
 night, and dug up afterwards^ and hidden. Let him 
 be buried. We will attend the night party. Speak 
 not a word. HEKMTT." 
 
 In deep thought, Howard passed over to the Home, 
 where a large number were still assembled, many of 
 them disgustingly drunk. Sure enough, the prepa- 
 rations for the burial of the corpse were in an ad- 
 vanced state. It was thought that the body had bet- 
 ter not be kept long unburied ! 
 
 Howard asked to see the corpse. "With a look at 
 Skillott, after some hesitation, Hermon led him to the 
 chamber. Howard was immediately satisfied that 
 Brayton did not die of the drunkard's madness. His 
 experienced eye detected the unmistakable footprints 
 of a more fatal agency, plainly written in the hue of 
 the flesh. He noticed the marks of the scuffle upon 
 the floor, and turned away. Hermon had been watch 
 ing his eye, and grew agitated as it rested upon him. 
 But for the testimony already revealed to him by 
 the Hermit, Howard would have pronounced the 
 death one of strangulation. 
 
 While they were standing in the room, the sexton 
 came for the corpse. Hermon was repulsively offi- 
 cious, as rumsellers usually are when at the funeral 
 of any of their victims. As they all emerged into 
 the street, Howard balanced over the counter and 
 snatched one of the glasses from the sink and thrust 
 it into his side-pocket. As he, too, went out, the 
 crowd were following the corpse to the burial ground
 
 TWO MORNING CALLS. 381 
 
 Upon an awning-post of one of the main streets, 
 the following notice attracted his attention : 
 
 " BRAYTON WAS MURDERED! There was poison in 
 the cup. Those who gave it to him are superintend- 
 ing his funeral. They expect that the grave will 
 cover their guilt. 
 
 "A GUEST NOT INVITED." 
 
 Howard was startled at the boldness of this act. 
 Ere others became aware of the charge, the funeral 
 was over, and night had set in. But the news of the 
 placards went like lightning, and became the subject 
 of intense talk. Most of the people believed that 
 Skillott, from his standing, and the straightforward 
 testimony at the inquest, was utterly incapable of such 
 a crime. And besides, there could be no motive for its 
 commission. The Judge was careful to give currency 
 to the belief that the placard had been posted by some 
 personal enemy. 
 
 Late in the evening the Hermit again called at 
 Howard's office. In his usual brief- style he stated 
 what he had learned during the day. Skillott had 
 become convinced that some one had seen, or become 
 acquainted with the facts of Brayton's death. It was 
 evident to Skillott that the Hermit was in the matter ; 
 and knowing the untiring disposition of that individ- 
 ual, he felt that prompt and thorough measures must 
 be taken. It had been arranged that the body of 
 Brayton should be taken up and sunk in the river,
 
 382 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 and tlie story started that it had been stolen by the 
 doctors. The Hermit would not reveal how he had 
 acquired the information, but Howard relied upon it. 
 
 " We must attend the party to-night," briefly and 
 sternly he continued, "' and you will see who put poi- 
 son in the cup. I will call at the right time. Be 
 ready." 
 
 The night was dark and stormy. The sky was dense- 
 ly overcast with heavy clouds. A cold, drizzling rain 
 had commenced falling about nine o'clock, melting 
 away the thin snow which had fallen the night previ- 
 ous, making the darkness deep and impenetrable. 
 
 The pulse-beat of the busy throng had ceased to 
 throb in the streets of Oakvale ; but the rain swept 
 fiercely down the streets and around the corners. 
 The water running from the eave-gutters, and the 
 creaking of the signs as they swayed in the wind, 
 were the only sounds which mingled with the fitful 
 violence of the storm. 
 
 While the town-clock was slowly chiming the hour 
 of midnight, two persons, deeply muffled, carrying a 
 shovel and a dark lantern each, turned off from the 
 main street, and through a narrow lane pursued their 
 way in silence out of the village. As they cleared 
 the settled portions, they struck into the fields, and as 
 fast as possible pushed on against the driving storm. 
 Coming to the bank of the river, they turned to the 
 right and followed it up to the burial ground and en- 
 tered. Slowly they hunted among the graves, stop- 
 ping H-hen they came to that of Brayton. After lis-
 
 TWO MORNING CALLS. 383 
 
 tening a moment, the lamps were hidden and both 
 commenced with their shovels to throw out the fresh 
 earth. They were both strong men, and the coffin 
 was soon reached. The lid had been but slightly fas- 
 tened, and readily gave way to an energetic pull at 
 the edges. A cold shudder crept from the corpse 
 along the nerves of the living as One of the diggers 
 felt for the face. There was a moment's hesitation, 
 and the hook which had been provided was thrust 
 quickly under the chin. Both took hold of the rope, 
 and with united strength pulled the body out upon 
 the grass. Again they listened, but there was no 
 sound save the steadily beating storm. A dark blank- 
 et had been provided, in which the body was closely 
 rolled, and a rope fastened around the feet. The lat- 
 ter, after much difficulty, were drawn closely to the 
 head, and the rope passed under the arms. With a 
 rail which had been brought from the fence, the body 
 was raised upon their shoulders and carried towards 
 the river, upon the bank of which they left it, and 
 returned to fill the grave and get their lamps and tools. 
 Others than the grave-robbers had been witnesses 
 of the act. Closely hidden near by, were Howard 
 and the Hermit. For two hours they had remained 
 in the storm, their garments wet through and through. 
 They had obtained a full view of the countenances 
 of the diggers, as one of the lamps had been held 
 a moment above the grave. As the body was borne 
 off, the two followed closely, and barely escaped a 
 
 contest with the diggers as they returned to the grave. 
 16
 
 384 MTNTHE 
 
 is onr . time," whispered the Hermit, as he 
 laid his hand on Howard's arm. " Lift." 
 
 They then put their own shoulders under the rail, 
 and as swiftly as possible carried the body to the 
 fence. Leaving Howard in charge of it, the Hermit 
 returned to the spot where it was first left, to await 
 the return of the Diggers. 
 
 The grave was soon filled, and the diggers returned 
 to the bank where they had left the corpse, design 
 ing to fasten a heavy stone to it and sink it in the 
 river. They looked some time for the body at the 
 point where they supposed they had left it. 
 
 " Skillott, Skillott," said one of the parties in a lo'w 
 voice, as he stumbled against the Hermit, " I have 
 found it ! " 
 
 " How in the d - 1 did /t come out there ? 1 
 thought we left it just by this little knoll." 
 
 " "We didn't steer right in the dark. But where in 
 the world is the rail ? " 
 
 " Did you leave it in the rope ? " 
 
 " Yes; but it aint there now." 
 
 " It must be there if you left it there," and the one 
 addressed as Skillott came up. 
 
 "Good God! ifswwm!" sharply uttered the first 
 speaker, jumping to his feet as though he had clutched 
 a viper. 
 
 " You be - , Hermon 1 "What are you fright- 
 ened at?" 
 
 " See, yourself 1 " answered the trembling landlord, 
 for it was him.
 
 TWO MOKNLNG CALLS. 385 
 
 Skillott unhesitatingly stooped and touched the 
 body. He started slightly as his hand encountered 
 the long hair, but it was wet and cold. He had for- 
 gotten that the body had been wrapped in a blanket. 
 Passing his hand up over the face, he found a thick, 
 bushy beard ; but the face was cold and wet as the 
 hair. Somewhat excited and bewildered, he laid his 
 hand upon the bosom ; still more amazed as he found 
 buttons there. The next instant his fingers were in 
 the vice-like grasp of a living hand ! 
 
 " H 1 and furies ! " he almost howled as he 
 snatched his own away. " This is no dead man, 01 
 else that hand was yours, Hermon. No fooling with 
 me ! " 
 
 " I havn't touched you," answered the trembling 
 landlord, as he took a step or two back. 
 
 Skillott drew his lamp from his bosom, and placing 
 it before his own features, let the light shine down 
 before him. The spectacle presented was one to 
 startle bolder men than Skillott. On the ground, 
 stretched at full length, his eye glittering in the dull 
 lamplight, and his long hair and beard wet with the 
 storm, was the Hermit. He gave that peculiar 
 chuckle as h.e was revealed to the diggers. 
 
 " Priest or devil, take that ! Your foul carrion shall 
 feed the fishes too ! " 
 
 Lightly the Hermit sprang from his position, the 
 knife which Skillott had aimed at his breast sticking 
 in the turf where he had lain. A sneering ha! ha! 
 answered the fierce curses of the baffled digger. The
 
 386 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 latter hurled the knife fiercely in the direction of the 
 voice ; but it only clinked against a tomb-stone which 
 it struck beyond, and again provoked that sneering 
 laugh. There was then a flash and a report, and a 
 ball went whistling past his head. 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! poison the living and rob the dead ! 
 Judge Sk ; llott and John Hermon ! the murderers are 
 not all hung yet," was echoed back from a different 
 direction than where the shot was fired. 
 
 All parties now stood silent in the impenetrable 
 darkness. With half-smothered curses and still more 
 devilish plans for meeting the new danger and .at 
 the same time securing revenge, Skillott took Hermon 
 by the arm, and the two moved carefully towards the 
 road. As they were picking their way along by the 
 side of the fence near the corner of the grounds, they 
 were again startled by the unwelcome guest. 
 
 " Ho 1 ho ! gentlemen diggers ! Why not take 
 along the body ? A chemical analysis might show 
 \t\\o put poison in the cup ! ha, ha ! " 
 
 The sounds were close to the ear, and Skillott struck 
 fiercely towards them, but the blow fell upon the 
 fence. The act was again answered by that sneering 
 laugh. 
 
 The idea of an analysis of the stomach of Brayton 
 fixed more deeply the dark purpose of Skillott. He 
 was not a man to hesitate when such dangers thick- 
 ened around him. Against the remonstrance of 
 Hermon, he called at Doctor Howard's as he entered 
 the village, and disguising his voice, inquired for the
 
 TWO MORNING CALLS. 387 
 
 Doctor. Mrs. Howard answered that he had been 
 called away in the evening, and had not returned. 
 Skillott turned away, passed stealthily around the 
 house to the barn, and tossed the shovel and the cord 
 and hook, together with the lanterns, into the loft 
 over the shed. An hour later, and he was in his 
 office ; but his sleepless eye gleamed with unwonted 
 brilliancy, and his inind was busy perfecting iiis dark 
 schemes.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE WICKED PLOT THE WICKED TRIOALPH, 
 
 EARLY on the morning succeeding the scenes poj- 
 traycd in the last chapter, the following placard ap- 
 peared in the streets : 
 
 " The grave robbers abont 1 Gerald Brayton's 
 body stolen last night. Order loving citizens are re- 
 quested to meet at the Town Hall at nine o'clock, to 
 take measures to protect our graves from desecration. 
 
 "By ORDER." 
 
 The excitement was intense. For two years past 
 a number of occurrences of the same kind had aroused 
 the community to the deepest exasperation. 
 
 An hour before the time appointed in the call, the 
 Hall was crowded. The excited and indignant pop- 
 ulace gave ominous indications that summary meas- 
 ures would be taken, should the person or persons 
 guilty of the outrage be ferreted out. A low rush 
 of angry muttering swept over that sea of heads. 
 At a late hour, Judge Skillott, his countenance stern 
 and thoughtful, entered the room, and in an unas- 
 suming manner wedged through the crowd and took
 
 THE WICKED PLOT. 389 
 
 his seat. The meeting was called to order and the 
 Judge unanimously appointed chairman of the meet- 
 ing. His remarks on taking the chair were calm, and 
 deprecatory of violent measures. He did not wonder 
 at the high state of feeling in the community. They 
 had all been deeply injured in their feelings. Those 
 we loved were stolen from the graves where their 
 friends had laid them. A spot sacred in the affec- 
 tions of all who had lost kindred, had been repeatedly 
 desecrated by the sacrilegious violence of grave rob- 
 bers. It was to be regretted that such things should 
 occur in the community. Justice to themselves, their 
 reputation abroad, and to the graves of their dead, 
 demanded that measures should be taken to put a stop 
 to similar outrages. 
 
 As Skillott took his seat, Dr. Howard entered and 
 stood in the passage in front. Skillott bent his stern 
 gaze full upon that individual, and with so direct and 
 meaning an expression, that the attention of the whole 
 audience was drawn to the doctor. The latter was 
 taken by surprise, and reddened at the insolent bold- 
 ness of the man whom he had last seen under such 
 peculiar circumstances. The Judge turned away, as 
 much as to say, " Look to that man." And so thought 
 the fickle crowd. Some of the sickly pallor passed 
 away from the chairman's face, as he saw his plan for 
 directing public attention upon the wrong scent work- 
 ing so favorably. 
 
 After a number of citizens had made remarks to 
 the meeting, the chairman was called upon to give
 
 390 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 some advice in the matter. He complied with the 
 request with well-assumed reluctance. He stated 
 what facts had come to his knowledge through oth- 
 ers. He thought a committee should be appointed to 
 make investigations, and report in the evening at that 
 place. More facts than had yet come to light might 
 probably be elicited. With prompt and energetic 
 measures the body might be found. He hoped so, 
 for Gerald Bray ton was a friend whom he bad cher- 
 ished with great regard. The plan was adopted, and 
 Skillott, after much urging, placed at the head of the 
 committee of investigation. 
 
 > Amazed at what he had seen, Doctor Howard had 
 stood during the proceedings, lost in thought. As the 
 meeting dispersed, he looked around for some one 
 whom he had expected to see present, but was disap- 
 pointed. As he turned he encountered the keen, 
 half-sneering gaze of Skillott. There was a glitter of 
 some unknown triumph in that restless eye. 
 
 " Now," said Skillott, as the committee prepared to 
 proceed in their investigation, " you will remember 
 that the soil in the burial ground is of a peculiar red, 
 sticky kind. If we bear this in mind it may lead to 
 some developments as to the robbers. They must 
 have had tools, and have worn boots or shoes." 
 
 Having a patient to call upon, Howard left the vil- 
 lage as the committee commenced their search. 
 
 The soil in the burial ground was soft and very ad- 
 hesive from the effects of the thaw. The tracks of 
 manr individuals were plainly marked, especially
 
 THE WICKED PLOT. 391 
 
 around the grave where Brayton had been buried. 
 From there they were traced to the bank of the river, 
 then down to the fence, and thence across the field 
 to the edge of the village. There were evidently 
 the tracks of two persons from the fence to the road, 
 following each other. 
 
 " Why, if it were possible," suggested one of tho 
 citizens, " I should say that Doctor Howard had been 
 here, or some boy. No man has so small a foot." 
 Skillott said nothing. 
 
 The knife (a spring dirk) was found by a grave 
 stone, and handed to the Judge. No other evidences 
 were found to lead to a knowledge of the robbers. 
 The grave was opened and the coffin found empty. 
 
 "Now, friends," said the judge, "it is quite certain 
 that the body was taken across the field to the road 
 and to the village. I should be sorry to find it in the 
 possession of any of our own citizens. Yet the search 
 must be thoroughly made." 
 
 The party again returned towards the village, close- 
 ly scrutinizing every mark which might give them a 
 clue to the course of the robbers. Arriving at Doc- 
 tor Howard's residence, a halt was made. 
 
 " My friends," again remarked Skillott, " I regret 
 that this unpleasant duty has fallen upon us. The 
 innocent should not suffer unjust imputations. Here 
 is the residence of Doctor Howard. He is a personal 
 friend of mine, and I am anxious to have him cleared 
 from all suspicion of having a hand in this sad affair. 
 At the meeting this morning, I thought I saw a dis-
 
 392 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 position to direct public attention to him as one con- 
 cerned in this matter. As we are bound to do our 
 whole duty, we will look over his premises, he being 
 a doctor, and then he will not suffer from an impres- 
 sion so unjust." 
 
 On explanation, Mrs. Howard gave a ready con- 
 sent to the search, she having full confidence that her 
 husband knew nothing of the matter. 
 
 " It is n't much likely," carelessly remarked Skil- 
 lott, as he put a short ladder up against the shed and 
 climbed to the open door. His attention was attract- 
 ed, and he looked down upon the rest of the crowd 
 with apparent surprise and regret at what he had dis- 
 covered. Hesitating a moment, he reached over up- 
 on the hay, and pulled down two shovels and a rope 
 with an iron hook attached. There was blood upon 
 the hook, and that peculiar red soil upon the shovels ! 
 There was a murmur of surprise by the bystanders, 
 and Skillott slowly descended to the ground and re- 
 tired to one side, thoughtful and sad. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he at last, " I will not deny that 
 these things annoy me disappoint me. And it has 
 just occurred to me that my position, in the event 
 of a detection and trial, should induce me to have no 
 more to do with this affair at the present stage of it. 
 The rest of you will do your duty." 
 
 Many appreciated the Judge's delicacy in not wish- 
 ing to learn of facts which should go against his friend. 
 That innocent dignitary gave Jud Lane a meaning 
 wink, and himself refrained from farther search.
 
 THE WICKED PLOT. 393 
 
 Under the hungry scent of Jud Lane, the hunt waa 
 continued. In the wood-shed a pair of boots were 
 found, thickly coated with the red soil, and their size 
 corresponding with the tracks across the fields. They 
 were brought out and placed with the shovels. The 
 office was open, but nothing was found there of the 
 body. The wagon-house was locked. As the doctor 
 had carried the key with him, it was determined to 
 wrench off the staple; a thorough search, after what 
 had been discovered, would alone satisfy the people. 
 
 In one of the farther stables, partially covered with 
 straw, the body of Gerald Brayton was found, 
 wrapped in a coarse blanket, and a rope fastened to 
 the feet and under the arms, and the mark of the 
 hook under the chin ! 
 
 The crowd stood aghast ! They had not yet be- 
 lieved that Doctor Howard was a body snatcher. 
 His friends were sad and sileni, while his many ene- 
 mies, bitter against him as a radical temperance refor- 
 mer, assumed sudden wisdom, and gravely expressed 
 how long they had believed that all was not right. 
 
 As the body was taken into the yard, Howard 
 drove in. Stepping up to the crowd which stood be- 
 fore the open door of the wagon-house, he somewhat 
 excitedly inquired what it all meant. Not one an- 
 swered, leaving him to see for himself. His eye 
 rested upon the body, now divested of all but the 
 shroud, as ghastly and bare it lay out upon the 
 ground. The stomach had ~been taken out of the 
 corpse!
 
 394: MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 This is sad, Doctor, a sad business, which none 
 of all your numerous friends will regret more than 
 myself." 
 
 " What do you mean, Judge Skillott?" fiercely de- 
 manded Howard, looking searchingly in the Judge's 
 face. 
 
 " I mean what I say, Doctor. Appearances are 
 against you in this matter. The present excited state 
 of public feeling will damage your case, I fear." 
 
 " Black-hearted, unblushing villain ! " ground the 
 Doctor between his teeth, as he began to comprehend 
 the strength of the meshes which his enemy had wo- 
 ven around him, " no one knows more of this matter 
 than yourself and your associate in wickedness." 
 
 " You are excited, Doctor, and I will not bandy 
 words with you," calmly replied the Judge. " It does 
 not become my position. It remains to be seen who 
 knows the most of this matter. Officer Gaston, do 
 your duty." The huge blacksmith, with honest em- 
 barrassment, stepped forth to arrest Howard, looking 
 more like a culprit than did the Doctor. 
 
 " Friends," said the latter in a calm tone, " I see 
 through this worse than fiendish scheme. The right 
 will yet triumph." But Howard's heart sank within 
 him, as he saw the skeptical countenances around 
 him. "With pale and compressed lip, he turned, in 
 company with Gaston, and ahead of the crowd, passed 
 into the village, after a brief and touching parting 
 with his wife. He assured her of his innocence, and 
 told her to be of good cheer. The noblo man little
 
 THE WICKED PLOT. 395 
 
 knew how deeply laid were the plans of his relentless 
 enemy. Had he been a cannibal just imported, his 
 own immediate acquaintances could not have stared 
 at him with a more morbid curiosity. Those whom 
 he had counted strong friends, turned coldly away. 
 Those to whose families he had often dispensed with a 
 liberal hand, turned to rend him. His name was 
 covered with infamy, and summary punishment in- 
 voked upon his crime. Howard's noble spirit was 
 grieved at such treatment, for he knew his innocence 
 of the revolting crime laid to his charge, and he felt 
 th?,t others ought to know as much.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 ANOTHER VICTIM IN THE NET THE WICKED BTTLL 
 
 TRIUMPH. 
 
 UNDER pretence of satisfying public opinion, How- 
 ard's bail was fixed at an unreasonable sum by Judge 
 Skillott. The latter affirmed that he had no doubt 
 of the Doctor's honor ; but the charge was a serious 
 one, and the community had a right to thorough 
 measures. It was now that Howard felt more keenly 
 the base ingratitude of those who had fawned around 
 him. Those to whom he confidently looked for aid, 
 by one consent began to make excuses and left him. 
 At this juncture a wealthy citizen, with whom he had 
 often differed with much warmth, promptly came 
 forward on learning the facts, and offered himself as 
 bail. There could be no dispute about his ability, 
 and, after some frivolous objections, he was accepted. 
 Howard was satisfied that his failure to procure bail 
 would have been cnore agreeable. In silence he 
 pressed the hand of his unexpected friend, and went 
 sadly homeward, wondering at the hollow nature of 
 the friendships which he had supposed so true. The 
 prosperous and the powerful always have friends. 
 They vanish under the test of adverse circumstances.
 
 ANOTHER VICTIM IN THE NET. 397 
 
 A " body-snatcher ! " Such was the term Doctor 
 Howard heard whispered as he went about. Curious 
 faces were seen peering from the windows as he passed, 
 and children actually shunned him on the walk. He 
 felt like one branded with infamy. His business was 
 ruined at a blow, and he fled to his own fireside for 
 that sympathy and kindness so grateful to one of his 
 sensitive nature. He there found a friend who clung 
 the closer as others deserted. 
 
 "Walter Brayton did not return to Oakvale until 
 several days after the exciting events just narrated. 
 Skillott managed to see him first, and, as a friend, 
 related all the circumstances of the case, adroitly col- 
 oring the statement so as to secure his own strong hold 
 upon Walter's mind, and at the same time leave a 
 deep impression there against Doctor Howard. The 
 latter frankly demanded an opportunity of speaking 
 to Walter, but under advice, the proposition was al- 
 most insultingly refused. The circumstances were so 
 strong against the Doctor, that Brayton allowed no 
 doubt of his guilt to cross his mind. 
 
 Alas ! what a change was there in Walter Brayton. 
 He had fallen like a meteor from his former high po- 
 sition. The false light of political ambition had lured 
 him into the damning corruptions of party manage- 
 ment. Fast wedded to the new idol, he was easily 
 led to believe that the only chance for success was by 
 abandoning his ultra temperance notions, and becom- 
 ing more liberal in his sentiments and habits. Skil- 
 'ott was his teacher, as well as was the universal cus-
 
 398 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 torn of party management. He must make himself 
 popular, by visiting and treating at the taverns and 
 groceries. Upon that large class which followed such 
 practices, depended the balance of power. Such a 
 course was pursued by all politicians of both parties, 
 which justified it in others. The liberal expectant was 
 made to understand that the taverns and groceries 
 controlled the caucuses, and after the nominations, 
 thousands of votes. If they were not put under pay, 
 their influence would not be secured. Braj r ton felt 
 all this, and yielded too willingly to its seeming ne- 
 cessity. The office he wanted, and he must do as oth- 
 ers did to secure i. From an occasional glass of beer 
 with a squad of tippling voters, he rapidly passed to 
 more potent liquors. As election approached, the 
 descent became more easy and rapid. He dreamed 
 only of drinking, and after election resumed his old 
 habits of temperance. The course was fatal ! The 
 floodgate once up, the Niagara tide swept in, and 
 while the young man's eyes were riveted upon the 
 glare of the coveted position, its silent wave bore him 
 more swiftly away he knew not how swiftly. From 
 many a political mass-meeting he was carried home 
 drunk ! Who could once have believed it of Walter 
 Brayton ! 
 
 Walter secured the nomination for Congress, after 
 a hard-contested strife. Funds were scattered liber- 
 ally, and meetings held throughout the District. He 
 treated liberally, and drank himself. It would not 
 do to flinch, for such was the custom.
 
 ANOTHER VICTIM IN THE NET. 399 
 
 There were undercurrents in the progress of the 
 canvass, unexpected and inexplicable to Bray ton. 
 Reports, most cunningly calculated to injure, were 
 circulated in every direction. They finally appeared 
 in handbills and in the opposition newspaper. He 
 was charged with abusing his father before he died, 
 and of threatening to kill him if he did not make 
 over half of the legacy, and of compounding with 
 those who stole the old man's body. He was report- 
 ed as a gambler and a drunkard as accomplishing 
 the ruin of Minnie Herinon, etc. etc. Bray ton felt 
 these blows, but could obtain no clue to their author- 
 ship. They were all cunningly devised, and most 
 perseveringly circulated. Brayton was defeated by 
 twenty-seven' votes ! The result was a bolt from a clear 
 sky ; for he had confidently looked for a majority of 
 eight or nine hundred, even with all the unexpected 
 influences against him. At one fell swoop, his fabric 
 came crashing about his ears. He was disgraced 
 with his party ; his money was gone, and he in debt. 
 "Walter was a pitiful wreck. The sudden and sweep- 
 ing character of his fall utterly astounded crushed 
 him. He saw no redemption, and shunned the public 
 gaze, plunging with all the strength of his impetuous 
 nature into dissipation to drown his reflections. That 
 was a strange spectacle the wreck of such a man 
 in so brief a space of time and as sad as strange. 
 Hal ton and a few of his former friends made earnest 
 efforts to arrest him in his mad career, but he sul- 
 lenly repelled them all. Alone, the yet lingering
 
 400 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 currents of his nobler, better manhood came throbbing 
 back, and he wept, and attempted to realize the 
 change which had come upon him. He groped in 
 the dark. His proud spirit at times rebelled, and the 
 talons of the eagle clutched and wrenched at the 
 galling iron ; but the demon enthroned within him 
 aroused, and bade him to the dramshop. Dismasted, 
 and no true hand at the helm, a once noble craft was 
 drifting madly to destruction. He who had raised a 
 false light on the dark shore, had cut the cable, and 
 was now rejoicing in his work. 
 
 A few weeks after his defeat he received a letter 
 from the post-office, written upon the back of an old 
 letter with a pencil, the place and date obliterated : 
 
 " WALTER BRAYTON : Beware of the adder's fang. 
 Judge Skillott and John llermon poisoned your fa- 
 ther and forged the will, and attempted to steal the 
 body to hide their guilt. Heed the truth and beware. 
 "A FRIEND IN PRISON AND CHAINS." 
 
 It was early in the morning when he received the 
 mysterious note, and his head throbbed over its con- 
 tents. Did the note reveal the truth ? How came 
 his father to will all his property to Skillott? "Was 
 Skillott a villain? Such, and a thousand kindred 
 questions flashed like shocks across his brain. lie 
 now remembered Minnie Hermon's warning, and 
 reasoned of the probabilities of Skillott's proving a 
 knave. It was difficult to believe it he hacj, shown
 
 ANOTHER VICTIM IN THE NET. 401 
 
 so much interest in his welfare. The strange note 
 had awakened a new train of thought, and for the 
 day Walter determined not to drink a drop. 
 
 The more he thought of the matter the more un- 
 reasonable -it appeared to him that his father should 
 have borrowed so much money of Skillott, or that he 
 should have voluntarily, just at such a juncture, 
 willed all his property to that individual. With these 
 thoughts fastening more strongly upon his mind, Wal- 
 ter determined to call upon Skillott and charge him 
 directly with fraud in the matter. He began to feel 
 astonished that he had ever been made to believe that 
 his father had borrowed five thousand dollars of 
 Skillott ; for the Judge had never been supposed 
 to be worth half that sum, and he was not a man to 
 lend money to those who, like Brayton at the time 
 stated, had nothing to pay. How fatally had a strong 
 and naturally keen mind been blinded by the power- 
 ful influences of rum and political ambition. 
 
 Brayton had at once found an object to fix his at- 
 tention, and arouse the energies of his nature. The 
 bondage of his besetting vice once broken, those en- 
 ergies would recover all their original strength. The 
 more he thought over the improbabilities of Skillott's 
 statement about the will, the more he believed that 
 his father came to his death by violence. 
 
 Clear and burning as the noonday sun, Walter saw 
 why, and how deeply he had fallen. He shuddered 
 as all the humiliating facts rushed in before his clearer 
 vision, and a quick glow burned hotly over his cheek.
 
 4:02 MINNIE. HERMON. 
 
 He staggered with the racking intensity of his thoughts. 
 Sharp, rapid and piercing, they shot like barbed light- 
 nings into his heart, until he clasped his throbbing 
 temples to beat back the pain. Then and now ! 
 Walter Brayton as he was two years before, and Wal- 
 ter Brayton the penniless drunkard ! Involuntarily 
 he leaned over and looked down into the vortex which 
 his heated imagination opened before him, whtre the 
 lost writhed and howled in their infernal orgies. The 
 wail, the curse, and the unearthly ha ! ha ! came fear- 
 fully distinct upon his ear. Upturned to his gaze was 
 one who wore the semblance of his own features, peer- 
 ing sadly from the cloudy gloom, thick drops of blood 
 standing upon the swollen flesh, and the limbs wrap- 
 ped in the slimy coils of a huge reptile, the eye of a 
 findish glitter, the white fangs bared, and the red 
 tongue glancing by the cheek. He shut his eyes as 
 the vision swam before him, but he heard a low hiss. 
 He started, but with eye distended and glassy again 
 looked down into the gloom. He saw the head of the 
 serpent sway backwards and forwards, the eye still 
 upon him, gradually dissolving like mist, and again 
 assuming shape. The features that now swayed were 
 those of Skillott, though the same eye and white fang, 
 and glancing tongue, were there. 
 
 As he looked, the face of him in the tighter ing coils 
 assumed his father's features white, ghastly, and 
 the foam and blood welling from the mouth. The 
 cold sweat gathered damp and clammy upon "Walter, 
 but he could not turn away from the horrid vision.
 
 ANOTHER VICTIM IN THE NET. 403 
 
 Once he heard a low rush, and a shadowy form with 
 wings swept slowly between him and the spectacle 
 the pale and beautiful countenance turned towards 
 him, and the eye melting with sadness, as she beck- 
 oned him to come away. That was his mother. An- 
 other came, still more sad tears lingered on either 
 cheek. That was Minnie Hermon ; and the drunkard 
 wept as the familiar shade hovered within reach. 
 With the energy of a drowning man, Walter grasped 
 at the extended hand. There was a wild, unearthly 
 howl, and the serpent leaped upon the angel forms. 
 Walter heard the violent hissing and the gnashing of 
 fangs, and then a low sound of weeping died away in 
 the distance. The form first seen in the serpent's 
 grasp had been liberated, while the monster had driv- 
 en the winged shadows away. It still looked up to 
 Walter his own image and begged piteously for 
 help. But while that despairing eye still looked, the 
 serpent returned, and slowly, coil upon coil, again 
 bound the body to the throat. The countenance of 
 Skillott still swayed, and sneered, and hissed, upon the 
 arched and scaly neck. Again, he saw a fresh grave 
 in the old church-yard, and by the side of it sat a 
 huge monster feastir>g upon his human carrion. The 
 face of the dead was turned to his view, and was the 
 same he had seen, with its deathly agony and foam- 
 covered mouth. It was by his father's grave ; and 
 still new and horrible sights crowded upon him. 
 Looming up in the distant gloom, was an altar, and a 
 blood-red light slowly spreading its dull glare upon
 
 4-04 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 the damp atmosphere. Upon it were human forms 
 of all ages. With the throat gashed to the spine, a 
 manly frame lay consuming. The mother and her 
 child were there the young bride, the jewel upon 
 her finger glancing like a star in the half-revealed 
 gloom, and her tresses of wavy black matted in the 
 ebbing blood of the suicide husband. Some of the 
 
 O 
 
 features were ghastly with disease, and pinched with 
 want and anguish. Demons there gathered to the 
 foul feast the silence startled by the sounds of their 
 infernal revelry. From grated windows the felon and 
 the maniac looked out upon the scene, and serpents 
 slimed up the scaffold, and fed upon its shrouded trib- 
 ute. Slowly the monster first seen glided away, and 
 as he looked again, it had wrapped the corpse upon 
 the scaffold, its head still swaying, and its eye upon 
 him. Walter saw himself in the shroud. He was 
 again startled by the hiss at his ear, its breath burn- 
 ing like a flame upon his skin. He could not stir to 
 escape. The nightmare of madness was upon him, 
 while ten thousand devilish forms glided towards him. 
 His tongue became forked, and he felt the snaky fangs 
 in his mouth. His head swayed on a scaly neck, and 
 he felt the cold, slimy folds of innumerable serpents 
 weaving their scaly web around him. He answered 
 hiss for hiss, and gnashed his fangs as they did. Each 
 finger grew a swaying head with glittering eye. 
 They crept through his veins. His hair writhed in 
 matted locks. The scaffold and the altar, with their 
 blood-red name, came nearer and nearer, the rope
 
 ANOTHER VICTIM IN THE NET. 405 
 
 i 
 
 changing to a serpent, the arched neck bearing the 
 same likeness as that at first seen. Then came once 
 more the angel shadows, silently and tearfully beck- 
 oning him away. Springing convulsively to reach 
 the outstretched hand, he plunged forward, with one 
 wild, agonizing wail for help. 
 
 It was a fierce struggle which Walter Brayton had 
 passed through. In the horrible delirium of the 
 drunkard's madness, he had leaped through the win- 
 dow of the room he called his office, out upon the side- 
 walk, and fortunately for him, was first seen by Hal- 
 ton, who happened to be passing at the time. With- 
 out slumber, the frame was torn with torment for long 
 days and nights. On one side were his friends, on the 
 other, death. None who have once seen a victim 
 cursed with the drunkard's madness, will ever wish to 
 look upon the like again. No human pen can dea 
 cribe it, but its scenes will burn into the eyeball so 
 deeply that they never pass away. For the time be- 
 ing, all the dread enginery of hell is planted in the 
 victim's brain, and he subjected to its terrible torment. 
 
 But Walter's friends were true. Their efforts and 
 the strength of a good constitution triumphed in the 
 conflict, and pale and trembling, he once more stood 
 upon his feet, the ordeal remaining like the fearful 
 shadow of .a horrible dream. He now doubted his 
 rwn strength, and leaned upon his friends. From 
 them he received tears >and kind words, and felt a 
 heart-throb in every palm. With them he went to
 
 406 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 the Division Room, and became a Son of Temper 
 ance a society just organized in Oak vale. He passed 
 from darkness to light. He felt the shackles falling 
 from his soul and limbs, and again stood up in the 
 dignity of his manhood. His hands were wet with 
 tears when he was greeted by his brothers. With a 
 throat full of emotion and a swimming eye, he re- 
 turned the greeting. The beautiful and sublime ob- 
 ligations had fallen upon his parched spirit like the 
 summer shower, and the greenness of his heart again 
 bloomed ; for it was a burning crater no more. The 
 tempest-tossed was moored in still waters. "Waiter 
 found himself among those with whom he had before 
 labored. Some of them had been saved by his elo- 
 quence, and they now stood around, rejoiced to save 
 him. He was called out with more than old-fashioned 
 enthusiasm to make some remarks. He arose, and 
 Stood for a full moment, but could not utter a word. 
 That silence was more eloquent than words ! Not 
 one link in that band of brothers that night, which 
 did not glisten to a pure and holy tear. Arm in arm 
 with Ilalton, Walter passed out of the Division. The 
 cool night air was like a calm kiss upon his cheek. 
 He felt like a new man that "Walter Brayton was a 
 drunkard no more ! The thought was unutterable 
 joy. He looked out upon those around him, and up 
 to the clear blue sky. Every star seemed a beacon 
 which smiled like an angel's eye. The sky looked 
 bluer and the stars brighter. His own heart was 
 stronger and holier, and he went to his humble room
 
 ANOTHER VICTIM IN THE NET. 407 
 
 with a steady and manly tread. His friends would 
 have persuaded him to go with them, but he wished 
 to be alone. In the still solitude of his room he knelt 
 down till hours went by. No words dropped from, 
 his lips, but every heart-throb beat up against Heav- 
 en with its freight of gratitude, and ebbed back with 
 a blessed light upon its crest. A dark ocean was be- 
 hind him a brighter future before. He thought 
 of his mother and yes Minnie Hermon. The 
 strong heart was broken up, and a warm flood of 
 tears sealed the compact with himself, his mother in 
 Heaven, and God. With none but the stars to look 
 down upon him, he passed out into the silent streets, 
 and walked another hour to make sure that his limbs 
 were free. 
 Walter Bray ton was saved 1 
 
 IT
 
 CHAPTEE XXXI. 
 
 THE SECRET OUT A FATAL WAGEB. 
 
 BITTER sorrow was surging in the old heart of the 
 Widow Weston, and the pleasant chiming of the Sab- 
 bath bells was unheeded by her. Her bowed frame 
 was bitterly convulsed with agony too keen for the 
 old to suffer. A regulated curse had slimed her 
 hearth, and left her a drunken son and unutterable 
 woe. Tears too bitter and scalding for the innocent 
 to shed, were crushed out by an iron heel, and dripped 
 their way down the withered cheek. 
 
 Colonel Weston had been the very soul of honor. 
 He was a gentleman and a nobleman by nature. 
 He was magnanimous to a fault, generous, affable, 
 upright, and genial-hearted. He was a friend of the 
 poor, the stay and pride of his widowed mother, a 
 tower of strength in his party, and an ornament to 
 the social circle. 
 
 The rum business of Oakvale had swept under the 
 stalwart oak, and the lordly trunk lay prostrate. The 
 generous and great-hearted Weston had become a 
 drunkard. The blow seemed more than the widow 
 cjiild bear. With her dim eyes wet with tears she 
 bad pleaded with men that he might be spared to her
 
 THE SECEET OUT. 409 
 
 in her last days. She had wrestled with God, and 
 yet the storm beat unchecked upon her hearth. 
 
 On thfe morning we have introduced the Widow 
 Weston to the reader, she had felt that she could 
 suffer no more. Had he been brought home dead 
 and no stain upon him, she would not have murmured 
 at the stroke, though that stroke swept away all. But 
 at daylight he had been brought home drunk, and 
 placed helpless upon her bed. Her heart would re- 
 bel ; she did not curse God, but she cursed men. "Why 
 must the only link left her of her kindred upon the 
 earth, be thus cruelly wrenched away and broken, 
 and her home filled with desolation ? Why should 
 she be robbed of an only son late in the evening of 
 her life ? The doctrine that a removal of dramshops 
 would pro.ve unconstitutional and infringe upon the 
 natural liberties of men, had never entered the poor 
 old widow's mind ! She felt the rough iron in her in- 
 most soul, feathered by government and sped by a 
 licensed hand. She could not wrench it out. Could 
 she have done so, another and another, from a never 
 exhausting quiver, would have entered the same 
 wound. Poor ISTiobes the wives and mothers of 
 our land they cannot shield a single heart from the 
 remorseless hunters. They have bought of govern- 
 ment, for a price, the blood of the victims, and the 
 victims must be slain. On their carrion the agents 
 of the State grow fat, entering the wretched homes 
 and sitting by the hearth at their lawful feast of ruin 
 and death. We cannot wonder that those who feel
 
 410 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 all this weight of woe, do not comprehend the justice or 
 necessity of that policy which is the producing cause. 
 They have not yet learned that the red plowshare of 
 ruin which rips up their hearthstones, is so regulated 
 as to be harmless and constitutional. 
 
 With many misgivings, Mrs. Weston had consent- 
 ed to the mortgage of the old homestead, for the pur- 
 pose of procuring funds for her son to engage in bu- 
 siness in Oakvale. She could not see it all clear, 
 when he told her that there was no harm in engaging 
 in the wholesale liquor business. The step was a fa- 
 tal one, as she feared from the first. "VVeston found 
 his partner a sharper, and the funds he put into the 
 establishment were soon swallowed up. In a few 
 months ho found himself a bankrupt, and arrested at 
 tlje instigation of his partner, on a charge.of obtain- 
 ing property under false pretences, because he had 
 mortgaged the homestead, on which his mother had 
 a life-lease. These results, combined with habits pre- 
 viously formed, and greatly increased during the busi 
 ness, utterly prostrated Weston's proud spirit. His 
 pride was stung. That nice sense of honor and high 
 tone of feeling which w r ere so characteristic of the 
 man, could not brook his reverses, and his firmness 
 
 y 
 
 gave way to his besetting vice. He became reckless 
 and yielded to rum and its kindred evils. Yet, to the 
 last of his career, he never forgot the poor ; and a cloud 
 of charities unseen by the public eye, were dispensed 
 from a hand trembling with the drunkard's premature 
 palsy.
 
 THE SECRET OUT. 4:11 
 
 When Colonel Weston entered the rum business in 
 Oak vale, the editor of the new temperance paper just 
 started, alluded to the enterprise, and wondered that 
 a man of so much intelligence and real nobleness of 
 heart should engage in so disreputable a business. 
 Colonel Weston was induced to believe that the plain 
 spoken editor was an enemy, and always met him 
 coldly. As they passed each other one afternoon, 
 Weston reeling, Brantford, the editor, turned to watch 
 his steps. For some reason, Weston had also turned 
 to notice his supposed enemy, and their eyes met. 
 
 " Colonel Weston, how are you ? " said Brantford, 
 impulsively stepping forward and offering his hand. 
 Weston looked indignant. 
 
 " "Well enough. Why should you ask ? " drawing 
 himself proudly up. 
 
 " Because I am your friend." 
 
 " You are an enemy, sir, and I cannot give you my 
 hand." 
 
 " Weston, I am not your enemy. God knows I am 
 a friend. Will you not believe it ? " 
 
 " How can I ? " still withholding his hand. 
 
 " Colonel Weston," answered Brantford, in tones 
 low and tremulous with emotion, " look in my eye, 
 and let your own heart tell you whether Thomas 
 Brantford is an enemy ! " Brantford was a bold, 
 plain-spoken, honest temperance reformer ; but under 
 his unassuming exterior, beat a heart as warm and 
 true towards his fellow-man, as ever battled for his 
 good. IJe still stood with his hand extended, and his
 
 412 MTSTNTE HERMON. 
 
 usually dull eye flooded with tears. "Weston looked 
 steadily, astonished that he had known so little of the 
 real character of the much-belied editor. The eye 
 told the truth. "Weston's lip quivered as he looked, 
 his own red eyes filling until they overflowed. 
 
 "And you are a friend of mine ! " he .eagerly ex- 
 claimed. " "Why should you be ? " grasping the ex- 
 tended hand firmly in his own. 
 
 " I am a friend to every noble, high-minded man. 
 I know of none towards whom I feel more friendly 
 than yourself. You have quite misunderstood me, 
 Colonel." 
 
 "I feel I know that. I have, but I did not think 
 it ! But," and he hesitated, as he dropped his eyes to 
 the walk, " I do not deserve your friendship ; I am not 
 high-minded and noble. "Weston is my God! that 
 he should ever be compelled to say it ! is de- 
 graded ! " 
 
 " Enough, Colonel ; I know all that, as an honest 
 man, you would say. Let the past go. You have a 
 host of friends yet." 
 
 "Friends ! " "Weston bitterly replied, as if lost in 
 thought. " They were not friends. They all shun the 
 penniless , God ! Brantford, I can't say it." 
 
 " I know all. You need not say it. Don't let the 
 world say it longer. I can find friends who will stand 
 by you." 
 
 " Where ? " I did not suppose I had more than one 
 friend, my my mother. God knows I do not de- 
 serve her the best, yet most deeply injured."
 
 THE SECRET OUT. 413 
 
 " She never deserts. Colonel. Go to her. If it 
 were necessary, I would give this arm," laying the 
 left hand upon the right shoulder, " to send you back' 
 to her all that you once were." "Weston wrung Brant- 
 ford's hand fiercely, but his features were now black 
 with despair. 
 
 " That would do no good. lam lost ! You do not 
 know how deeply I have fallen. I am disgraced and 
 penniless. "Worse than that : I have well nigh beg- 
 gared my mother. Ko, no ; it's of no use. I can't 
 be saved ; I am not worth saving. The quicker I am 
 dead the better. I cannot live so." 
 
 " But your mother ! She needs you." 
 
 " There 'tis again. She is now heart-broken. It 
 will be cruel to weep over the grave of her drunk- 
 en child ! Merciful God ! were this demon driven out, 
 and I what I once was what you now are, Brant- 
 ford and knew that she would shed her holy tears for 
 a sober child in his grave, I would joy to be drawn 
 into quarters I would die a thousand deaths. To 
 die a drunkard ! " and the strong man sobbed convul- 
 sively. " O how dark an end is that ! They will write 
 it on the stone, ' Colonel "Weston died a drunkard ! ' 
 And that other world you believe in the future, 
 Brantford what of that ? All dark and hopeless 1 
 But," and he looked eagerly into Brantford's face, 
 " they won't sell me rum there, will they ? My fcell 
 is bad enough now ! " 
 
 His manner was wild, desperate, hopeless. Brant-
 
 414: MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 ford plead long and earnestly, but TVeston would 
 make no promise. 
 
 " Good-bye, my friend I know you are snch. If 
 you do not see me again, tell others to shun my foot- 
 steps. I have tried my teeth in vain upon my fetters. 
 There is not a dealer in the village who will not sell 
 me rum while I have money to pay for it. Remem- 
 ber my you know who my 
 
 "Mother?" 
 
 " Yes. I cannot ; it is too holy a word for me to 
 speak. Had I listened to her counsel, I should not 
 have been thus. But it matters not ; it will soon be 
 over. Good-bye ! " 
 
 Brantford watched "Weston until he turned down 
 the street and was out of sight. From that night's 
 revel he was carried home as we have seen him at 
 the commencement of the chapter. As Mrs. Weston 
 knelt over his form and brushed the matted locks from 
 the brow, and imprinted a kiss upon the parched lips, 
 she found the brand of the curse between her and 
 her child. The- fumes of rum polluted the lips, and 
 went down like. a dark cloud into her soul. The 
 kisses which had been sealed upon the puro'lips of 
 childhood, had been burned away by the fiery flood 
 of intemperance. 
 
 Two weeks later, Thomas Brantford sat at the table 
 of ^Irs. Weston, and the subject of the new temper- 
 ance organization was introduced. 
 
 " I suppose," remarked the widow, as she laid her
 
 THE SECRET OUT. 415 
 
 hand upon the tea-pot, " that you are a Son of Tem- 
 perance ? " 
 
 " I am," was the unhesitating answer. 
 
 "Your Order, as you call it, I believe, is a secret 
 society, is it not, Mr. Brantford ? " 
 
 " As I understand the term, it is not." 
 
 " But you do not admit every one, do you ? " 
 
 " Certainly not ; but our members are all known, 
 as is the place where we assemble, and our object 
 that is openly avowed." 
 
 " You have some ceremonies, I suppose ? " 
 
 " "We have. But none but what God himself could 
 approve, if properly conducted. They are simple, 
 pure and impressive." 
 
 " But you are bound by your oaths not to reveal 
 the secret, whatever it is ? " 
 
 " We have no oaths, and, no secrets which we 
 should be ashamed to have the world know, so far as 
 their character is concerned. The pledge of an hon- 
 orable man is our strongest obligation." 
 
 " You do deny that your society is a secret one, 
 then ? " 
 
 " Why, to be sure, we have some business matters 
 that are kept secret, as it is termed. It is necessary 
 that they should be kept so. They concern none but 
 ourselves, and the business we oppose." 
 
 " If I should tell you the secret, Mr. Branfcford, 
 would you frankly acknowledge it ? " 
 
 " Why, as to that, Mrs. Weston, we are obligated 
 not to reveal any of the private affairs of the Or*.le* '
 
 4:16 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 " Just as I thought. You have secrets, then, which 
 you dare not are bound not to reveal." 
 
 " If you had promised to keep a neighbor's secret, 
 would you reveal it, though there should be no oath 
 in the matter? Or, if something occurred in your 
 family which you felt had better be kept to yourself, 
 would you feel that you were doing wrong to do so ? " 
 
 " Not a whit, Mr. Brantford. But there has some- 
 thing occurred. I have a secret which I want you 
 to know." 
 
 " You will'prob ably violate no obligation in reveal- 
 ing it?" 
 
 " No, I am under obligation rather, to out with it. 
 And, sir, I will make you, Son as you are, own the 
 secret of your Order." 
 
 " It may be." 
 
 The tea was smoking in the cups, but so earnestly 
 had the conversation been carried on, that neither 
 had yet commenced eating. Mrs. Weston wiped her 
 glasses, and in -a more serious tone began : 
 
 "I need not tell you, Mr. Brantford, about the his- 
 tory of the past. You know the Colonel you know 
 it all. He is my only child. A mother may be par- 
 tial, I know ; but I may say that, aside from the fear- 
 ful habit which has so grown upon him, he : .s al) that 
 a mother could wish. He is the only one it/t, me 
 to love the idol of my old age. You are awa**e of 
 his habits ; but you know nothing of the sorrow they 
 have wrought for me. I cannot tell it, and God only 
 knows it. I have loved the boy with all the bound-
 
 THE SECRET OUT. 
 
 less depth of a mother's love, and have leaned upon 
 him as my feeble steps have neared the grave. I have 
 prayed, and plead, and wept, and suffered on, until 
 it seemed that my poor heart could bear no more. 
 Oh, it is cruel to receive harsh language from a child 
 so loved. See here ? " and she bared her withered 
 arm, " here is a secret which you will not reveal. 
 Three weeks ago, while intoxicated, he struck me, 
 and the blow entered my very soul. It is hard, Mr. 
 Brantford, to have a blow from such a hand hard." 
 She leaned back in her chair, and wiped the tears 
 from under her glasses. " You remember," she con- 
 tinued, how he was brought home two Sabbaths ago, 
 and his severe sickness. Night before last, two stran- 
 gers came and inquired for him. My heart fluttered, 
 and I know I was short with them ; but really, I feared 
 they were some of his drinking companions, and I 
 dreaded the worst. They were courteous, however, and 
 I showed them into his room. I grew more suspicious 
 as they closed the door behind them and entered into 
 conversation. You will forgive me, Mr. Brantford, 
 but I could not help watching them through the key- 
 hole. I was determined that, if they were his tavern 
 companions, he should not leave the house with them. 
 My son was sitting on the bed with tears in his eyes, 
 and one of the strangers each side of him. I saw 
 them shake hands, and then the strangers went out." 
 To all my anxious inquiries, I could get no answer. 
 Last night the same individuals came again, and my 
 son commenced putting on his things to leave with
 
 418 MINNIE HEUMON. 
 
 them. "With a sad but strong heart, I placed my hand 
 upon his arm, and looked beseechingly in his eye. ' I 
 must go, Mother,' (he answered me kindly,) ' it is 
 business of importance ; but 1 will be home early.' 
 They passed out, and I turned away to pray. I wres- 
 tled with God, and my prayers were answered. About 
 ten o'clock I heard footsteps on the walk, and my 
 heart grew still with dread. Thank the good God, 
 Mr. Brantford, they were steady. The door was 
 thrown open, and my son stood upon the threshold. 
 It seemed as though I should sink as I watched him ; 
 but my heart bounded with new hope he was not 
 drunk ! No, Mr. Brantford, he wasn't drunk ! Com- 
 ing towards me, he put his arms around my neck as 
 he used to when a child, and I felt the warm tears as 
 he kissed me again and again. 1 was so happy, Mr. 
 Brantford ! " and again she wept in silence. "At last 
 he said, ' Mother, my own deeply injured mother, can 
 you ever forgive me ? Look on me now. I am sober. 
 Yes, Mother, I am free. Hear that ! free, and a man 
 once more. I'll love you now as I once did, and you 
 shall love me again. Will you not, my Mother ? "We 
 will forget the dark past. You shall dry your tears 
 and be happy again. No more sorrow here no 
 more unkindness. God forgive me, Mother ! but I 
 will not strike you again. I will be all that a son 
 should be to so good a parent my only one. Look 
 up ! Mother, I am a Son of Temperance ! Don't 
 that make your old heart glad ? ' I knelt down, and 
 it seeme4 to me that my heart never so went out in
 
 THE 8ECKET OUT. 419 
 
 prayer to God for so much good. My son still clung 
 to my hand, and when I arose, I 'noticed that the two 
 strangers had entered, and were kneeling, also. My 
 son is saved ; and O ! I am so happy. Now, Mr. 
 Brantford, I have found out the secret of your Order. 
 It is to meet the returning prodigal, and to restore 
 him to those who mourn for him as one lost, and make 
 old hearts and homes happy. Isn't that it ? " Brant- 
 ford raised his head from his hand, and with a wet 
 cheek, replied with a monosyllable. 
 
 " And may the widow's God prosper the Order in 
 all lands," fervently ejaculated Mrs. "Weston. 
 
 While Colonel Weston was engaged in the liquor 
 business, one of his peddlers had sold liquor to a tav- 
 ern-keeper in a village upon the canal. After much 
 solicitation from the assignees, he consented to go and 
 collect the bill. 
 
 "Weston reached the village on Friday night, and 
 put out his horse at the tavern where the liquor had 
 been sold. A company, of questionable character, 
 was assembled for a dance. Somewhat at a loss for 
 something to amuse himself about, "Weston thought 
 he would dance one figure, and then retire to his bed. 
 He danced again and again, liquor in the meantime 
 flowing freely above and below. After refusing to 
 drink several times, he was taunted by one of the 
 managers with a disposition to "sneak," and not stand 
 his part. This was touching "Weston in a tender point 
 and besides, the smell and presence of the liquor 
 the gurgling sound, the jingle of glasses, and the
 
 420 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 drumming of the toddy-stick, had aroused the not-yet 
 weakened enemy in his bosom. Excited and waver- 
 ing, he thought he would drink slightly and get out 
 of the scrape. 
 
 An hoar later, and Weston was mad with rum. 
 lie alternately drank and danced until morning. The 
 bar-room was crowded, and the revel continued there. 
 While the company were drinking around, as they 
 called it, a notorious young sot came in from the vil- 
 lage, and took a part. He had already squandered a 
 fortune of forty-thousand dollars, left him by his father. 
 This young man, whom we will call Hoover, finally 
 gave Wcston a challenge. He said he could drink 
 any man drunk from Oak vale. "Weston was in just 
 the mood to accept the wager, and did so. The bar 
 was left wholly to the contestants, and Monongahela 
 whisky produced for the trial. With that disposition 
 to be honorable and fair, characteristic of the man, 
 Colonel Weston every time poured out the two glass- 
 es, and gave Hoover his choice. They kept up the 
 strife until they had drank nearly a quart each. 
 Twice in that time, Hoover, as usual with him on such 
 sprees, had stolen out, and there threw his liquor from 
 the stomach, while Weston would have scorned such 
 an act. 
 
 Two more glasses stood ready on the counter, and 
 Hoover was asked to take his choice. lie turned his 
 liquor off with a steady hand. Weston took his in a 
 trembling grasp, and, drinking but a portion of it, 
 set the glass 'heavily down and turned away. But
 
 THE FATAL WAGER. 421 
 
 no hand was readied in to guide him out from that 
 band of jeering devils. He was sneered and hissed at 
 for yielding. His pride was touched, and he turned, 
 grasped the glass with both hands, turned the con- 
 tents all off, and with a sickly smile upon his counte- 
 nance, fell heavily forward upon the bar-room floor, 
 dead! He was carried out and rolled for the purpose 
 of getting the liquor out of his stomach. While un- 
 dergoing this process, Hoover stole his money from 
 his pocket ! 
 
 Weston was carried into an upper room, and with- 
 out a friend to watch or a mother to weep, left while 
 the revel went on below. There lay the corpse, the 
 eyes glaring, the arms flung out, and the liquor well- 
 ing up and out of the distorted mouth, there, on 
 Sabbath morning, and in the bar-room below were 
 forty-two drunken revelers ! The tavern was under 
 the usual regulations as per law ! 
 
 The news of Weston's death was broken tenderly 
 to his mother. 
 
 " My son dead ! How did he die, Mr. Holley ; tell 
 me, how did he die ? " 
 
 " He died in a fit, I believe." 
 
 " God Almighty be thanked for that," she sobbed, 
 as she locked her hands together and turned her 
 streaming eyes upward. " Yes, I thank God for that. 
 Though my all is taken away, yet he did not die a 
 drunkard ! " 
 
 Mr. Holley and the friends believed it would be 
 kindness to keep the truth from Mrs. Weston-. Brant-
 
 422 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 ford did not give them in his paper. But the widow 
 learned the particulars at last, and the wound of his 
 death bled deeper than at first. 
 
 "God forgive me, but I curse them. They killed 
 my son, and I curse them. Why did that man give 
 him drink ? Had he come at night and shot my boy 
 at my hearth, I could have knelt down and blessed 
 him. But he killed him he killed him ! O God ! 
 this is bitter indeed, and hard to bear. Now give 
 me the rest of the grave, for all is dark to me." 
 
 The stricken woman swayed and sobbed in the old 
 arm chair, and found the heart yet full of its scalding 
 flood, every drop more bitter than ever before. 
 
 Mrs. Weston still lingers at the homestead, her 
 gray hairs going down in sorrow to the grave. The 
 property value of a quart of Monongahela whisky 
 was saved by the rum-dealer, a defenceless, unoffend- 
 ing old woman robbed of her only son, and society 
 of a talented and noble-minded citizen! It would 
 have been tyrannical and unconstitutional to have 
 destroyed that quart of liquor ; but it was all right 
 and legal and constitutional to destroy a man like 
 Colonel Weston, and wring his mother's heart with 
 worse than savage torture I
 
 CHAPTEK XXXII. 
 
 A GROUPING OF SCENES. 
 
 AMONG those who regretted "Walter Brayton's re- 
 form was Skillott ; for new fuel had been added to 
 the hatred of the latter. Walter had called upon him 
 and made inquiries in relation to the Will, and about 
 the money which the Judge pretended that the elder 
 Brayton had borrowed. The inquiry was unwelcome, 
 and the searching tone in which it was made was sug- 
 gestive to the suspicions of the uneasy dignitary ; and 
 he answered tartly, and intimated that he did not 
 wish to hear any more about the matter from one who 
 was rngrateful and ready to be put up to abuse him 
 when he had done so much for him. This language 
 aroused Brayton, for he had learned of Skillott's 
 treachery in the canvass at the time he was up for 
 Congress, and he charged the Judge with being the 
 author of the slanders, and the cause of his defeat. 
 Hot words ensued, and Brayton openly charged him 
 with defrauding his father, if not guilty of a still 
 worse crime against the old man. The quarrel was 
 a hitter one, the manner and language of Skillott 
 going far to convince Wa.ter that there were good 
 grounds for his suspicions. Late on the evening after
 
 42-i MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 the meeting of Brayton and Skillott, the latter was 
 closeted with Herraon at the Home, in low and earn- 
 est conversation. The unscrupulous Judge was not 
 yet safe from those whom he had wronged. Guilt 
 must be shielded with guilt. 
 
 On the evening in question, a drover had put up at 
 the Home, the other hotels being full during the 
 County Fair. The man had passed down to New- 
 York a few weeks before, with a very large drove of 
 cattle, and was now on his return. In the course of 
 the evening he drank freely, and insisted on treating 
 frequently the numerous company around him. As 
 he became intoxicated he was communicative, and 
 disposed to boast of his means, and display the large 
 amounts of money he had with him. Lane, who was 
 now in partnership with Hermon, was one of the most 
 forward in urging the old man to drink. Towards 
 midnight the drover was carried to the back chamber 
 and put in bed. Soon after, the lights in the Home 
 were all extinguished, and the house closed for the 
 night. 
 
 On this day Minnie Hermon had found new ingre- 
 dients mingled in her bitter cup. From some cause 
 or other, Ilermon had been induced to be the bearer 
 of a base proposition to his own daughter, from Skil- 
 lott. Minnie looked into the drunkard's face with 
 astonishment too deep for- utterance. She could 
 hardly believe that she heard aright as she stood with 
 her lips apart and colorless as marble. As the full 
 import of her father's words slowly came to her un
 
 A GROUPING OF SCENES. 425 
 
 derstanding, the blood came quick and hot to her 
 cheek, and her languid eye kindled with fire. 
 
 " And this language from my father ! "" she passion- 
 ately exclaimed. " Great God ! has it come to this ! 
 John Hermon, are you so imbruted with rum as to 
 breathe such baseness to an only child? Is it true? 
 Or is it a horrible dream ? Tell me it is false, Father. 
 I can die for you, for I promised my mother to cling 
 to you ; but this is horrible. Unsay the cruel words 
 or you will kill me." 
 
 Hermon answered with a brutal laugh, telling her 
 that she might as well be the mistress of a judge as 
 of a long-coated hypocrite. 
 
 " John Ilermon," she gasped, with vehemence, 
 " were I man and you less than a father, I would re 
 Bent such language as this. God knows I am not do 
 serving of such treatment from you." 
 
 " Why, Min., the Judge loves you." 
 
 " It's a lie, father ! He has already insulted me in 
 our own house." 
 
 " Come, now, don't be (hie) silly ; the fact is, we 
 are under some obligations ahem to the Judge." 
 
 o o 
 
 " No obligations on earth should induce a father to 
 harbor one moment such thoughts as you have uttered 
 to me." 
 
 "I I (hie) 1 don't like to offend him, you 
 know, and " 
 
 "Craven ! and you would listen to him rather than 
 to offend him, and then stoop to retail his baseness. 
 John Hermon would not have so stooped once ! "
 
 426 MDTNIE HERMON. 
 
 " Take care, Miss ; you don't know it all. You 
 may be sorry if you treat (hie) the Judge disrespect- 
 fully. I the fact is I owe him." 
 
 "And you would sell me to a human monster ! Fa- 
 ther, I have borne with disgrace, and the desertion of 
 friends with violence at your hands. I can bear 
 still, but never a word more of what you have now 
 whispered and do you hear ? I will not. I will 
 die, and be at rest with my sainted mother." 
 
 " There 'tis sainted mother, again. I've told you 
 
 enough, you hussy, to stop such d d nonsense. 
 
 Take that for your impudence ; I am not so drunk as 
 not to rule in my own house," and he glared upon 
 the girl as she reeled under his heavy blow. " And 
 see here, Miss, none of your sauce to Skillott," he 
 concluded, as he turned away. 
 
 How the blow burned on the wasted cheek ! Oth- 
 ers had preceded it, hurting the swollen heart more 
 than the flesh. In her room, Minnie wept herself 
 into calm despair, and prayed for death. " Oh, my 
 mother," she exclaimed, " why did you bind me to a 
 fate like this?" 
 
 Minnie could think of no one to whom she could 
 tell her troubles, or look for protection, and she feared 
 the time might come when she would need the strong 
 arm of a friend. She thought of one who was now a 
 stranger, but her true woman's heart rejoiced at the 
 news of his reformation. Ilalton was her friend 
 she would call on him, for if the worst came, she must 
 have some place to flee. Even as she that night
 
 A QKODPING OF SCENES. 427 
 
 passed up the stairs, Lane had placed himseli before 
 her room door with an insulting leer. Where was 
 the Hermit all this time, she wondered, as she threw 
 on her hood, determined to visit Halton's even at that 
 late hour a presentiment of coming ill preventing 
 her from seeking slumber. 
 
 As she stood at the head of the stairs, listening to 
 learn if there were any persons up in the house, she 
 was startled by the careful opening of the bar-room 
 door, and the stealthy steps of two individuals upon 
 the bottom steps. Fearing that she could not reach 
 her own room in time, she stepped through the door- 
 way into the back chamber, not knowing that there 
 was any one within. Her fears were increased as 
 those whom she had heard followed her through tho 
 doorway into the room. There was a dark closet 
 made of rough boards, between the wall and the 
 chimney, with a narrow door hung upon leathers. 
 Minnie entered this, awaiting the departure of the 
 intruders, or an opportunity of stealing out unheard- 
 She could plainly hear the whispering of two persons, 
 and immediately she noticed a beam of light in the 
 closet. As it entered through a knot hole in the rude 
 partition just below the latch, she could, by stooping, 
 observe all that occurred in the room. She was sur- 
 prised to see some one on the bed asleep, and before 
 it her father and Lane, a candle, pail, and a blanket 
 which they proceeded to hang before the window, af- 
 ter Lane had care.fully turned the key in the door. 
 The latter act precluded all possibility of her present
 
 4:28 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 escape from her unpleasant position. The two held 
 a brief consultation in low whispers, but they were 
 so near her place of concealment that she heard all 
 that was said. 
 
 " You are sure he wont wake ? " asked Herraon. 
 
 " Sure, I tell you," replied Lane, " for the dose 
 was a big one." 
 
 Minnie shuddered as the words assumed a signifi- 
 cant meaning, but more as she saw them pull off 
 their coats and roll their shirt sleeves above the el- 
 bows, Lane having a. large, broad-bladed knife in his 
 hand. The candle slightly trembled in her father's 
 hand, and even Lane's face, desperado as he was, was 
 paler than she had ever seen it before. She dreaded 
 some fearful scene, and yet certainly her father ah ! 
 she had it ; the man was sick and must be bled. But 
 then again, such a blade, and not either her father 
 or Lane were doctors. She now for the first time no- 
 ticed that the pail contained water, and that, setting 
 towards the door, was a large tub. 
 
 The two whispered again, looked towards the bed, 
 then at each other, when Lane made a gesture of read- 
 iness with his knife. Minnie's heart ceased to beat, 
 as she saw her father carefully lift the sleeping man's 
 shoulders and draw him over the edge of the bed, and 
 then, after untying his cravat and unbuttoning his 
 shirt collar, bend the head back over the tub, which 
 had been placed under him. He then turned his 
 own head away, and stood as far off as he could. She 
 eaw a movement by Lane, a glance of steel, and
 
 A GKOUPING OF SCENES. 429 
 
 heard, as her head swam in darkness, a gurgling, cho- 
 king sound from the bed. With one wild, piercing 
 shriek, she sank upon the floor, insensible. 
 
 
 
 The next jnorning it was rumored that the drovei 
 had beeu murdered in the streets. A score of differ- 
 ent stories were flying about, but all fixing upon Wal- 
 ter Brayton as the murderer. As the latter cama 
 from his boarding place to his office, he was aston- 
 ished to find it surrounded by a crowd of nearly one 
 thousand people, all in a high state of excitement, and 
 attracted by some object in the office. So eager were 
 all to catch a view of the point of interest, that he 
 had not been noticed as he had wedged through the 
 crowd, and now stood at his office door. Skillott first 
 saw him. 
 
 " There he comes," shouted Jud Lane, as he, too, 
 caught sight of Walter ; " let's hang him." 
 
 " Hang him ! " was caught up by the crowd and 
 went fiercely round, while the mass swayed as if one 
 common pulse throbbed throughout. Angry brows 
 were bent darkly upon the bewildered man, and om- 
 inous words were whispered by more than one sober 
 citizen. His very appearance was looked upon as a 
 bold piece of acting to give the impression of inno- 
 cence. 
 
 "What what does this mean?" finally asked 
 Brayton, looking about him with astonishment. 
 
 " It means that you are a black-hearted villain and 
 a murderer tliafs what it means," said Jud Lane,
 
 430 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 thrusting his clenched fist into Brayton's face. With 
 a quick, strong sweep of his powerful arm, the latter 
 struck the landlord to the ground. 
 
 " Hang him up ! Away with him ! Hang him 
 up ! " was literally howled forth, as the act was wit- 
 nessed. 
 
 " For what ? Why this crowd ? And why such lan- 
 guage to me ? " demanded Brayton, as the lion in him 
 began to stir, and he raised himself to his full height. 
 
 " You'll find out soon enough," was the reply from 
 several quarters. 
 
 At this juncture, Judge Skillott took off his hat, the 
 crowd becoming orderly as they noticed his wish to 
 speak. 
 
 " Fellow-citizens, one whom we well know, Mr. 
 Brayton, is charged with a revolting crime. Last 
 night Mr. Nye, the drover, was murdered by some 
 one. The body, with the throat cut from ear to ear, has 
 been found hidden in Mr. Brayton's office, together 
 with the watch and pocket-book of the deceased. 
 Suspicion has fallen strongly upon Mr. Brayton as the 
 one who perpetrated the crime. It is to be hoped by 
 all his friends that he will be able to clear himself of 
 the charge. In the mean time, as friends of good 
 order and law, I feel constrained to urge you all to go 
 into no violent measures, assuring you that the ma- 
 josty of the law will be vinc 1: cated, and the guilty 
 brought to punishment. One unlawful act does not 
 justify another." 
 
 Walter, with that keenness of intellect character-
 
 A GROUTING OF SCENES. 4:31 
 
 istic of himself, at once comprehended the fiend-like 
 cunning of the plot to ruin him, and his lip quivered 
 as the officers came forward and placed the fetters 
 upon his hands, and he passed through the frowning 
 crowd to the jail. 
 
 The time of Doctor Howard's trial at last came 
 round, and found him as unprepared as at first. He 
 had left no effort unmade for the discovery of the 
 whereabouts of the Hermit ; but no clue had been 
 found as the result of his inquiries. 
 
 Unfortunately for his case, a fresh outrage had been 
 perpetrated in the burial ground of Oakvale, and the 
 popular mind was at once inflamed by an excitement 
 more intense than at first. The grave of Colonel Wes- 
 ton had been robbed on the night following his burial, 
 and under most aggravated circumstances the coffin 
 being left on the ground and the grave open. A wag- 
 on was tracked from the entering gate to Howard's 
 office ; but no trace of the body could be found about 
 the premises. So infuriated were the people at this 
 bold perpetration of body robbery, that they tore 
 Howard's office to the ground, and had commenced 
 on his house, when Judge Skillott interfered with a 
 posse of police and put a stop to the riot. Howard 
 felt that this affair sealed his doom, and awaited the 
 day of trial with the calmness of despair. 
 
 The trial was brief, for Howard had no testimony 
 to offer against that brought forward by the prosecu- 
 tion, and the case went to the jury after a few remarks 
 18
 
 432 MINNIE HERHON. 
 
 by the gentlemanly prosecuting attorney ; Howard 
 doggedly preserving sullen silence through the whole 
 trial. The jury, after retiring a short half-hour, re- 
 turned with a verdict of guilty. Howard's face was 
 bloodless, and but for a shriek which broke the op- 
 pressive silence in the court-room, not a breath was 
 heard as the verdict was pronounced by the foreman. 
 Howard recognized the voice, which rang like a des- 
 pairing wail in the hushed room, and the blood rushed 
 like a flame upon his cheek and brow, he biting his 
 lip through with a convulsive start. Twas then that 
 he stood up and asked permission to say a few words. 
 The Judge was sure of him, now that the verdict waa 
 declared, and very blandly granted the request. 
 Howard remarked in substance : 
 
 " Friends no I will not say that after the treat- 
 ment I have received in this community I am 
 aware that my fate is fixed, and I am to be branded 
 as a felon, and incarcerated in prison among felons 
 But for one whose heart has well-nigh given way un- 
 der the blow, I should not have opened my mouth on, 
 this occasion. Before God and you, my fellow-citizens 
 and neighbors, I am as innocent of this crime which 
 is charged upon me as the most innocent among you. 
 I find myself bound and powerless in the toils of as 
 base a plot as ever ruined an innocent man. My 
 name has been covered with infamy, my wife treated 
 with neglect and scorn, and my property laid waste 
 by an infuriated mob. And, as if to make the blow 
 Btill more crushing, another crime, still more aggia-
 
 A GROUPING OF SCENES. 433 
 
 rated than the first, has been charged against me, 
 and traced to my door. 
 
 " I did not rob Gerald Brayton's grave. I have sat- 
 isfactory evidence that he was poisoned in one of the 
 taverns of this village. He was hurried to the grave 
 on purpose to conceal the fact of his being poisoned ; 
 but becoming alarmed, the murderers [fixing his eye 
 boldly upon the Judge] dug up the body. They were 
 caught in the act, and frightened from their prey. 
 Myself and another individual saw it all ; and after 
 they fled from the body, it was taken to my premises, 
 (where it was found by your committee,) and the stom- 
 ach taken out and the contents subjected to a chem- 
 ical analysis. Your committee failed in finding the 
 stomach ; and not until the real perpetrators of this 
 double crime are before you on trial, will the proof it 
 furnishes of a violent death be brought to light. 
 There was one who knows more of this matter than I 
 do, and to whom I have looked for a solution of all 
 this difficulty. His absence is unaccountable to me. 
 
 "But I will not detain you. I see by your counte- 
 nances that my words find no lodgment in your minds. 
 So be it. I go to prison ; but surely, a just God, who 
 knows my innocence, will yet bring the guilty to 
 punishment. Those who stole the body of Gerald 
 Brayton are now in this court-room, but not under 
 sentence. The main actor, and I believe, one who 
 first poisoned and then planned the robbery of the 
 body, is now on the bench, and is to sentence one 
 who is innocent, for the crime he committed ! "
 
 434: MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 There was intense excitement in the audience as 
 Howard uttered these words, with his eye turned full 
 and steadily upon Judge Skillott. Save a slight pallor 
 around the mouth, the countenance of that personage 
 wore a pitying sneer, plainly saying he forgave the 
 prisoner this malignant attempt to avert odium from 
 himself by making a charge against the bench. 
 
 The audience hushed as Skillott slowly arose to sen- 
 tence the prisoner. The remarks of the Judge wero 
 cunningly made up of pity and forgiveness for one 
 who blamed so unjustly. It had been a sad and un- 
 pleasant duty to try one of his own friends and neigh- 
 bors, and it only remained for him to meet the most 
 painful duty of all, in sentencing the prisoner to the 
 state prison for the term of five years and six months. 
 
 Mrs. Howard was taken from the court-room to her 
 desolate home, moaning and weeping with delirium, 
 calling plaintively upon her husband's name, and im- 
 ploring help to save him. There was a quick, impul- 
 sive reaction in many a mind, as people looked upon 
 her situation, and in their sympathies for her they 
 forgot the harsh words they had spoken of the Doctor. 
 
 As Mrs. Howard could not visit the jail, Howard 
 was taken to his dwelling to see her. It was a scene 
 which, were we able, we could wish to describe. The 
 moaning maniac appeared to recognize the voice, and 
 welcomed him with smiles and tears. She would lis- 
 ten as Howard stooped where she knelt, and between 
 each lingering kiss upon her hot brow whispered 
 u poor Mary."
 
 A GROUPING OF SCENES. 435 
 
 Aye, poor Mary! The husband and wife were 
 gently parted ; and he, with a look of agony such as 
 can never be described, stood upon the threshold and 
 looked upon the silent room, wept his choking "God 
 bless you ! " upon the sunny locks of his child, and 
 reeled away. There were no rude sounds as the pris- 
 oner passed through the streets to the prison, that in- 
 stitution having just been completed in Oakvale. 
 Howard turned at the corner and looked towards .his 
 home again. 
 
 The heavy mass of iron crashed back to its place, 
 falling coldly into the heart, and the prisoner was en- 
 tombed. Then only was it that people remembered 
 the goodness of the ever-frank and manly physician. 
 And as fresh outrages occurred in the burial ground, 
 more than one who had followed Howard so bitterly 
 began to question whether a great wrong had not 
 been done to an innocent man. 
 
 
 
 As the talk about the trial and conviction of How- 
 ard died away, the approaching trial of Walter Bray- 
 ton assumed its place in the public mind. 
 
 Calm, pale, and with a manly port worthy of Wal- 
 ter in his best days, he sat in the prisoner's box. Hia 
 flesh had wasted, and his color had faded during his 
 confinement, but his eye was full, and boldly searched 
 the countenances' of those around him. The room 
 was densely crowded, for the Attorney-General had 
 been engaged for the prosecution ; and as it became 
 known that Walter would defend himself in person,
 
 4:36 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 the people counted on a trial of great interest. To 
 the usual question, he firmly answered "Not guilty," 
 and looked every one of the jurors steadily in the eye 
 as they came before him. 
 
 The triai proceeded. The proof was all circum- 
 stantial, yet bearing hard against the prisoner. Ju.d 
 Lane swore directly to having seen Brayton with Nye 
 late in the evening of the murder, in the vicinity of 
 Bray ton's office. Brayton subjected the fellow to a 
 searching cross-examination ; but his story was brief 
 and doggedly repeated every time. It was shown in 
 proof that the body of the drover was found concealed 
 in the prisoner's office, with the throat cut, and a wal- 
 let known to be the drover's in his (Brayton's) over- 
 coat pocket. There were marks of a scuffle, and of 
 blood upon the floor. Another witness testified that 
 he had heard the deceased asking legal advice of the 
 prisoner, about certain difficulties with a farmer of 
 whom he had purchased cattle. The pocket-book of 
 the deceased too, was found in the office. 
 
 *Brayton offered but one witness Halton who 
 testified that the prisoner was with him from before 
 dark until two o'clock in the morning, engaged oil 
 business of the Division, and when that was finished, 
 he retired tc bed as usual, the prisoner boarding at 
 his house 
 
 The arguments were brief, though unusually elo- 
 quent and able. "Walter's defence was worthy of his 
 fame as an advocate and an orator. He commented 
 upon the evidence, accounting for the circumstances
 
 A GROUPING OF SCENES. 437 
 
 upon no other ground than as a worse than devilish 
 conspiracy to blacken the name and take the life of 
 an innocent man. 
 
 "As God is my judge, gentlemen, I am as ignorant 
 as yourselves of the manner in which the body of the 
 deceased came in my office. It is true I was retained 
 by Mr. Nye as counsel in a suit, but farther than 
 that, I never passed a word with him. I was not 
 in his company on the night ol his death, nor in 
 the neighborhood of my office. It does not look rea- 
 sonable that I should commit so horrible a crime in 
 my own office, and leave the records to be found 
 against me. 
 
 " But I will not detain you, gentlemen, though life 
 is sweet, and an innocent man might be indulged in 
 addressing those in whose hands his fate is placed. I 
 have been guilty of much ; but there is no stain of 
 blood upon this hand. It would be sweet to live and 
 redeem the errors of the past, but there are few to re- 
 gret me. I have no kindred on earth, and should you 
 condemn me, gentlemen, I can meet God with a C9n- 
 science clear of this crime charged against me. What- 
 ever your verdict may be, I know not ; but if against 
 me, I shall meet my fate with a lighter heart than will 
 those who have conspired to rob me of the only boon 
 left me of a bitter wreck. In behalf of such as may 
 believe me unjustly charged, I again, before this im- 
 mense audience and my God, most solemnly affirm 
 my innocence of the crime for which I am on trial. 
 A.n ignominious death may be mine, for it were vain
 
 4:38 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 to deny that the evidence is strongly against me ; but 
 the right will ultimately triumph, and the dread stig- 
 oia be removed from the name of Walter Brayton." 
 
 The next morning, after the cause went to the jury, 
 the prisoner was brought into court and the verdict 
 declared. It is ever painful to await the voice of a 
 foreman when the life of a fellow-being hangs upon 
 his words. The stillness which falls upon the multi- 
 tude is painful. 
 
 " Guilty, but recommended to mercy," was the 
 slow answer of the foreman. There was a low rush 
 of voices, and again the stillness. To the usual inter- 
 rogatory, Brayton replied that he had nothing to say. 
 When called upon by the Judge, he stood up almost 
 proudly, and listened to the sentence. Skillott affect- 
 ed great feeling in pronouncing the sentence, but 
 shunned the calm and piercing eye of the prisoner. 
 Walter was sentenced to be hung by the neck until 
 he was dead. 
 
 The bearing of the prisoner had been so noble 
 so modest, yet bold and manly that many who be- 
 lieved him guilty, could not but admire the man, and 
 pity his fate. The people dispersed and went thought- 
 fully to their homes. 
 
 Not until in his cell and alone, did Walter begin 
 to realize the result of his trial. 'Twas there that the 
 bright dreams he had woven since his reform came 
 back to mock him. lie did not give way to grief, 
 but his spirit chafed against his prison bars, and strove 
 to grapple with the unseen hand which had wrought
 
 A GROUPING OF SCENES). 439 
 
 such wrong. He was bound in the dark, and now lay 
 Helpless, sentenced to an ignominious death, and with- 
 out friends to save him from the fate. Gaston, the 
 jailer, was kind, and Halton and his companions de- 
 serted him not ; but those with whom he had associa- 
 ted in party conflicts left him alone. Elder Snyder 
 called upon him once, and coldly talked to him as to a 
 guilty murderer, and urged him to confess his crime 
 as the only atonement he could make. Walter indig- 
 nantly repelled his advice, and gave him to under- 
 stand that he should not damn his soul with a lie. The 
 elder drew a long sigh, and then turned haughtily 
 away. 
 
 About this time an itinerating Methodist revivalist 
 came to Oakvale and commenced a series of meet- 
 ings, which rapidly kindled a high state of religious 
 feeling throughout the community. Crowds flocked 
 to hear the new comer the rich and the abandoned 
 weeping over the deep and melting pathos of his ap- 
 peals. His style was not the denunciatory, save when 
 assailing wrong ; but to men, he plead as a brother 
 would plead. He visited the sick and comforted the 
 afflicted, wept with those who wept, was mild and 
 winning to the young, and for the erring he ever had 
 a kind and forgiving word. His manner was humble 
 and subdued, though at times he would rouse like a 
 storm, his eyes flashing like the lightning under his 
 cloudy brow. His appearance and manner were pa- 
 triarchal ; his white locks and beard flowing uncut, 
 his neat but plain apparel, his eye of mingled sadness
 
 440 MINNIE IIERMON. 
 
 and smiles, bis voice of singular sweetness and powerj 
 and his easy gestures, combined to render tbe man 
 irresistible as a preacher. His sermons were not all 
 made up of the terrible imagery of infernal torment ; 
 but of love and hope, and eternal bliss in a better 
 land of a Saviour weeping over Jerusalem, and 
 over the grave of Lazarus of his meekness and 
 deeds of mercy to the poor, the needy and the afflict- 
 ed, of his struggles in the garden of his bloody 
 death and prayer of forgiveness for his enemies all 
 these features in the Redeemer's character, -were pre- 
 sented in a spirit which found a lodgment in the sto- 
 niest heart. His prayers burned with the same in- 
 spired eloquence, and as he bowed his venerable form 
 to the floor, and lifted it again, with his cheeks wet 
 with tears, it seemed as if his great heart throbbed 
 under the very throne of his Master in Heaven. None 
 knew the man, or whence he came. 
 
 The revivalist had not been in Oakvale a day before 
 he learned the history of the last few years, and it 
 was whispered that he had been seen wandering in 
 the old church-yard on the clear moonlight evenings. 
 On the night of his arrival he visited the jail where 
 Brayton was confined, and was promptly admitted to 
 see the prisoner. 
 
 The sun had set, but the crimson glow in the west 
 was reflected in the cell where Walter sat, watching 
 
 ' O 
 
 through the high-grated window the receding day- 
 light. The prisoner turned as the door creaked on its 
 binges, and the revivalist stood before him. ,
 
 A GROUPING OF SCENES. 
 
 " Have I the happiness of seeing Walter Bray ton ? *' 
 he asked, in a tone of great sweetness. 
 
 " Who is it that is happy to see that individual in 
 a dungeon and in chains, may I ask ? " said Walter, 
 with bitterness. 
 
 "A friend. Glad to see him, but not to find him 
 thus," replied the revivalist with sadness, as he ad- 
 vanced and took the prisoner's hand firmly in his 
 own. There was a magnetism in the grasp and in the 
 watery eye which met his own, and the prisoner felt 
 that the stranger was a friend. 
 
 " I am a poor, humble Methodist preacher, just in 
 the place, and hastened to visit those in prison. I 
 hope I am not unwelcome ? " 
 
 Walter did not resist the influence of the man's 
 tone and manner, for he felt drawn towards him, and 
 conversed with him as he never had conversed with 
 but one before. Ere he was aware, he had fully and 
 frankly rehearsed the history of the last few years 
 his attachment to Minnie Herinon and their rupture ; 
 his trial and the result. 
 
 "And you are innocent?" 
 
 "As the angels in Heaven, of the crime for which 
 I am condemned." 
 
 " I believe you ; and if I can do anything to unravel 
 this dark plot, rest assured it shall be done. But of 
 one thing let me assure you : you wrong Minnie Her- 
 mon. I have had occasion to know something of that 
 woman, and a truer, nobler creature never honored
 
 442 MESnOE HERMON. 
 
 her sex. You will find plotting there, as well as in 
 other matters." 
 
 A new light broke upon Walter's mind, and his 
 spirit was lighter for a long time after the revivalist 
 had left the prisoner. 
 
 An hour passed away, and the cell door again 
 swung back upon its hinges, the lamp in the jailer's 
 hand revealing a female figure deeply muffled. There 
 was a hesitancy in her movements, but as Gaston put 
 the lamp upon the rude table, she advanced to where 
 the prisoner yet sat, and stood before him. He no- 
 ticed that she trembled, her features yet carefully 
 concealed from him. Slowly turning towards the 
 door, as if to satisfy herself that the jailer had de- 
 parted, she lifted the hood and vail from her head 
 and face, and dropped on her knees before the pris- 
 oner. 
 
 " Minnie Hermon 1 " 
 
 " Walter Brayton 1 " 
 
 "And you do not believe me guilty of this dark 
 crime, Minnie, and forgive me that I have so deeply 
 injured you? " 
 
 " I know you are not guilty. If you were, I could 
 forgive you a thousand times I " 
 
 " But may I ask why that emphasis on the word 
 1 know'?" 
 
 " Oh, God ! how horrible ! and the oath, the 
 oath/" and she shuddered, and covered her iace,
 
 A GROUPING OF SCENES. 443 
 
 " What do you mean what oath ? I cannot un- . 
 derstand you." 
 
 " Do you believe," she asked, looking wildly around 
 and not heeding his questions, " that we are bound 
 to keep an oath when extorted by - by violence 
 by a knife at the " 
 
 " Mr. Lane wishes to ask Mr. Brayton one ques- 
 tion," said the jailer, as he came to the cell door. 
 Minnie sprang to her feet as if the voice had been 
 an adder's hiss, and rushed to the door, beseeching 
 Gaston in frantic whispers to let her go. 
 
 " That Lane must not see me here, or he is lost ! " 
 exclaimed she. 
 
 Lane made some trivial inquiry and immediately 
 left. It was long before Walter found rest, so swiftly 
 did new and strange thoughts rush across his mind. 
 
 That oath ! What could that mean ?
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 A STAB m THE EAST THE PLAGUE STAYED. 
 
 " LOST ! forever lost ! " sighed a man in tattered 
 garments, and his face bloated with rum, as he pulled 
 his broken hat over his eyes and turned sadly away, 
 and passed down the steps of the Capitol. 
 
 "God forgive them ! but there is no hope for the 
 widow now ! " ejaculated an emaciated woman in tat- 
 tered garb, as with quivering lip she drew her thread- 
 bare blanket closely around her shoulders, and disap- 
 peared in the crowd. Her only child was in jail for 
 drunkenness, while she had crept in to witness the 
 scene below. The last hope had been crushed out 
 from her heart, as she heard, clear and distinct in the 
 stillness, " The bill is lost ! " 
 
 u My children at home ! We must starve and 
 freeze before summer comes again," whispered a wife 
 and mother in accents of despair, as she stood gazing 
 from the gallery, her thin arms folded, and a heavy 
 eya watery with tears she could not keep back. A 
 pale, delicate-looking girl, with sharp, pinched fea- 
 tures, dress torn at the bottom, and her legs bare 
 and red from the cold, stood clinging to the mother's 
 dress and watching the scene with a vacant stare.
 
 A STAB IN THE EAST. 445 
 
 The crowd were pouring out of the chamber as the 
 wretched looking creature aroused from her reverie, 
 and dragged the child away by the hand. None 
 knew how dark was the shadow which that hour 
 gloomed in the pauper's heart, and hung over the 
 hearth of her cellar home. How could she wrestle 
 longer with the plague which had scourged her ? 
 
 " And father must die a drunkard, Mary," said a 
 boy of twelve years, he and his sister turning and go- 
 ing out arm in arm. The two were motherless ; and 
 since she had taken their hands in her cold palm and 
 commended them to God, they had not known a kind 
 word at home. They had heard that drunkenness was 
 to be stopped that day, and had mingled with the 
 throng and found a place in the Capitol. God pity 
 the legislator who that day said " Yes," to the busi- 
 ness which has robbed the innocents of their mother 
 and plunged them into beggary. 
 
 " O that it had passed," came in an almost inaudi- 
 ble whisper, from a beautiful young female, her fair 
 form buried in costly furs, and a ring of great bril- 
 liancy glancing upon her slender finger. Her cheek 
 was fair, but there was a canker at the core, and there 
 were stains from the heavy lid where bitter drops had 
 stood. She was a child of wealth and fashion, and a 
 bride ; but she had found a dark stream gliding be- 
 neath the idol of her heart. The belle and heiress 
 went forth with a heart as sad as the saddest, for she 
 too had entered the Capitol to see the plague stayed. 
 
 " Would that my boy were dead, for I cannot save
 
 4:46 MINNIE IIEKMON. 
 
 him now ! " said a wealthy and distinguished citizen 
 with tremulous voice and compressed lip, looking 
 down upon those to whom he had looked for help, 
 and nervously fingering his gold-headed cane. He 
 spoke of an only son who had plunged deeply into 
 dissipation, and but for his family connection, would 
 have been sent to prison for forgery. The old man 
 had wealth, but dared not look into the future, for 
 he feared the worst to his reckless and drunken boy. 
 
 " Traitors cursed traitors I " muttered a rumseller, 
 glaring upon those who had belied their profession 
 as Christians, and their duties as parents and citizens. 
 The man's heart had not been all calloused in a bad 
 business. His better nature revolted at the traffic, 
 and he had eagerly hoped that the whole system 
 would have been swept from the land. 
 
 "Well, Mayor, this is glorious, ain't it? We're 
 
 good for another year, G d d n 'em ! Let's 
 
 go over to Congress Hall and take something," ex- 
 ultingly exclaimed a dealer, as he slapped an old 
 distiller familiarly on the shoulder, and then linking 
 their arms together, they passed out and turned to tho 
 left. 
 
 " Well," said one of a knot of men standing back 
 of the desks, " we are beaten here, but we will carry 
 it up to the tribunal of the people. Many of these 
 men who have been thus recreant to humanity and 
 right, will come not again to the Capitol. Hereafter 
 we will send up our petitions through the ballot box." 
 
 " Aye, aye, that we will," was the response from
 
 A STAB IN THE EAST. 447 
 
 stern men, as groups lingered about and discussed the 
 great measure which had been watched with so much 
 interest by the people of a great State. 
 
 As the news spread from the Capitol, there went 
 sadness to thousands of hearts. Three hundred thou- 
 sand men, women and children, had petitioned against 
 the plague, but to see their appeal answered with de- 
 liberate insult. The popular storm had swept around 
 the Capitol. The heart of the commonwealth had 
 beat up against its pillars. Humanity, crushed and 
 bleeding, had dragged her form to the porch, and 
 plead with the eloquence of ten thousand bruised 
 and bleeding sufferers, but to be pierced anew by 
 legislative Iscariots, amid the jeers and laughter of 
 the emissaries of an accursed traffic. 
 
 After all other measures had failed, a new one had 
 been brought out by the hand of a good Providence. 
 A star had arisen in the east. A sovereign State had 
 flung out a new banner, and given a new battle cry 
 to the retrograding hosts of the reform. At one stroke 
 the traffic had been annihilated in that State. The 
 news flashed through the Union, and everywhere kin- 
 dled enthusiasm and hope. The heart of a Christian 
 people throbbed responsive to the shout from Maine, 
 and to the peal of one common war-cry, rallied in 
 solid phalanx. " Pass this law," said a drunkard in 
 Oakvale, " and I may be saved. Now I cannot come 
 to mill or to church without getting drunk. Give ua 
 this law, and I can die a sober man, and, I hope, go 
 to Heaven. Without it I am lost.'' And so thou-
 
 448 MINNIE HEBMON. 
 
 sands of drunkards turned their eyes to the new light 
 in the east, as to a brazen serpent which should heal 
 them. Nothing else could. Even the eloquent Gault 
 had been tempted and crushed for a time, while thou- 
 sands of stars of lesser ray had set in impenetrable 
 gloom, unnoticed. The measure had been tried in 
 New- York, and had failed ; and the storm was already 
 gathering in blackness, to burst again, and sweep down 
 upon the Capitol. 
 
 Firm for God and the right, the people went to the 
 ballot boxes throughout the land, and put up their pe- 
 titions. The issue was there tried, and the right tri- 
 umphed ! Men worked for their families, country and 
 the right, instead of party, and voted for legislators 
 whom they could petition for a prohibitory law with- 
 out a blush. The recreancy of the former legislature 
 had vibrated to every part of the State, and had been 
 answered by a stern and unmistakable response. 
 
 Dense masses were darkening the streets in the vi- 
 cinity of the Capitol, and their heavy tread was music 
 in the ears of the despairing. There was a moral 
 sublimity in this gathering of the people as they came 
 from their homes and business avocations to witness 
 the result of their November strife. The white-haired 
 sire mingled with the vigorous middle-aged, and the 
 enthusiastic youth. Women and neatly-dressed chil- 
 dren were wending their way up the hill. Banners 
 were waving, the music swelled up from the bands, 
 and a voice like the low murmur of many waters
 
 A STAR IN THE EAST. 449 
 
 came up from the masses. A long procession, made 
 up of citizen soldiers in the great moral conflict, and 
 deserters from all political parties, beat the ground 
 to the music of the bands. One vast, throbbing mass 
 a living tide of American citizens and freemen, 
 calmly but sternly, and with steady steps, filed around 
 the corners, and swept in unbroken column through 
 the streets, and emerged into State street and rolled 
 up towards the capitol buildings, one common purpose 
 throbbing to the music from end to end. At the Capi- 
 tol the wave swept to the left, swaying onward and 
 onward until the vast architectural pile was hedged 
 with steady ranks, and the head of the column dashed 
 against its kindred wave, and then rolled grandly up 
 the Capitol steps. 
 
 The scene within the Capitol was one for a lifetime. 
 There was grandeur there ; for the choice spirits of a 
 great State had gathered to witness the deliberations 
 of their servants, and to present their petitions in per- 
 son. A vast and unbroken sea of heads appeared 
 everywhere, and without came up the murmur of the 
 voices of those who could find no entrance. Wealth 
 and fashion had already secured a position, and thickly 
 sprinkled throughout the mass were the sad-looking 
 and the poorly clad mothers, wives and children, 
 who had again assembled to see whether they were 
 to be shielded from their woes. The legislators looked 
 thoughtfully upon the array, save now and then a red- 
 faced, brawling demagogue, who tried his pot-house
 
 4:50 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 wit or coarse slang upon the people, who mirxded not 
 his bloated and insolent features. 
 
 Permission had been granted several of the cham- 
 pions of the reform to occupy the floor of the cham- 
 ber in advocacy of a prohibitory measure. John 
 Gault, once a gutter drunkard, slowly lifted his slen- 
 der form, and in low, but 'distinct and silvery tones, 
 addressed the representatives of the people. What a 
 trophy had been wrenched from the destroyer when 
 that man was saved ! "With tones of wondrous magic 
 and depth, his words rolled out and reached every 
 heart in that immense audience. He kindled as he 
 progressed, his words glowing and burning with the 
 true eloquence of nature. Then was witnessed the 
 power of one of nature's orators. He swayed the au- 
 dience at will. They smiled, or wept, or frowned in 
 stern indignation. His scenes passed before them 
 like fearful realities, and many a cheek paled as he 
 described the effects of intemperance upon the drunk- 
 ard and his home. Shudders at times crept over the 
 strongest frames, and eyes unused to weeping flood- 
 ed at a touch of his pathos. He plead for the drunk- 
 ards of the land with all the heart-fervor of one who 
 had felt the scourge. Anon he poured down the most 
 withering invective upon the traffic, towering and 
 swaying as the storm howled and the lightning leaped 
 from his quivering finger, and the large drops stand- 
 ing out upon his brow. Such was John Gault, and 
 as he closed with an appeal which has never been sur-
 
 A STAR IN THE EAST. 4:51 
 
 passed, each auditor feared to stir, so deep had been 
 the spell of the master. 
 
 And there was Halton, too the grey-headed, true 
 and iron-hearted reformer. His warm and rugged 
 eloquence, though less brilliant than that of his broth- 
 er reformer, had that sledge-hammer earnestness and 
 strength which told deeply for the right. 
 
 A senator then came forward and addressed the 
 people. In that tall, noble-appearing man, we recog- 
 nized our friend from the southern tier, introduced to 
 the reader in the commencement of our history, Mr. 
 Fenton. We awaited eagerly his words, for he was the 
 champion of the prohibitionists in the Senate. 
 
 He was a strong man, and full of fire. His blows 
 crushed like bolts, as with resistless logic and rare 
 eloquence he hailed them upon the traffic. His full, 
 dark eye kindled, while now and then he drew him- 
 self up to his full height, and with his thin lip curling 
 with scorn, he swooped down upon the positions of 
 the opposition. 
 
 " But we are told," said he, " that this measure is 
 not demanded by the people that it will ruin the 
 temperance cause by reaction. How long since rum- 
 sellers, distillers, rum-treating demagogues and legis- 
 lators of easy virtue, who were elected by the rum 
 interest, have been the exclusive friends of temper- 
 ance 2 From the earliest period of our reform, as I 
 very well know, these classes have found fault with 
 all the measures adopted for the extinction of intem- 
 perance, and bitterly opposed them. And yet they
 
 452 * MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 now presume to dictate what course shall be pursned ! 
 This measure is needed. The people demand it. 
 It is in vain to hope to remove the evil by regulation. 
 The present law is an admission of the right to legis- 
 late, and the power which brought this wrong into 
 legal being, has a right to remove it. The history 
 of the reform shows that it is in vain to roll back tho 
 evil while it has its fountain in the legislature. 
 Drunkards are reformed and restored to their fami- 
 lies but to be tempted and at last destroyed. "We 
 chain them down to the rock of appetite, and then 
 let loose a swarm of vultures to pluck their vitals. 
 You may as well expect to legalize the circulation of 
 the plague and expect no one to die with it, as to le- 
 galize the rum-traffic and expect none to become 
 drunkards. No moral barrier can save the inebriate, 
 his family and home from the consequences of a 
 wrong which is set in operation by law. 
 
 " But this is a moral question. So it is, and a legiti- 
 mate question for legislation. It concerns the dearest 
 interests of society the happiness, good order, mor- 
 ality and prosperity of a great people. Moral ques- 
 tions of far inferior moment have been legislated upon, 
 and none have complained. Many of the evils that 
 are suppressed by strong penal enactments, in three- 
 fourths of the cases, spring directly from the rum- 
 traffic. The existing law is an answer to this objec- 
 tion. The traffic stands branded as an evil one of 
 such magnitude that laws have been enacted to guard 
 society from its full influence.
 
 A STAR IN THE EAST. 453 
 
 ""We hear much of liberty and natural rights. 
 The worst outlaws in society would joy, sir, to hear 
 the doctrines advanced on this floor. I am yet to 
 learn that liberty is unbridled license, or natural 
 rights a code for civilized and Christian people, & 
 here proclaimed. Governments are formed by a 
 surrender of certain natural rights, and the weak are 
 protected in that compact as well as the strong. The 
 strongest arm does not then rule, nor the pistol and 
 knife remain the umpires between man and man. 
 Rumsellers are not the only members of that com- 
 pact, and they would not dare to have society plunged 
 into chaos, and each member run his chance. Were 
 this so, God knows that the wrongs of many a heart 
 and home would have been most signally avenged. 
 Dissolve society, and woe betide the rumsellers. A 
 man may dig a pit, but not to entrap a neighbor. Ha 
 may let an unruly ox run, if there are none to injure. 
 He may build his mill-dam, slaughter-house or soap- 
 factory, if they do not injure the public. He may 
 keep powder, if lives are not endangered ; or publish 
 obscene books, if there are none to read them ; or 
 breed rattlesnakes and mad-dogs, if there are none 
 to be bitten ; he may do all this by natural right, 
 but the moment he becomes a member of the social 
 compact, his course would injure others ; and one 
 man's interests are never to be pushed to the destruc- 
 tion of those of his neighbors. If he goes into socie- 
 ty, he is bound to regard the welfare and rights of 
 the whole ; if he will not, let him assume the posi-
 
 454: MINNIE HERMOX. 
 
 tion of an outlaw, and depend upon the exercise of 
 his natural rights for the protection of himself and 
 property. Why, sir, this law is no new thing. It 
 is as old as the creation of man. Its principles are 
 laid in the sublime fabric of Divine government. 
 They were graven upon the tables of stone they shine 
 forth in revelation they throb in the great heart of 
 our common humanity they are recognized and 
 built upon in every civilized government in the 
 world. Hunt through the statutes of Christendom 
 to-day, and you will find the principles of the Maine 
 Law in all its length and breadth, and height and 
 depth. It is the great principle of the general wel- 
 fare the law of God, of love, justice and truth, ev- 
 erywhere brought out in Divine government. Pri- 
 vate interest must always give way to the common 
 good. The pit must be filled up or guarded ; the un- 
 ruly ox must be killed or pounded ; his mill-dam 
 must be drained ; his slaughter-house and soap-factory 
 pulled down, his powder and obscene books destroyed, 
 his dogs and snakes muzzled or killed. In fine, sir, 
 that is a most damnable, anti-republican principle 
 which demands that the good of a whole -community 
 shall be sacrificed that individuals may have unbri 
 died license in their selfishness, and prosper in wick- 
 edness. It is a principle which would scatter plague, 
 and cover the earth with rotting dead, that doctors, 
 sextons and undertakers might grow rich. It is a 
 principle which has filled our homes with desolation, 
 ruined the living, and damned the dead.
 
 A STAK IN THE EAST. 455 
 
 " But we are told that we cannot legislate men 
 into morality can coax, but not coerce. Ever since 
 God's will has been revealed to man, penal laws have 
 existed. One would suppose, to hear the opposition 
 declaim, that this earth had suddenly become a Par- 
 adise, and its inhabitants angels. They do not stop 
 to tell us that all men are not susceptible of moral in- 
 fluences that but for penal laws, men would yet 
 steal their fellows, rob the traveler, plunder graves, 
 burn and butcher. "With all our safeguards, educa- 
 ted by intemperance and its kindred vices, crimes of 
 every dye continue to blacken our criminal records. 
 Every penal enactment is a coercive measure. The 
 mind revolts from their repeal, or the regulation, of 
 these crimes farming out for silver, the right to a few 
 of plundering property and destroying life. We co- 
 erce every enemy of society. If caught violating any 
 of its ordinances, he is punished. The provisions of 
 this bill, Sir, are no more arbitrary than our present 
 statutes. The rights of the citizen, the sanctity of his 
 property, liberty, or dwelling, are not more jeopard- 
 ized than now. If stolen goods are believed to be 
 secreted in a dwelling, it is searched from cellar to 
 garret, and no complaint made. The counterfeiters' 
 or gamblers' den is searched, their tools destroyed, 
 and they punished. The one but gambles for money 
 with an equal chance ; the dealer gambles for the 
 money of his victim, with appetite to aid him in the 
 play. The counterfeiter turns out a bogus dollar : 
 
 the dealer counterfeits the image of God, and adulte- 
 19
 
 456 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 rates immortal coin. Is a spurious half-dollar more 
 dangerous to society than an imbruted and beggared 
 citizen ? And yet you imprison the one who corrupts 
 your coin, and give the other the right to corrupt and 
 blight every pure current in the hearts of your peo- 
 ple. The dealer would resort to the coercion of legal 
 process, were a five-dollar counterfeit bill to be put 
 off' upon him, and yet he claims the natural liberty of 
 BO marring the moral beauty of his own kind, and of 
 blighting their manhood that a demon stands in the 
 place of a kind and high-minded citizen ! Who has 
 ever complained of the exercise of law for the pro- 
 tection of the health of community ? Are not many 
 kinds of food interdicted, the diseased citizen forcibly 
 seized and thrust into the pest-house, the vessel com- 
 pelled to lie in quarantine, or its cargo destroyed and 
 even the vessel itself sunk, if the public health de- 
 mands the measure ? Does not our government, in 
 time of war, quarter troops in our dwellings, appro- 
 priate stores and teams, and compel the citizen to as- 
 sist? Such measures are arbitrary ; but when the 
 public interest demands them, the patriot will not 
 complain. 
 
 "Again. We are told that the law cannot be en- 
 forced without bloodshed and violence the present 
 law is sufficient. I believe, Sir, the American people 
 are preeminently law-abiding. They are familiar 
 with the democratic doctrine of the majority. When- 
 ever public sentiment assumes power to force from 
 reluctant legislators a law for the protection of the
 
 A STAK IN THE EAST. 457 
 
 people from a terrible evil, is it not believed that they 
 will see that it is enforced ? The law has been en- 
 forced. It is no longer an experiment. It has been 
 tried, and its success has become a matter of history. 
 "Without violence or bloodshed, the people of a neigh- 
 boring State crushed the evil at a blow ! And were 
 a thousand lives to be sacrificed in carrying into effect 
 a law like this, their blood would be but the drop in 
 the ocean, when compared with that which ha.s for 
 ages smoked upon Christian altars. The cry of mur- 
 der comes on every wind ; crime stalks upon the heels 
 of crime at midday ; from its Aceldemas red-handed 
 butchery runs with its smoking blade to the commis- 
 sion of fresh atrocities, until our criminal records are 
 crimson with hot gore, and the scaffold casts its shad- 
 ow in every part of the land. Our dungeons swarm 
 with murderers, and thence the slayer's feet are con- 
 tinually beating their way to the gibbet, until the de- 
 tails of murder and execution are as familiar to our 
 people as the newspapers which come to their dwell- 
 ings. And those who manufacture all these butchers 
 are going to resist, to the knife, the enactment which 
 shuts up these schools of crime ! As to the present 
 law, it is the merest humbug that ever outraged a 
 Christian people. It is a stupendous farce, as also an 
 infamous wrong. It is a compromise between good 
 and evil with iniquity a yoking of saint and 
 devil a compound of heaven and hell an infer- 
 nal adulteration which lifts up and legalizes wrong, 
 and pulls down the right a draping of the three-
 
 4:58 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 mouthed dog of the pit in the habiliments of a guard- 
 ian angel, to stand and smile at the door-sills of the 
 pits on earth. The principle would associate the 
 arch fiend with Deity on the throne of Heaven, and 
 mingle the wails of the lost with the praises of the 
 redeemed. It would unite the worlds of bliss and of 
 woe, and place angels on a footing with devils. Sir, 
 does God, in his government, recognize such a prin- 
 ciple ? Do his laws regulate theft, swearing, perjury, 
 murder, &c. ? Do his retributions slumber when so- 
 called respectable men trample upon his laws ? Do 
 his penalties fall without modification upon the most 
 abandoned, while sinners of " good moral " character 
 enter in and dwell at his right hand ? Does he strike 
 hands with iniquity ? Can those who have wealth, 
 and power, and respectability, transgress his com- 
 mandments, and go unpunished ? Where, in any civ 
 ilized government now existing on earth, is this prin- 
 ciple made the basis of legislation, save in the legali- 
 zation of the ruin traffic ? Supposing, Sir, that the 
 legislature should legalize the crimes which are now 
 punishable with imprisonment and death for the pur- 
 pose of restraining them ? That they should empower . 
 a selection of good moral men to perpetrate those 
 crimes, so as to have the perpetration legal, moral, 
 and respectable ? That men should be selected to rob, 
 to steal, to gamble, to counterfeit, to commit forgery, 
 to burn buildings, to murder? The most common 
 intelligence would revolt at the damning wickedness ; 
 and treat such legislators as madmen or knaves. The
 
 A. STAK IN THE EAST. 4:59 
 
 popular breath would at once sweep them into lasting 
 infamy. Yet the license system is a creature of legal 
 enactment, and stands before the world this day as the 
 great fountain-head of nearly all the crimes which 
 endanger the peace and blacken the character of socie- 
 ty. Men are selected to engage in this traffic, and the 
 government sells the accursed ' indulgence.' If but 
 a good moral character is endorsed by the excise 
 commissioners, the seller becomes a state officer a 
 legal instrument a servant of the people, empow- 
 ered to nerve the villain's arm which carries the torch 
 or lifts the knife, to burn or to destroy. He scatters 
 firebrands and death throughout the land, blights 
 hopes as bright as bliss, destroys happiness the holiest 
 and purest, and sweeps on like an avenging storm, 
 until all that is pure in childhood, noble in manhood, 
 ar venerable in old age, is withered and crushed to 
 earth. Life, happiness, and hope ; virtue, love and 
 truth, are alike blasted by these men, selected by the 
 State, and protected by its laws. And all this to 
 restrain and regulate the traffic! The policy is 
 wrong in motive, impolitic in principle, atrocious in 
 its execution, and most cruel in its consequences. It 
 is a principle so damnable in its conception and char- 
 acter, and so sweeping and remorseless in its destruc- 
 tion of human happiness and life, that it may well 
 crimson the cheek of an American freeman with 
 deepest shame. Regulation and restraint ! 
 
 " Sir, in the days when indulgences were sold, 
 when every kind of ^vice was licensed and regulated,
 
 4:60 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 this abomination would not have been out of place, 
 though more thoroughly infamous than any of its kin- 
 dred iniquities. Mark these inconsistencies the 
 inefficiency of the law in securing the object designed, 
 and its demoralizing influence upon public sentiment, 
 and its legal waste of happiness and life and blush 
 that so foul a stain has a resting-place upon the stat- 
 ute books of our people. We go upon the principle 
 of choosing a good man to engage in a devilish busi- 
 ness. We give respectability to a business denounced 
 by God ; a business which crushes the rights of hu- 
 manity and destroys the sanctity of religion, its every 
 footstep smoking with the hot blood of the hearts it 
 has crushed. Our commissioners would appear as 
 honorable, and far more humane, if they were to select 
 men of good moral character to steal, burn, and kill, 
 and do society far less injury. 
 
 " There is a regulation, in the matter of selling to 
 drunkards. Indeed, the license law is professedly to 
 restrain intemperance. Need I point you to the re- 
 sults ? Whence come this vast army of drunkards, 
 who throng every avenue of life, and with ceaseless 
 tread move on to the grave ? Where are the foun- 
 tains which feed this stream of wrecked humanity? 
 Where is the cause ? Day and night, from year to 
 year, the unbroken columns move on. The grave 
 swallows forty thousand in twelve months. The sod 
 has hardly closed upon a fearful sacrifice, before its 
 cold arms are thrown up to embrace as many more. 
 And so this host moves on. Recruits are ever enlist-
 
 A STAR m THE EAST. 461 
 
 ing. The youth in the saloon takes the drunkard's 
 place. And so back until the legions are wrapt in the 
 sunlight of youth, the diorama of life is moving. And 
 so it has moved for ages that measured and gloomy 
 tramp taking hold upon dishonored death. Rumsell- 
 ers never wish men to die drunkards, and, under a 
 wise law, never sell to drunkards. And so we ' regu- 
 late ' whole armies of human beings into premature 
 graves every year that rolls around. When when, 
 Sir, will intemperance be so regulated by our present 
 system that our green land shall not become one vast 
 burial-ground for drunkards ? 
 
 " We are told that the sale is justifiable, because 
 the license money goes into the treasury ! This poli- 
 cy furnishes us with another strong reason why the 
 whole system should be removed. It is one of the 
 strongest arguments against legalizing the traffic. The 
 principle involved is one of unadulterated wickedness. 
 Government thus assumes the attitude of a speculator 
 in the lives and happiness of its subjects. With one 
 arm it thrusts its victims upon the begrimmed altars, 
 and with the other grasps eagerly for the price of the 
 sacrifice. Here it stands upon its pedestal of the 
 heart-broken, the dying, and the dead, a remorseless 
 Moloch enthroned, and smiling upon the enginery of 
 death which, for gain, it has set in motion. There is 
 something hideous, something revolting in the aspect. 
 Like an unnatural parent, it destroys its own for a 
 price. Those whom it should guard and protect are 
 thrust beneath the ponderous wheels which roll in
 
 462 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 ruin. Men, women, and children ; youth in the buoy- 
 ancy of its hopes, and old age in its locks of gray, are 
 alike offered up. Society thus immolates all its most 
 cherished interests for pay, and secures to itself the 
 glorious privilege of bearing ten-fold burdens, build- 
 ing poor-houses and prisons, and digging graves. It 
 sells the lives of its own citizens. Christian men sit 
 down deliberately and say to those who wish to sell 
 rum, in so many words, ' How many pieces of silver 
 will you give us if we will betray these women and 
 children into your hands ? ' All this is cool and de- 
 liberately cruel. Life and all its bright hopes are 
 thus bartered away, while an oath sits heavy on the 
 soul. Do not your cheeks tinge with shame as you 
 take in the length and breadth of this policy ? Even 
 in a pecuniary point of view it is ruinous. For every 
 dollar thus received, hundreds are paid out. It is a 
 fearful and perpetual drain upon the substance of the 
 people. Evils are sown broadcast, and we reap a 
 burdening harvest of woe, want, crime and death. 
 All that we cherish in this world and hope for in the 
 next, is put in the scale with dollars and cents. For 
 five or ten dollars, a man is delegated to scatter a 
 moral plague throughout the land, and fatten upon 
 the substance of the people. Let our commissioners 
 look at the silver they have received. It is the tribute 
 of blood. It has been wrung from the crushed hearts 
 of the ruined, and is clammy with drops of blood. It 
 is hot with the scalding tears of widowhood and or- 
 phanage. As it falls into the public coffers, its dul]
 
 A STAR IN THE EAST. 463 
 
 sound echoes the wail of the famished and defense- 
 less. Ho ! for the price of hloocl ! Hoard it well ; 
 for an ever-living and watchful God has put its cost 
 on record. Over against it, to be tested at the tri- 
 bunal of the Judgment, stands the record of the un- 
 utterable evils of the rum-traffic. And as witnesses 
 against it, will stand the myriads whom the policy 
 destroyed on earth. 
 
 " You talk of property this evil wars upon all 
 property. It paralyzes industry, thus working deep 
 and irreparable injury to individual and national 
 prosperity. Its cost to the American people is hardly 
 to be comprehended in all its extent. The direct cost 
 is enough to arouse the patriot against it ; indirectly, 
 its corroding effects leave their blighting mildew 
 wherever it exists.' Our poor-expenses tower until 
 the people groan under their weight. The hard earn- 
 ings of the tax-payers of the country are annually as- 
 sessed to meet the cost of the sale of rum. The fam- 
 ily is beggared, and the people support them. The 
 drunkard ruins his health, breaks a limb, or sustains 
 some injury from his drinking habits, and becomes a 
 public charge. A citizen wastes his substance in the 
 dram-shop, and from one gradation of vice to another, 
 at last becomes a criminal. If he counterfeits, com- 
 mits forgery or burglary, the people try him and 
 foot the bills. If, inflamed by the people's rum, he 
 thrusts the torch into the city at night, thousands are 
 licked up by the flames ; and if the incendiary is 
 caught, he is imprisoned or hung, and the forbearing
 
 464: MINNIE 1IEKMON. 
 
 people foot the bills. If, in a drunken broil, he takes 
 the life of a fellow-being, the people try him, hang 
 him, and foot the Mil. Thus circles round the great 
 maelstrom. From the bar-room to the alms-house, 
 prison and scaffold, a great highway has been cast 
 up, beaten hard by continually thronging thousands. 
 Every day's history records a fresh crime. Our pris- 
 ons are thronged. The executioner is busy hanging 
 up the effects of the traffic. The blood-offering of one 
 murder ceases not to smoke upon the glutted shrine, 
 before another victim is prepared from the bar-room. 
 The press teems with the sickening details. The great 
 fountain-head of crime sweeps on with increasing vol- 
 ume, and red-handed murder stalks forth even at 
 noonday, with the axe and the knife hot with gore. 
 Lesser crimes' swarm like locusts, all combining and 
 swelling an amount of tax which is drawn from the 
 life-blood of the people. The rum-traffic costs the 
 American people more than three hundred millions 
 of dollars. And this is the pecuniary aspect, merely. 
 This annual drain would bind our land in one unbro- 
 ken net-work of railroads, telegraphs and canals ; dot 
 every hill-side with school-houses and churches ; erect 
 charitable institutions wherever afflicted humanity 
 groans under misfortune, and make the blessings of 
 education as free as the air we breathe. Patriotism 
 that love of country, its institutions, and people, 
 which beats warmly and truly in the heart should 
 awaken our strongest opposition to a cancer which 
 eats so fatally upon the business interests of the laud
 
 A STAK IN THE EAST. 465 
 
 we live in. We might enlarge upon this point, but 
 it needs it not. Trace back the history of any com- 
 munity, and you will be astonished at the amount of 
 its waste. Sift your tax-lists, and it will be found that 
 the cost of the rum-traffic is one of the most grinding 
 burdens borne by the American people. What a po- 
 sition for a nation of freemen ! Sacrificing the prop- 
 erty .and health of its citizens for the pastime of sup- 
 porting them as paupers ! Our people are liberal to 
 a few. They foster vice and a crime, that a few may 
 reap a pecuniary harvest. They make paupers, and 
 build alms-houses to keep them at the public expense. 
 They manufacture criminals of every grade, and then 
 furnish officers to catch them, try them, and punish 
 them. They build prisons, and annually make large 
 appropriations to sustain them reservoirs where 
 they sweep in the criminals they have made, brand- 
 ing their own offspring with infamy, and compelling 
 them to toil for naught. They instigate murder, and 
 are at the expense of building a scaffold to hang the 
 guilty instruments of their creation. In fine, they 
 educate an army of children for all that is wicked, 
 and then punish them for putting their teaching into 
 practice. Were we a rumseller, we should look with 
 a smile of contempt upon such people. They would 
 give us the privilege of coining money out of the de- 
 struction of man's temporal and eternal interests, and 
 then kindly support all the paupers, and hang all the 
 murderers we might make, Such a policy in an in- 
 dividual would be madness. And so it is madness m
 
 466 MINNIE 1IERMON. 
 
 a great people. It is a heathenish offering up of theii 
 own vitals to the rending talons of the monster which 
 is enthroned in every drain-shop throughout the land. 
 Sir, we honor that high-toned, unbending love of lib- 
 erty and justice which characterized the conduct of 
 our revolutionary fathers. They put every thing at 
 stake, rather than bear the burdens of unjust taxa- 
 tion. War became to them one of the most imperi- 
 ous of human obligations, and the battle-field ' the 
 sublimest theatre of patriotic achievement and heroic 
 martyrdom.' They left their plows in the furrows, 
 and their homes to the protection of Heaven, and 
 grappled boldly with England's strength. That same 
 spirit would to-day make every true patriot's heart 
 beat high with indignation, and arouse a storm which 
 would forever destroy one of the most grinding op- 
 pressions on earth. The spirit which hurled the tea 
 into Boston harbor, would seize and destroy every 
 barrel of rum designed for the injury of society. 
 
 " The gentlemen on the other side have spoken elo- 
 quently about the vast amount of property invested 
 in tjie traffic. It is an unworthy argument. Were 
 the wealth of the universe of God staked in the traffic, 
 it should not weigh one moment. There are immor- 
 tal interests staked in human hearts. Mind and hap- 
 piness virtue, purity and peace, are worth more 
 than all the wealth of the material universe. The 
 weal of men here and hereafter, cannot be put into 
 the scale with dollars and cents. The crushed and 
 ruined the mother, wife or child, who has beeg
 
 A STAR IN THE EAST. 467 
 
 scourged and robbed, would turn with withering scorn 
 from the cold and heartless computation of her wrongs, 
 in money. The structures of earth pass away, but 
 the property of the mind ?s indestructible, and lifts 
 up proudly amid the ' wreck of matter,' and exists 
 while God exists ! There is something sad in wander- 
 ing among the ruins of empires where nations lie en- 
 tombed. More sad the scene of a mind in ruins. 
 
 " "We weep from a heavy heart as we see the gloom 
 of a rayless night gathering over the mind, and the 
 structure which was moulded by the hand of God 
 crumbling into ruins. The mind is property prop- 
 erty which is of more value than all the wealth of the 
 material universe. And here is where we find one of 
 the most startling effects of intemperance. Here is 
 where the system wars upon a class of property which 
 cannot be computed by dollars and cents. Here are 
 ruins, thickly strewn up and down the land, over 
 which the patriot, philanthropist and Christian can 
 weep with keenest sorrow. 
 
 "Sir, had I a constellation of worlds like this, I 
 would resign it all, if every star were a diamond of 
 priceless worth, if the slight sacrifice would buy the 
 loved and the lost from death and the grave. 
 
 " Sir, our wives and children demand this measure. 
 Humanity pleads this day. You protect the dead in 
 their graves, the trees in our parks, the animals in om 
 yards, the deer in our forests, and the fish in our wa- 
 ters ; and why not, by all that is brave, manly and 
 good, protect our homes, our wives and children?
 
 468 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 Tell me, Sir, why not? Look at the course of this 
 evil which we ask you, in behalf of suffering humani- 
 ty, to prohibit. 
 
 " It spares neither age nor sex. Its trophies are 
 more to be dreaded than those at the red man's 
 belt, snatched from the throbbing brow of innocence. 
 The system is cruel, mercilessly cruel. It wars upon 
 the defenceless upon women and children. Its most 
 desolating strife is at the fireside. We execrate it for 
 its cowardice, as well as its injustice and cruelty. 
 Those who are never seen abroad, and who never 
 lifted a hand or a voice against the seller, are crushed 
 down with remorseless coolness. If men alone were 
 destroyed, without wringing the hearts that are linked 
 with them, it would not seem so damnable. But why 
 should a Christian government and a Christian people 
 war upon the happiness of the defenseless inmates of 
 the household ? Why should woe and want be car- 
 ried into our homes? Why should our mothers, and 
 wives, and daughters be scourged until they weep 
 drops of blood ? Why should children be turned out 
 with no inheritance but orphanage and disgrace ? 
 Why should the props and pride of old hearts be 
 snatched away and broken ? Why in God's name 
 tell us ! in this land of plenty, where our barns gush 
 with fatness, where our fields groan under the har- 
 vests which roll like golden oceans to the kiss of the 
 sunbeams, and where an ever-kind Providence has 
 scattered his blessings on every hand, should women 
 and children go hungry for bread ? Why should cur
 
 A STAB IN THE EAST. 469 
 
 sons be turned out to be drawn into the whirlpool of 
 crime, and our daughters to forget all that's womanly, 
 and sink in vice for their daily bread ? Is this Chris- 
 tianlike ? Is it like freemen ? Why should our homes 
 be transformed into hells, and the husband and father 
 into a demon, to torture and kill ? Why must those 
 whom we love be torn with hunger and grief, that a 
 few men may fatten by selling rum ? 
 
 " I need not, Sir, speak to this body of the danger 
 to the purity of our elective franchise from the rum- 
 traffic all know it. The traffic is a foul, corroding 
 cancer upon this dear-bought boon the legacy of 
 revolutionary hardship and death. It was won at a 
 fearful cost. It is an anchor which shall hold in the 
 storm a bulwark behind which a people can gather 
 and hurl back destruction upon those recreant to free- 
 dom and to right. But it is prostituted to the basest 
 purposes, and trampled in the dust. It is wrenched 
 from its honorable and legitimate purpose, and upon 
 a tide of rum and corruption, made to bear bad men 
 into stations of emolument and trust. These facts are 
 written in the history of every election day which has 
 transpired since rum entered the field. There are 
 those who will recognize a more than ' fancy sketch ' 
 in our rapid hints. And is there nothing saddening, 
 nothing alarming, in this wide-spread corruption of 
 demagogism? With rum yoked in unholy alliance, 
 it stalks through the land, and stands in its huge and 
 damning deformity at the pools. It leans over the
 
 470 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 ballot-box with a leer of triumph. It comes forth 
 from the drunkeriesof the land, reeking with all that 
 is foul, and shouts its triumphs in the very citadel of 
 the popular will. Thus libertines, gamblers and 
 drunkards, slime into our town, county, State and na- 
 tional legislatures, and have to do with all the inter- 
 ests of the society in which we live. This tide must 
 be checked and rolled back. This accursing union 
 must be broken into pieces. The lightning of a peo- 
 ple's will must fall upon this demagogism, and crush 
 it to earth, or our freedom will be but a name, the 
 elective franchise but a badge of servitude, and the 
 pillars of our free institutions will roll like dust before 
 the storm. 
 
 "Yes, as God is our judge, were there no other rea- 
 son, we should arouse for a conflict with the rum in- 
 terest for the evil it has done and is doing to the purity, 
 stability, character and permanency of our cherished 
 political institutions. Here is enough to alarm. And 
 yet a large class of the American people slumber 
 without concern over this crater, which is charged 
 with violence and anarchy. Were we to point to the 
 most threatening dangers to the prosperity of these 
 States and the perpetuity of their free institutions, we 
 should single out that class of evils, of Protean phase, 
 which breed in foul luxuriance in the rum-shops of 
 our land. 
 
 " But I will not detain this body too long, though 
 I believe this bill to be one of the most important
 
 A STAR IN THE EAST. 471 
 
 that ever claimed the attention of a deliberative body. 
 The world is watching the course of these States upon 
 this question. Interests as lasting as eternity, are in- 
 volved. The homes of this great commonwealth this 
 day contain anxious hearts, and prayers are going up 
 that the right may triumph. By our love of virtue 
 and good order, of domestic happiness and peace 
 home and its circle our own green land, and God ; 
 by every sacred and hallowing tie which binds the 
 good man to his hearth 'altars, kindred, country and 
 Heaven, let us obey the people and our own conscien- 
 ces, and vote for this bill ; and so shall the whole land 
 be filled with joy and thanksgiving, the fire be again 
 kindled on the desolate hearth, and hope, in the sor- 
 rowing heart ; men shall get drunk no more ; peace, 
 happiness and hope shall smile again in the dark hab- 
 itations ; the waste places shall be made glad, and 
 the wilderness blossom as the rose, our stricken wives 
 and mothers weep, and their children at the hearth 
 clap their tiny hands for joy ! " 
 
 The throng slowly dispersed, but as the sun was set- 
 ting in the unclouded west, the starry sheet above the 
 Capitol rolled out more proudly than was wont, and 
 upon the wings of lightning the news was flashed to 
 the north, south, east and west, the " MAINE LAW BILL 
 HAS PASSED ! " 
 
 " Too late ! " said our old widow friend of the pre- 
 vious winter, but the old drunkard was there, and sat
 
 472 MINNIE HERMOKT. 
 
 down upon the steps of the Capitol, and wept like a 
 child. Throughout the State, the mother hugged her 
 child to her bosom with a thrill of gladness, and 
 from the home altars of a Christian people, glad 
 hearts lifted their benisons to the God of the right. 
 THE PLAGUE WAS STAYED!"
 
 CHAPTEK XXXIV. 
 
 TWO RESCUES. 
 
 " PRAISE be to God for this day. It will live with 
 the birth-day of our country, and be commemorated 
 with bonfires and illuminations, and by the prayers 
 and shouts of a happy people. But oh, if it had come 
 long years ago, what anguish might have been spared. 
 A world of sorrow and crime would never have been 
 written. But thy will, O God, be done." 
 
 We recognized our friend, the revivalist, in the gal- 
 lery of the House, as the Speaker declared the result 
 of the final ballot, bowing his white head reverently 
 as he spoke, and for some minutes hiding his face in 
 his hands. By his side stood a tall, attenuated per- 
 sonage in singular costume, his beard uncut, and his 
 thin hair falling negligently upon his shoulders. His 
 emaciated countenance was pale, but the dark, deep, 
 sunken eye glowed with steady brilliancy. He had 
 watched the debate and the vote with the keenest 
 scrutiny, his lips now and then moving nervously as 
 he half whispered his thoughts. His left arm hung 
 nerveless by his side ; and in his right hand he held 
 a long staff. 
 
 " Yes, and it will be done. The wicked shall be
 
 474 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 overtaken, and the wrongs of the innocent avenged. 
 The destroying angel has been commissioned to go 
 forth, and the hosts of hell shall be smitten in all the 
 land. Woe ! woe ! for the day has come ! In the might 
 of the Lord men shall go forth, and the wicked shall 
 be found in their secret hiding places, and the dark 
 beverage of hell be given to the flames, or spilled 
 upon the earth. There's joy in Heaven, peace on the 
 earth, and good will to men, for the day of the Lord 
 has come. The chain shall be struck from the cap- 
 tive and the prison-door be opened. Hallelujah to 
 God, for to-day the monster is chained, and the plague 
 is stayed." So vehemently spoke the companion of 
 the revivalist, as he stood by the side of his more 
 meek-appearing companion, bringing his heavy staff 
 almost fiercely down upon the floor at every sentence. 
 
 " Yes, the plague is stayed. God has prospered 
 the right this day. Now to our business, and then for 
 Oakvale. Sure enough, the prison door shall be 
 opened." 
 
 The two passed out of the chamber, followed by a 
 crowd who had been attracted by the words and 
 manner of the tallest speaker. They were seeking 
 the Governor's mansion, to the great wonderment of 
 those who had followed them into the street. 
 
 The reader will remember, in a previous chapter, 
 the interview between Minnie Hermon and Walter 
 Brayton, which was interrupted by Lane. The latter 
 individual had dogged the footsteps of Minnie to the 
 jail, and under pretence of doing a pressing errand
 
 TWO RESCUES. 4:75 
 
 ,o the prisoner, gained admittance to the hall leading 
 to the cells. lie had stolen noiselessly to the door, 
 and had caught the word " oath," as it fell from Min- 
 nie's lips. 
 
 Two hours from that time, her father put a note 
 into her hand, purporting to be from a sick woman 
 over the river, and urging her immediate attendance. 
 Minnie knew the woman and her situation, and im- 
 mediately threw on her cloak and started. A fine 
 snow was falling fast, and the night was so dark that 
 she could hardly distinguish the outlines of the moun- 
 tains against the heavy sky. The woman she was 
 going to see lived in the outskirts of the village, on 
 an unfrequented by-road leading up into the moun- 
 tain. As she turned from the main road she felt the 
 grasp of a heavy hand upon her shoulder, and strong 
 fingers at her throat. The assault had been so sud- 
 den that she had no opportunity of raising an alarm, 
 and in a moment she was gagged and lifted upon a 
 horse behind another person, and borne rapidly away. 
 Her eyes were bandaged, but she knew that her course 
 was up the mountain. She could hear another horse 
 alongside, and therefore judged that there were two 
 persons besides herself in the company. She heard 
 the roaring of the falls, and notwithstanding her sit- 
 uation, she thought of the circumstance which made 
 her acquainted with Brayton, and of all the events 
 which had so rapidly followed that acquaintance 
 There had been more shadow than sunshine across 
 the pathway.
 
 476 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 After riding a long time, and until she was be- 
 numbed with cold, a halt was made. The party had 
 descended the mountain, and were near the " chasm," 
 a gorge of dark and lonely character, at the bottom 
 of which a stream swept fiercely over rocks and falls. 
 The horses were hitched, and Minnie heard the step- 
 ping of two persons, as they went back a short dis- 
 tance and commenced conversation in a suppressed 
 tone of voice. Her attention was painfully excited, 
 but she could not distinguish the subject of the con- 
 versation. 
 
 There seemed to be a difference of opinion between 
 the two individuals in relation to some matter con- 
 cerning her, and as the dispute waxed warmer, she 
 caught its import ; and as she. recognized the voice 
 of Jud Lane, a shuddering heart-sickness well-nigh 
 robbed her of her senses. Knowing the man, as she 
 did, the unbroken darkness around, and a wild, bleak 
 mountain seldom trodden, between her and any hu- 
 man habitation, it is no wonder that her head swam 
 and her heart grew sick with fear and despair. 
 
 "D n it, Jud! I wouldn't do it, I tell you. 
 
 They will miss her at the village, and hunt the whole 
 country." 
 
 " How long is it since you became so tender-heart- 
 ed ? You say that dead cats never mew." 
 
 "Well, I know," and Minnie recognized the speak- 
 er as Burt Vanderwalt, a notorious desperado, " but 
 the truth is, I can't say I like this women business; 
 men, can get along with."
 
 TWO EESCUES. 47Y 
 
 " But if your life depended upon one's gossiping 
 tongue what then ? " 
 
 " Can't say ; but devil hang me if I want to 
 choke one of 'em to save another man's neck, any 
 how." 
 
 " Not if that would save you from state prison ? " 
 sneeringly asked Lane. 
 
 " Ho, ho ! Jud Lane, think you can frighten a Yan 
 derwalt, eh ? A prison better than a deadfall in pub 
 lie, Jud Lane ? " 
 
 " Pshaw ! Burt, I didn't mean nothing, for you and 
 I are friends" 
 
 "Ought to be, I guess, and without my tipping 
 this confounded woman into the ' chasm.' " 
 
 "But what can we .do, Bnrt?" 
 
 "You needn't say we, 'cause I have been with yon 
 in some ugly scrapes, or think that I'll take to kill- 
 ing women 'cause I love rum. If this was my job, 
 I should say, take her to Syd's. He'll put her where 
 all h 11 won't find her. Folks sent there never re- 
 turn again, you know," 
 
 " That's a fact ; but perhaps it's better to do that. 
 I must be back, though, to-morrow ; but I'll give you 
 ten dollars to take her there and give Sid the wink." 
 
 " "Wai, guess I'll do it ! Blasted cold night, though. 
 Shouldn't wonder if she'd freeze." 
 
 " So much the better, if she does." 
 
 " No, not for me. Min. Hennon never did me any 
 harm, Lane, and I cussedly hate to have anything tc 
 do with the business did in the first start."
 
 478 MIN&IE HEKMON. 
 
 " "Well, well, no matter ; you can stop at the Old 
 Morgan Clearing and put up. You can build a fire 
 in the cabin and stop awhile." 
 
 " Not for ten dollars, though, Jud Lane, on such a 
 night as this." 
 
 " How much, then ? " 
 
 " Why, if the thing is any object to you, you can 
 make it twenty, I reckon." 
 
 " Make it twenty, then, seem' it's you, and now go 
 ahead. Ride fast, and keep your eye out. Good 
 night." 
 
 Lane goaded his horse into a gallop as he turned 
 his head towards Oakvale, and Vanderwalt, leading 
 the horse Minnie was on by the bridle, pushed on 
 through the forest. She was chilled through and 
 through with severe cold, but felt relieved at the ab- 
 sence of Lane. 
 
 An hour's brisk rid ; ng took them to the Morgan 
 Clearing, a small opening on the mountain side, where 
 a deserted cabin alone invited the chance wanderer or 
 the hunter. Yanderwalt lifted Minnie from her horse 
 in his brawny arms, and then folding his own bear- 
 skin overcoat around her, proceeded to strike and kin- 
 dle a fire. It was only after a good deal of effort and 
 sundry abrupt expletives, that he succeeded in kin- 
 dling a blaze. Minnie never saw a more cheerful 
 blaze, though the rude tenement was both empty and 
 cheerless, and the snow had sifted in through many 
 a wide opening. As the first light shone directly upon 
 the darkness, she looked keenly at her companion,
 
 TWO RESCUES. 479 
 
 anxious to read his countenance, for the thought of 
 her situation in the forest was startling. She had 
 often seen him at her father's tavern ; and on one oc- 
 casion, she had done him an act of great kindnesSj 
 though she did not suppose that one of his character 
 would remember such acts with gratitude. As the 
 snow was pushed away and the heat of the fire dried 
 the ground, he urged her to sit nearer, and even of- 
 fered to assist her, as he noticed that she could hardly 
 move her benumbed limbs. For a long time she suf- 
 fered the most excruciating pains from the effects of 
 the heat, and as it left her fingers and feet, she could 
 hardly keep from closing her eyes ; but she dared not 
 do it. Vanderwalt noticed her weariness, and was at 
 a loss how to say something which was evidently on 
 his mind. 
 
 " Not much chance for a lady like you to sleep 
 here,. I reckon, Miss Hermon," said he, with an em- 
 barrassed air, looking towards an old frame of poles, 
 covered with dried hemlock boughs, " and ahem 
 I 'spect we oughtn't to stay here till daybreak. Pla- 
 guy tough night, though, for a woman to be out. 
 Darned if I don't wish I'd stayed ter hum." 
 
 Minnie had made no answer, though there was a 
 tone of respect, of honesty in the man's voice, which 
 gave her hope, and she ventured to ask him why she 
 had thus been decoyed from home, and brought into 
 the mountains in such a night. 
 
 " I'm s,orry swow I be, Miss Hermon, but I can't 
 
 tell that. Jud that other man, knows more than I 
 20
 
 480 MLNNIE HERMON. 
 
 lo 'bout that business," answered Burt, looking for 
 the first time steadily into her face. ' But if I'd a 
 known what the job was, I wouldn't a come for him 
 nor no other man swow I wouldn't, Miss Hermon." 
 
 " Take me back, then, to Oakvale, and I will re- 
 member the kindness as long as I live. Take me 
 back to-night!" 
 
 " No," thoughtfully answered Burt, watching with 
 surprise the sudden action of Minnie, " can't do that ; 
 I have have bargained to take you somewhere else, 
 and it must be done," and the burly ruffian looked 
 towards the doorway with evident fear, and dropped 
 his voice to a whisper. 
 
 " But let me take the horse, and I will go forward 
 and escape you," she plead with a meaning look. 
 
 " That will not do, either," he muttered, as he edged 
 liis way nearer the door, as if to prevent her from 
 such a rase. Minnie started and retreated a step be- 
 hind the fire. 
 
 " Don't never fear rne, Miss Hermon, if I have a 
 hard name. You did me a favor once, and I never 
 forget such things. I wouldn't harm a hair of your 
 head, though hadn't it a been for me, I 'spect you 
 wouldn't a been here now. But I darsn't go back. 
 You shan't be harmed, Miss, while Burt Yanderwalt 
 is a friend to you. This is an awful n : ght, and I'll 
 run the risk of staying till daybreak. Too bad, I 
 swow, for any women kind to be out." 
 
 Pleading was of no avail, and after exhausting all 
 her powers of persuasion, Minnie gave up the attempt
 
 TWO RESCUES. 481 
 
 in despair, trusting in God to guard her. Burt 
 stripped the bearskins from the saddles, and with his 
 own coat made the old bed of boughs as comfortable 
 as he could, and insisted that she should lie down 
 close by the fire, and not " worry, for things might all 
 come around right yet." Pulling a bottle from his 
 side pocket, he offered it for her to take a drink from. 
 
 Minnie recoiled from the tender with ill-concealed 
 disgust. Seeing that Burt felt hurt at such a recep- 
 tion of his well-meant offer, she explained, that it had 
 cursed her and her's, being the fruitful cause of all 
 her troubles. The people of Oakvale were happy 
 until rum came among them. Even talk upon tho 
 temperance question passed away the dismal hours ; 
 and Minnie entered into the subject with an enthusi- 
 asm that bore her mind away from the circumstances 
 that surrounded her. As she detailed the effects of 
 rum in Oakvale, Burt listened resoectfully, then with 
 interest, and as his better nature came once more up- 
 permost, he felt a warmth in his eyes, and fell to kick- 
 ing the fire to hide his weakness, as he believed it to 
 be. As she ceased speaking, after supposing him an 
 unwilling or angry listener from the violence with 
 which he kicked the fire, the notorious tippler sat for 
 a long time in thought, with his bottle in his hand 
 and its contents untasted. 
 
 u True as preachin', every cussed word the gal said," 
 he muttered to himself, as he half-angrily put tiie cork 
 into the bottle, and replaced it in his pocket. " Ev- 
 ery word true cuss'd if 'taint. If 'twaii't for some
 
 482 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 things rum again, old Bart! " and lie ground Iii3 
 teeth in thought. " If 'twan't for some things, I'd 
 jine the temp'rance concern, and quit drinking. Bet- 
 ter done it years ago, Bart. I'll think of that. Any 
 how, the gall shan't be harmed, if I hang for it. Jud 
 Lane may go to the devil." 
 
 The revivalist suddenly disappeared from Oakvale. 
 His absence and that of Minnie Ilermon, left a blank 
 in the enjoyments of Brayton which caused his mind 
 to relapse into despondency and gloom. With haughty 
 mien and a heart full of bitter feelings, he gave him- 
 self up to his fate. He knew not that a single friend 
 was making an effort to fathom the circumstances 
 which rendered his case so hopeless. 
 
 On the afternoon of a late winter day, a white- 
 headed man was Been wending his way over one of 
 the bleak mountains of Pennsylvania, his long beard 
 covered with frost, and his footsteps weary from his 
 toilsome clay's journey. He was well known in that 
 vicinity, and was cordially welcomed to the homes of 
 most of the honest-hearted yeomanry. For years, 
 without money and without price, he had traveled 
 among them and preached the gospel, his mildness, 
 unassuming benevolence and humble manners, win- 
 ning the esteem of the more thoughtless. The reader 
 will recognize the revivalist in the aged traveler, and 
 learn that some object of more than usual interest has 
 induced him to make the toilsome winter journey, 
 from Oukvale.
 
 TWO RESCUES. 4.83 
 
 "Are you acquainted with one Sid Lane, who lives 
 in these parts ? " asked the revivalist of his friends 
 where he stopped for the night. 
 
 " Yes, believe there is such a man back a few miles 
 over the mountain ; but few know anything of the 
 man, nor do they seem to want to. He shuns every- 
 body." 
 
 " Does he live in the log house by the ledge ? '' 
 
 " Yes, believe he does." 
 
 " Don't know, I suppose, whether he has any con- 
 nection living ? " 
 
 " Do not ; and it would be as much as a man's 
 head was worth to find out. He's a very bad man. 
 People say he came from York State for no good." 
 
 " Did he come from Oakvale ? ' 
 
 " Guess that was the place, or some such name.. 
 Pretty hard set there, I guess, if. the stories are all 
 true." The revivalist colored and changed the con- 
 versation. 
 
 " Hasn't there been a report in circulation that a 
 wild man has been seen in a cavern up the ledge, 
 and been heard to scream a tall man with a long 
 beard ? " 
 
 " There has ; and between you and me, [lowering 
 his voice to a whisper,] I guess it's true ; for one of 
 my brothers was along at the time. They had been 
 hunting, and just at night cut across the gorge, you 
 see, to get home before dark. Upon the mountain 
 they heard a scream like, just as though 'twas some- 
 thing human. They thought 'twas a panther, and so
 
 484: MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 concluded they would keep a lookout. And then 
 they heard singing, and a jabbering like some one 
 crazy. They crept among the rocks, and between 
 two big ones said they saw a tall, wild-looking critter 
 behind stout wooden timbers, gnashing his teeth just 
 as if he was mad, and rattling his chains. While 
 they were looking, Sid Lane came, and before they 
 saw him, stood before them with his hand upon hia 
 hunting-knife. He raved terribly, and swore that 
 if he ever caught a live man on his premises again, 
 he would be the death of him. I wouldn't go there 
 for any money. Guess the wild man must be some 
 crazy relation of his'n." 
 
 "I don't know how that may be, but I have particular 
 reasons for wishing to see this man * must see him. 
 Who is there that can be hired to show me the way 
 up the ledge ? " 
 
 " Don't know of a man in the settlement who would 
 do it, unless it is my youngest boy, Sam. He is a 
 perfect dare-devil, and is always in some such scrape. 
 I don't know but I might consent for him to go with 
 you just to accommodate, but I am plaguy 'fraid that 
 trouble will come of it." 
 
 " I'll take that risk. Sam, as you call him, need 
 not go farther than will be necessary to direct me to 
 the spot where this wild man was seen." 
 
 The revivalist found a ready spirit in Sam Janson, 
 and after breakfast the two started over the moun- 
 tain. It was a long and exciting journey, the moun- 
 tain being made up of immense jagged rocks, heaped
 
 TWO RESCUES. r* 
 
 in wildest confusion, a scattering growth of spruce 
 and birch clinging to rift and seam for a rugged sap 
 port. Here and there deep chasms were gashed in. 
 the loose boulders and stunted timber shutting the 
 sunlight from the gloomy depths. To avoid all chance 
 of meeting Lane, they took a wide detour, which use<l 
 up the best part of the day before they neared tlic 
 spot sought. The snow lay over the fissures, and tho 
 ascent of the ledge was toilsome and even dangerous. 
 As they neared the head of the gorge in which re- 
 port had located the wild man, the revivalist insist- 
 ed that Janson should keep a lookout from the crag, 
 as the height commanded a view of the pass where 
 the outlaw's cabin was located. 
 
 Alone, the old man set out on his strange adven- 
 ture. After disappearing down the rocks among the 
 undergrowth, he pulled a pistol from his pocket and 
 examined it carefully. There was fire in the man'd 
 eye and a vigor in his step, which was in striking con- 
 trast with one of his character and age, and yet, 
 asleep or awake, at the evening prayer, or preaching 
 on the camp-ground, the weapon had for years been 
 his constant companion. His footsteps had been dog- 
 ged by a sleepless foe the very man who claimed 
 the section where he was treading. 
 
 The sun had left the gorge in a night-like gloom, 
 and the old man began to despair of effecting the ob- 
 ject of his journey, when he noticed a track on the 
 table below him, leading still deeper into the gorge. 
 He hesitated a moment to see that the fresh track had
 
 4:86 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 returned, and then with the vigor of youth he sprang 
 lightly down and followed the first. As he reached 
 the bottom of the fearful chasm, he stopped and lis- 
 tened with breathless attention. Being confident that 
 whoever might that day have visited the bottom, they 
 must be beyond hearing, he put his fingers to his 
 mouth and gave a low but prolonged and shrill whis- 
 tle. Three times he repeated the sound with no re- 
 sponse save the echoes which faintly died away down 
 the gorge. Night was upon him, but he could not 
 abandon his purpose, and he again followed the track 
 across the bottom until it struck the other ledge, and 
 wound deftly among the rocks. He whistled again 
 and awaited the result. 
 
 High above, as if in the upper air, a wild and spec 
 tral ha, ha, burst strangely distinct from some un- 
 known source. The revivalist grasped his staff with 
 excitement, and kept his hand upon his pistol, listen- 
 ing with a heart beating violently with mingled emo- 
 tions. He heard the same voice again, now swelling 
 out, in a tone at once melodious and shrill, in a famil 
 iar hymn often sung in the country meetings. 
 
 The revivalist whistled again, though the violence 
 of his feelings almost unmanned him. He hoped, and 
 yet feared. There was something in the voice which 
 thrilled like a well-remembered tone, and should his 
 hopes be realized, the prayer of his heart, with its 
 most cherished purpose, would be accomplished. 
 
 " Mock, ye human devils 1 I hear you, but fear 
 you not. I was sick, and you bound mo and cus-
 
 TWO RESCUES. 487 
 
 me into prison, where you visited me hot. But an 
 arm that is mighty to save shall break the bands and 
 let the captive go free." 
 
 There was no mistaking that voice : and with great 
 difficulty the listener threaded his way up the ledge, 
 guided somewhat by the voice above, alternating with 
 denunciation and song. When nearly half-way up 
 the ascent from the base, the path led between two 
 huge boulders out upon a shelving rock, hanging per- 
 pendicular over the precipice. In the high, abrupt 
 wall immediately back, was a wide seam like an in- 
 verted letter v, and from this point the sound still pro- 
 ceeded. The revivalist doubted no longer, for the 
 voice was familiar, and he could have shouted for joy. 
 The thread of plotting wickedness was almost in his 
 hand. The clear sky reflected upon the high and ex- 
 posed situation, revealing in the fissure a rough frame- 
 work of timbers, let down through a cross-fissure a 
 few feet back, and firmly wedged. And from such a 
 fastness the sound of a human voice proceeded. Af- 
 ter resting a moment from the severity of his ascent 
 and the oppression of his thoughts, the revivalist ad- 
 vanced and stood close to the timbers, vainly attempt- 
 ing to penetrate the darkness within. From an im- 
 mense depth the sounds still came, with a plaintive 
 melody, followed by a burst of rage and defiance. The 
 revivalist again put his hands to his mouth and gave 
 a low whistle. The voice within ceased for a mo- 
 ment, and then there was a. rattling of chains, and a 
 wild ha, ha !
 
 488 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 " Come on ! % come on, ye human devils. The Lord 
 will smite you with his vengeance. Even in chains I 
 scorn you." 
 
 The listener waited a moment, and then in low and 
 deliberate tones, pronounced a name. 
 
 " Ha ! What's that ? Who calls me ? " 
 
 "A friend." 
 
 " Who can that be my mother ? She comes in 
 my dreams ; but it's so cold here she cannot stay. 
 But an angel has promised to let me out and gjve 
 me wings, and then, woe to those who bound me. 
 My swoop shall be terrible." 
 
 "How came you here? " continued the revivalist, 
 as he stood sadly listening to the muttering of the 
 insane. 
 
 " How came I here ? ha ! ha ! How came human 
 devils on earth ? Ask Skillott ask Jud Lane ask 
 the devil down the ledge. How came you here to 
 deceive, and to cut my throat ? Let me out, and I'll 
 slay forty and two thousand of you ? " 
 
 " I have come to let you out a friend from Oak- 
 vale. Come nearer." 
 
 There was a rattling of chains, and footsteps care- 
 fully approached the timbers. 
 
 " Here," reaching his arm in between them, " put 
 your hand in mine," again speaking that familiar 
 name, and mentioning some circumstances of the past, 
 " and know that you have a friend that will save 
 you." 
 
 Lightly, like the touch of a cat, long, cold fingers
 
 TWO EESCUES. 4:89 
 
 were dropped suspiciously upon the revivalist's palm, 
 the latter all the time speaking in a winning, soothing 
 tone. Silently the captive felt of the hand, and then 
 up the arm ; then grasped the palm in both of his, 
 and stooped and kissed it, the revivalist feeling warm 
 drops as the hairy lips touched his palm. 
 
 "And don't you know me ! Didn't you ever hear 
 my voice before ? " 
 
 " I have, but it was a long while ago ! " The re- 
 vivalist was overjoyed to witness the soothing effect 
 of his words, and continued to converse with the cap- 
 tive. Looking around warily, he put his mouth to 
 the widest opening, and whispered something in the 
 captive's ear. 
 
 " hallelujah!" 
 
 " Hush ! never speak that word to mortal ear," and 
 the startled revivalist again looked behind him un- 
 easily. 
 
 " You know me, then ! " 
 
 " I do. And have you come to let me out ? Oh, 
 if I could go back to Oakvale. There's a great work 
 there for me to do. But it may be too late. How 
 long have I been here ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell ; but to-morrow night you shall go 
 free. You must wait and 'keep silent? 
 
 " I'll wait if it's God's will ; but it's so cold and 
 dark here. You'll surely come ? " 
 
 " If I live," and the revivalist slowly withdrew his 
 hand from the reluctant captive's strong grasp, and 
 slowly pursued his way down the ledge. At the base
 
 4:90 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 lie met a person in the path, whom, in the darkness, 
 he could hardly recognize. Hastily cocking his pis- 
 tol, he demanded .who was there. 
 
 " Why, Sam Janson ! I didn't know what might 
 happen, and so kind a walked along a little. No 
 harm done, I hope ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; but let us hurry on." 
 
 In spite of the blunt, though cordial remonstrance 
 of young Janson, the revivalist insisted that the for- 
 mer should return to the settlement and procure an 
 axe, saw and iron bar, and return by the next eve- 
 ning, leaving him (the revivalist) on the mountain. 
 The latter was determined not to be foiled in the ob- 
 ject of his coming. 
 
 He watched eagerly in his concealment for the 
 coming of the night, often regretting that he had not 
 himself gone back to the settlement so as to have 
 made sure of his implements. But jnst as it began 
 to grow dusk, a low whistle, as agreed upon, indicated 
 the return of Janson. He had failed in procuring an 
 iron bar, and as a substitute, had brought a heavy 
 crane from the fire-place at home. Silently the two 
 pursued their way down into the gorge and across 
 the bottom. Here the revivalist posted young Jan- 
 Bon with his rifle, with instructions to give him timely 
 warning of any approach from below, and with his 
 tools commenced the ascent. The silence was bro- 
 ken only by the lonely hooting of an owl across the 
 gorge, and the sighing of the winds as they swept 
 through the stunted mountain pines. Approaching
 
 TWO RESCUES. 4:91 
 
 the entrance, he listened for a moment and then 
 asked : 
 
 " , are you here ? " 
 
 " How could I be anywhere else with these ungodly 
 chains upon me ? " soberly though somewhat bitterly 
 replied the captive, immediately advancing and 
 eagerly clasping the hand thrust between the timbers. 
 "And you have come to let me out ! It seemed so 
 long since you were here that I feared it was a mad- 
 man's dream. I have feared I was mad. Do you 
 think I am ? " 
 
 " It's enough to make any one mad a place like 
 this. But daylight will not find us here," cheerfully 
 answered the revivalist, laying off his coat and com- 
 mencing a thorough examination of the timbers. The 
 iron crane was not of sufficient strength to pry them 
 apart so as to admit his body, and he commenced 
 with the saw, often stopping to listen. The sweat 
 rolled down his face, but he worked with unabating 
 vigor, and soon cut out one of the heavy timbers. 
 "With the crane in hand, he stepped into the cavern 
 and called the captive's name,' being immediately 
 clasped in a strong embrace and loaded with blessings. 
 Upon examination, he found that one of the legs of 
 the captive was in irons, the chain fastened to the 
 ankle by a padlock, and to the heaviest timber of the 
 doorway by a large staple. Inserting the crooked 
 end of the crane into the link in the staple, he twisted 
 it against the latter until it snapped in two. With 
 the head of the axe carefully applied, the pad j ock
 
 492 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 was soon broken to pieces, and the fetters unloosed 
 from the leg. In silence the captive now no longer 
 so followed his deliverer into the open air, when 
 he paused, looked up to the sky, drew a long breath, 
 and then locked his hands in silent prayer. 
 
 " Have you strength to follow me, asked the re- 
 vivalist. 
 
 " Strength enough ; havn't starved ; the devils did 
 not wish that." 
 
 " Then follow /" 
 
 They had not half made the -descent into the bot- 
 tom of the gorge, when a rifle shot rang out upon the 
 night air, giving warning of an unwelcome approach, 
 immediately followed by Janson's footsteps as he 
 sprang lightly up the steep path. The three immedi- 
 ately stepped behind a rock and awaited farther re- 
 sults. The revivalist was intensely anxious about his 
 companion, fearing that his mind was not sufficiently 
 sound to meet calmly a new danger ; but his heart 
 beat lighter as he saw him in the dim light, by his 
 side, and cool as he ever had been in a time of diffi- 
 culty and danger. 
 
 While the revivalist was peering around the path 
 to scan the approach from below, a bullet pierced his 
 hat and scalp, grazing the skull, and prostrating him 
 to the ground. 
 
 " There, meddler ! I saw your track, and have paid 
 
 you for your curiosity, I reckon. I knew you, 
 
 , all the time," chuckled Sid Lane, as he ap- 
 proached the now-struggling revivalist.
 
 TWO RESCUES. 493 
 
 "And I know you, Sid Lane ! and the Philistines 
 be upon yon," howled the Hermit, (for it was he,) 
 springing fiercely upon the former as he stooped to 
 thrust his knife into the prostrate revivalist, with a 
 howl almost unearthly from its bitter fierceness. 
 
 Lane had been taken by surprise, he supposing the 
 gun below was fired by the one whom he had shot, 
 and not suspecting that there were others in his com- 
 pany. The struggle was brief. With one desperate 
 exertion of his strength, the Hermit caught up the 
 withered old man, and in spite of his struggles, car- 
 ied him to the edge of the rocky path and hurled 
 him off, muttering as he listened after the fall below, 
 and then turned to look to the revivalist. That per- 
 sonage was not injured, save a severe wound in the 
 scalp, and had recovered from the stunning effects of 
 the shot. The three immediately commenced their 
 night-journey to the settlement. 
 
 Lane was not badly injured by his fall, as there 
 happened to be a table of rocks between him and the 
 precipice ; but he wisely chose to shun the odds 
 against him, and trust to other chances to carry out 
 his purposes. He ground his teeth and swore bitterly 
 when he found that his enemy had not been killed by 
 his shot. 
 
 They will meet once more.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 IN WHICH THE READER WILL SEE SOME ACQUAINTANCES 
 AND THE RESULTS OF THE WORK. 
 
 THERE was a happy day in Oakvale, for the Maine 
 Law had passed, and drunkenness was to be no more. 
 The day when the law was to go into force, was to be 
 commemorated with bonfires and illuminations ; by 
 prayers, songs and shouts ; by the ringing of bells and 
 the firing of cannon. At sunrise, the roaring of the 
 latter awoke the people, and iishered in a day of fes- 
 tivity and joy. The cannon had been placed over 
 the river and far up the mountain, and the smoke 
 from its hoarse lungs rolled away like a banner, and 
 rested in the air of the clear spring morning. There 
 was not a cloud in the sky. The sparrows and blue- 
 birds had just returned to sing a welcome to the bud- 
 ding leaf and flower. There was a constant tramp- 
 ling of feet upon the walks, as the masses gathered 
 from the surrounding country, by twos and by scores. 
 They came on foot, on horse-back, and in carriages. 
 Many a family had left the house to take care of itself, 
 so eager were the women and children, especially, to 
 witness the rejoicings. Groups of children in their 
 Sunday suits were tripping here and there, and with 
 few exceptions, all wore smiling countenances. Flags
 
 GOOD RESULTS. 495 
 
 from windows and from ropes stretched across the 
 principal streets, wrought with appropriate devices, 
 were fluttering gaily in the breeze. Many a drunk 
 ard, sober from necessity, was observed to watch the 
 streamers and listen to the music of the bands, until 
 he was borne away with the spirit of the day, and 
 smiled upon the scene. Poorly dressed mothers with 
 ragged but clean-looking children, came forth for the 
 first time in years, and watched the proceedings with 
 deep interest. The church in which the meeting was 
 to convene was bedecked with evergreen, tastefully 
 wrought into vines, festoons, and beautiful devices. 
 
 The firing of the cannon shook the dark walls of 
 the prison, and startled a band of felons which had 
 just " turned out " for the day's work. In a gang of 
 hands employed upon a roof of one of the new shops, 
 were two convicts, who often cast their eyes towards 
 the smoke curling from the cannon on the mountain 
 side. They had learned enough to divine the cause 
 of the universal commotion, and their eagle spirit? 
 chafed as they heard the hum of voices and the strains 
 of music. The large national banner which rolled 
 and swayed from the staff on the Square, seemed to 
 taunt them with its graceful movements in the free 
 air. Who of the throng thought of them in their 
 prison-house \ 
 
 The two prisoner's were Doctor Howard and Wal- 
 ter Brayton ! The sentence of the latter had been 
 commuted to imprisonment for life on the strength of 
 the direct testimony of Halton and his daughter.
 
 496 MINNIE. HERMONT. 
 
 Towards noon, our old acquaintance, the revivalist, 
 travel-worn and haggard, though smiling, knocked at 
 the warden's door, and inquired for Howard and 
 Brayton. 
 
 To his statement that he had taken an interest in 
 those convicts that he believed them to be no com- 
 mon criminals, the warden sneeringly blurted out an 
 oath, and put all criminals in the same class cold- 
 hearted and relentless, never seeing the semblance 
 of humanity in the wretch that has committed a crime > 
 and boasting of his cruelty, as though it were an ev- 
 idence of great capacity for rule. And yet, look at 
 the physiognomy of the man ! the small, black, hog 
 eye ; the narrow and ill-shaped brow ; the lisping 
 tongue, sounding like the serpent's hiss ; and the sen- 
 sual lips, which grin like an idiot's when the man at- 
 tempts to be a gentleman, or leer like a devil's 
 when his nature glares unrestrained upon his repul- 
 sive features. He has no more idea of the real duties 
 and responsibilities of his position than the bull-dog 
 in his kennel. Without talents to govern men as a 
 man, his only way to win notoriety is to be a brute 
 and beat men as brutes. We are not mistaken in that 
 face. We have read the souls of more cunning men 
 in our day, arid we can decipher the language written 
 on that physiognomy as plainly as though written in 
 English. We know the man's whole strength, his 
 course of habits, thoughts, and the motives which 
 govern his action. If he has not committed a state' 
 prison crime, nature has written false.
 
 GOOD RESULTS. 497 
 
 He at first refused to call the two convicts fKm the 
 shops, but as the revivalist showed him a sealed pa- 
 per, his countenance changed to sickening smiles, and 
 he hastened to send for the men. They entered the 
 office with a mien unbroken by their degrading po- 
 sition paler than at the time we saw them last, but 
 erect and dignified, as in their best days. By permis- 
 sion of the now obsequious warden, the revivalist 
 advanced, and without a word of explanation or in- 
 troduction, handed each a full and complete pardon 
 from the Governor of the State ! 
 
 Howard bowed his head on the desk, and with a 
 sudden and convulsive movement, crushed the paper 
 in his hand. As suddenly he raised his head again, 
 and advanced to the window, as if to make sure that 
 he* had read aright. Brayton stood motionless and 
 silent for a moment, perfectly overwhelmed with the 
 violence of his emotions. Then his lips began to 
 quiver, and he burst into a sob which shook his strong 
 frame as though it had been a child's. Howard first 
 attempted to speak. 
 
 " No, no, my friends ! Though I am a stranger, 
 you once befriended me in a dark day. I have now 
 had the happiness of doing you both a kindness in 
 return. I wish you, as a favor which you will soon 
 understand, to put yourselves under my direction 
 this day. Let us go." 
 
 The convict garb was soon laid off', and with feel- 
 ings which cannot be written, Howard and Brayton 
 followed their stranger friend through the massive
 
 498 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 iron gate, nearly sinking with the intensity of their 
 feelings, as it crashed back to its place, and they 
 stood in the sunshine of the wide, free world. 
 
 The church was overflowing. Every place where 
 a foot could find a place was occupied, and out-doors 
 the sea of heads reached as far again. The roar of 
 the cannon and the music of the choir had kept the 
 vast assemblage in good feeling while awaiting the 
 procession of the Orders and the arrival of the speak- 
 ers. Indeed, almost every person seemed to feel well. 
 Skillott had taken a conspicuous stand upon the plat- 
 form, the sinister smile more prominent than usual. 
 
 From one of the open windows back of the plat- 
 form, the speakers, and leading temperance men, 
 clergymen, &c., and visitors, came in, and were seat- 
 ed on the platform. With John Gault, Hal ton, and 
 others of the old veterans, were three persons closely 
 muffled, who remained so during the exercises, at- 
 tracting much notice from the curious thousands as- 
 sembled. 
 
 We cannot describe the character of that meeting ; 
 it were a profanation to attempt it. All hearts were 
 full, and from their fullness the mouths spake, and 
 with a three-times-three that mingled proudly with 
 the pealing of the cannon, the people adjourned to 
 the Square, where glorinis things were to be wit- 
 nessed. Skillott volunteered to announce his devotion 
 to the Maine Law, and Dobbs smiled graciously, but 
 the people swept out and hurried to the Square.
 
 GOOD BESTTLTS. 499 
 
 In the middle of the Square were a number of bar- 
 rels of liquor, seized by Marshal Gaston under the 
 new law, and which were to be destroyed that day. 
 Every window in sight of the place was filled with 
 heads, and surrounding the barrels was a dark mass 
 of eager and excited people. Overhead, the flag of 
 our country lifted gracefully on the winds. 
 
 "With a smile upon his countenance, Gaston seized 
 his sledge which he had brought from his shop, and 
 was about to strike the first head in, when the revi- 
 valist caught his hand and arrested the blow ; and 
 mounting the doomed barrel, he said, in a clear 
 voice : 
 
 " Men and women of Oakvale ! I will not long 
 avert a blow which you are so anxious to see fall. 
 As the accursed destroyer has robbed me of all that 
 loved me, I shall claim of our good friend Gaston 
 the privilege of wielding the first blow of this right- 
 eous enactment, in Oakvale. Before I do so, howev- 
 er, here, before assembled thousands, let justice be 
 done to those who have been wronged. You recol- 
 lect Doctor Howard and Walter Bray ton tw r o as 
 noble-hearted men as ever lived among you. (Aye, 
 aye, murmured the crowd ; but Skillott frowned.) I 
 have taken this occasion to have their good names 
 vindicated from every stain, and have the proof at 
 hand. The consequences may be unpleasant to some, 
 and grate discordantly upon the general character 
 of the exercises, b .it I know that you will be glad to
 
 500 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 see innocent men dealt justly with by their neigh- 
 bors." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; that we will," was answered by many 
 voices, amidst intense feeling and a swaying of the 
 crowd as the people attempted to get nearer the 
 speaker. 
 
 " Doctor Howard did not rob Gerald Bray ton's grave 
 neither did Walter Brayton murder Nye, the drover 
 And now to the proof. Here are two witnesses whom 
 I would believe, for I have known them for years, 
 and never knew them to lie." 
 
 The revivalist then leaped from the barrel and 
 urged the two closely muffled individuals upon the 
 small platform, and with his own hands lifted off their 
 hats and threw their cloaks from their shoulders. 
 
 " People of Oakvale ! Doctor Howard and Walter 
 Brayton stand before you. Let any man say that he 
 knows aught of crime against tfyem." 
 
 The crowd swayed like a deep wave, but still and 
 breathless. Skillott turned deadly pale as he recog- 
 nized the two men, but quickly recovered his outward 
 coolness. 
 
 "Proof!" he sneered. "This is a pretty pass. 
 Convicts breaking prison, and relying upon a Maine 
 Law excitement to keep them from justice." Howard 
 and Brayton both tried to catch the eye of the Judge, 
 but in vain. 
 
 " Judge Skillott speaks of breaking prison," said 
 the revivalist, again mounting the liquor-cask. " I
 
 GOOD RESULTS. 501 
 
 will read the plan of their escape," producing and 
 reading the two pardons. " But he asks proof. Let 
 him look at the tall man who has just dropped his 
 cloak from his face." 
 
 The Hermit stood erect and calm before the people 
 his full eye resting upon Skillott. 
 
 " Let him again look at the female whom Mr. Bray- 
 ton has just led before you from the carriage by the 
 flag-staff." 
 
 Embarrassed, but still beautiful and erect, Minnie 
 Hermon stood with her head uncovered. 
 
 " God has blessed our endeavors to scent out wrong, 
 and here is proof which will be used to clear the in- 
 nocent and convict the guilty. Friends, Walter 
 Brayton will speak." 
 
 Pale from long confinement, Walter stood up, and 
 in a voice which had lost none of its wondrous depth 
 and power, said, in substance : 
 
 " Friends ! I will not attempt to speak what is this 
 day in my heart. You know me and my history. I 
 have been deeply wronged, as, I thank God, I shall be 
 able to show. By the influence of enemies, I was 
 induced to wrong another. Before God and this as- 
 semblage, I will make all the amends it is mine to do, 
 though not worthy of the privilege." 
 
 The revivalist then asked if there were any who 
 knew why Walter Brayton and Minnie Hermon 
 should not be united in the holy bands of marriage ? 
 There was no response, and he proceeded to pronounce 
 them man and wife, and then put up a prayer which
 
 502 MENNIE HERMON. 
 
 was full of tne dark night past and the promising 
 morning of a better future. 
 
 "And now, men and women of Oakvale, James 
 Ricks strikes the first blow ! " at the same time spring- 
 ing to the ground and bringing the sledge down upon 
 the barrel he had stood upon, knocking in the head. 
 
 " Depart, ye cursed, to the place prepared for you/' 
 fiercely shouted the Hermit, as he seized the weapon 
 and with a powerful sweep crushed through a head 
 at every blow. 
 
 " Old Barney Kitts has turned spirit-rapper," said 
 that old toper, now cleanly dressed, although it took 
 three of his feebler strokes to let the spirits out. 
 
 The cannon pealed from up the mountain, the bells 
 rang out a merry chime, and the crowd, no longer 
 able to control their enthusiasm, shouted until their 
 voices well-nigh drowned the roar of the cannon ; and 
 putting Hicks, Howard, Brayton and Minnie, Gault, 
 Ilalton, and the Hermit into the wagon, to the music 
 of the band and deafening hurrahs, escorted them 
 through the principal streets. As the sun faded out, 
 fire was set to the liquor, still in pools and in the bro- 
 ken barrels, the flames leaping and writhing like red 
 sarpents, as they shot upward towards the sky. 
 
 " Too late ! too late ! Oh, if this had been done 
 years ago, I should not have been robbed of my boy," 
 murmured old Mrs. Weston, and she wept as she sat 
 in her door and watched the flashing flame. 
 
 That evening, as Skillott was sitting in his office, 
 buried iu deep thought, he was startled by a loud rap
 
 GOOD RESULTS. 503 
 
 on the door. The door -was locked ; but he sprang 
 from his chair and turned deadly pale. Seizing a 
 bundle of papers which lay, on the table, and thrust- 
 ing them into his pocket, he hastened through the 
 house into the back yard. As he leaped the fence 
 and stood by the river bank, he encountered the one 
 whom, of all others, he most dreaded. 
 
 " Leaving these parts, eh ? You saw me off once, 
 and I thought I would return the compliment. Are 
 there not more murderers to try, Judge ? Tliey are 
 not all hung yet ! ha, ha ! " 
 
 The Hermit sat in the boat which Skillott had 
 provided for an escape. The latter drew his pistol ; 
 but a strong grasp from behind caught the arm, and 
 the ball struck the water far beyond the boat. 
 
 " Not so good a marksman as when you tried me 
 before with ball ! Hand a little unsteady, perhaps. 
 Gerald Brayton's was when he signed the will ! " 
 chuckled the Hermit as he leaped ashore and assisted 
 Sheriff Gaston in placing the prisoner in irons. " Been, 
 waiting for you some time. Jud Lane will be glad 
 to see you at the jail. Your friend, Mr. Hermon, has 
 left without so much as bidding us good bye." 
 
 The Hermit had dogged Skillott's footsteps, and 
 from his hiding-place watched the arrangements for 
 escape, and listened to the plans of Skillott and Lane. 
 Jlermon had not waited for darkness, but during the 
 scene upon the Square had slipped away and made 
 good his escape. From a manuscript we gather sointj 
 of the incidents which followed : 
 21
 
 504: MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 " OAKVALE, Aug. 5, 18 . 
 DOCTOK HOWARD: 
 
 "We think and talk of you often, and miss you 
 much, but do not wonder that you do not wish to re- 
 side in Oakvale, for the associations are sad indeed. 
 I was at poor Mary's grave to-day, and thought of all 
 the past. I go there often and tend the flowers with 
 a watchful care. I loved her, for she was a kind and 
 true friend to me in the dark days. And she lives 
 not on earth to witness the dawning of a better day ! 
 
 " You have probably heard ere this, that Skillott 
 committed suicide in the jail on the day before ho 
 was to have been executed. Jud Lane was hung, after 
 making a full confession of his crimes. 
 
 " I have been sad to-day, and have wept much. 
 Last night a poor looking old beggar called at our 
 door, and in God's name plead for food and rest. 
 Neither Walter nor myself could refuse the appeal, 
 and therefore we took him in. This morning he died, 
 after putting his fleshless arms around my neck and 
 asking my forgiveness. The poor, wandering beggar 
 was the once proud and honorable John Hermon, my 
 father ! How different would have been his end but 
 for rum ! As the Widow Weston says, the law carno 
 
 too late So you perceive that there are 
 
 shadows yet flitting here and there in my sky. 
 
 41 You will remember the Hermit, and how strange- 
 ly he disappeared while you were under arrest. Ho 
 was kidnapped by Skillott and Lane after being shot
 
 GOOD RESULTS. 505 
 
 in the shoulder. But you were made acquainted with 
 all the facts of his disappearance, imprisonment in the 
 Ledge, and release by Ricks. You may not know, 
 however, that he and ' Crazy Alf ' are the same, and 
 that he is a son of Elder Snyder, and an uncle of 
 mine ! He had traced father to this place, and after 
 his reform, became impressed with the belief that he 
 was an instrument selected to punish his sister's hus- 
 band my father for his cruelty to her. He is 
 with us now, meek, kind, and gentle to all, though a 
 word about rum will arouse him to the fiercest wild- 
 ness. It would do you good to see him ' smite ' the 
 liquor barrels wherever they are found. He spends 
 much of his time by the grave of his mother. He 
 still persists in carrying his long staff, and in wearing 
 his beard. 
 
 
 
 " Bless God for the Maine Law ! It has filled the 
 land with gladness and joy, and there is rejoicing ev- 
 erywhere. You can hardly conceive the change it 
 has wrought in Oakvale. N"o drunkenness is seen, 
 and seldom a case of suffering from poverty or want. 
 Pauperism has almost entirely disappeared, and the 
 jail is empty, save now and then a prisoner, who may 
 have been convicted of selling rum. Walter tells me 
 that there is but little business in the courts. I look 
 down where the babe is slumbering in the cradle, and 
 tears of great gladness come freely from a full heart, 
 and I audibly thank God. My boy, if he lives, will 
 not be exposed to the sweep of the dark stream that
 
 506 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 has wrecked so many of my hopes in other day*\ 
 Walter has recovered his father's property from Skil- 
 lott, arid with this, added to the avails of his practice, 
 we are surrounded with comfort. We are happy, yet 
 do not forget your own broken home. . . . 
 
 "Sid Lane was recently sentenced to the state pris- 
 on for a long career of body-snatching. It appears 
 strange that the infatuated populace should have so 
 injured you and yours for being suspected of such a 
 crime, while they supported the business of selling 
 rum strange to license men to destroy the living, 
 and imprison men for robbing the dead ! It is cer- 
 tainly worse to rob the heart and the home, than the 
 grave. 
 
 " Hon. Mr. Fenton was here yesterday. He was 
 surprised to find that we had but just commenced 
 the married life. He had gotten the impression that 
 Walter was the one who turned his family out of 
 doors to freeze. We were happy to undeceive him. 
 
 "Mr. Hudson you have not forgotten Mortimer 
 Hudson, the elder is well, and his home is as happy 
 as it can well be. He and Ricks are much together in 
 works of goodness. The latter lingers and weeps like 
 a child by the graves of his family. He was arrested 
 at the instigation of Sid Lane, and tried for an as- 
 sault with intent to kill the latter, in the rescue of Al- 
 fred Snyder ; but Alfred testified to the facts, and he 
 was acquitted. I believe I have detailed the princi- 
 pal facts you would be glad to hear, though you will 
 DO glad to learn that Deacon McGarr has become a
 
 GOOD RESULTS. 507" 
 
 sober and industrious man, and that old Barney Kitts 
 lives like a king. 
 
 " Yes, my dear friend, we are happy in the light of 
 this new day. Walter has just come in and lifted 
 Henry (we have named our babe Henry Howard} 
 from his cradle, and Alfred and Ricks are conversing 
 in low tones in the verandah. The sun has crept up 
 and flooded the sheet, on which I am writing, with 
 golden light, and the heart reflects it from its un- 
 clouded depths. A long, dark night has passed away ; 
 and with the most profound gratitude to God, \ve 
 look forward to greet the FULL MORNING OF A BRIGHT- 
 ER, BETTER DAY! 
 
 " Walter says that you may look for us in October, 
 in your western hiding-place. 
 
 "Till then,' adieu! 
 
 " MIKNIE BRAYTON." 
 
 "We will not detain the reader longer, though the 
 subsequent history of our principal characters (and 
 they are now living) might be interesting. 
 
 Alfred Snyder was driven from his home by the 
 " iron rule," and became reckless and abandoned for 
 many years. He found, on his return, that his moth- 
 er had died ; and after drinking deeper than before, 
 he suddenly formed the resolution to drink no more. 
 His enthusiastic nature assumed the phase of religious 
 zeal, and he became a firm believer in his Heaven-di- 
 rected mission against the rum traffic. The same 
 u iron rule " had driven an only daughter from home
 
 508 MINNIE IIEKMON. 
 
 because she married Hermon, then a worthy young 
 man, but belonging to another denomination. The 
 Elder is a lonely old man, unloved and shunned by 
 all, and cannot obtain hearers even, when speaking 
 against the Temperance Reform. 
 
 Alfred was kidnapped and imprisoned in the fast- 
 nesses of one of the counties of Northern Pennsylva- 
 nia. He owed his life to the fact that Skillott had 
 learned that he had become an heir to a large proper- 
 ty, and it was determined to frighten him into a sur- 
 render of the claim. 
 
 Howard is a man of sorrow; for he does not forget 
 the loss of his accomplished wife. Save now and 
 then a shadow which flits from the past, Minnie and 
 "Walter are happy. Their deeds are the best record 
 of their goodness and their standing in the commu- 
 nity where they live. 
 
 Old Mrs. Weston lives to rejoice over the Reforma- 
 tion. Its advent could not restore her son to her old 
 heart, but it will save other sons who are loved as she 
 loved hers.
 
 MISS BRAYTON DEVOTED TO THE CAUSE.
 
 CHAPTER XXXYI. 
 
 THE JOY OF DOING GOOD MINNIE ASD WALTER BE- 
 COME INTERESTED IN THE GOOD TEMPLAR MOVE- 
 MENT W ALTER MADE GRAND WORTHY TEMPLAR. 
 
 SHADOW and sunshine are set over against each 
 other in this life ; and whether we are living in the 
 gloom of an obscured sky, or in the brightness of an 
 unclouded firmament, the days, months, and years 
 roll on, and, ere we are aware, we find ourselves past 
 the noontide of life and our faces toward the setting 
 sun. Happy is it for us, when the threads of silver 
 begin to show themselves in the dark tresses that 
 have adorned our temples, if we can look back on a 
 life of usefulness, activity, and kindly deeds toward 
 our fellows. The joy of doing good will efface from 
 our memory the sorrows and woes of earlier days, or 
 leave with their remembrance that hallowed and 
 chastened sorrow which is compatible with the deep- 
 est and purest enjoyment, or, as Moore has so beauti- 
 fully sung 
 
 " E'en sorrow, touched by thee, grows bright 
 
 With more than rapture's ray; 
 As darkness shows us worlds of light 
 We never saw by day."
 
 512 
 
 Sucli had been the experience of our friends, Wal- 
 ter and Minnie Braytoh. Some years after the events 
 related in the preceding chapter, they had removed to 
 the vicinity of Hillsboro, Ohio, and in a pleasant 
 rural home they were striving to rear up their family 
 m the fear of God and the practice of all Christian 
 virtues. Walter was now a man of influence, and, 
 though not affluent, was yet the owner of a good 
 estate. He was an elder in the Presbyterian Church, 
 and bore a high reputation for piety and earnest 
 Christian character. Minnie, now known only as Mrs. 
 Brayton, except to her husband, who could never be 
 satisfied with any other than the pet name by which 
 he had known her in girlhood, was a rather grave, 
 matronly lady; but the occasional cheery laugh, and 
 the bright twinkle of her yet beautiful eyes, showed 
 that the sorrows of her youth had not drowned all 
 her natural joyousness, and that she did not consider 
 it necessary to be gloomy in order to be good. Five 
 children surrounded the family board olive-plants 
 their father called them, though their complexions 
 had very little of the olive tint. Of these, the oldest, 
 Henry Howard Brayton, who has already been intro- 
 duced, is now a fine, stalwart young man of twenty- 
 two, intelligent and cultured, and is soon to enter the 
 ministry, for which he has been preparing for some 
 years. Ida Maria, who comes next, is a young lady now 
 in her twentieth year a brave, generous-hearted girl, 
 with all her mother's early enthusiasm, and uniting 
 to deep piety a well-trained mind and a joyous, buoy- 
 ant spirit. She has had the advantage of a full
 
 THE WOMEN'S CRUSADE. 513 
 
 course of training in the Elmira Female College, 
 where she had for an intimate friend and room-mate 
 Carrie Hudson, the only daughter of our old friend, 
 Mortimer Hudson, Jr. ; a young lady of excellent 
 mind and heart. 
 
 Freddie, wha is the next in age, is an active and 
 amiable boy of sixteen, who spends his winters in 
 school, but, having a great love for farming life, is 
 becoming a valuable helper of his father on the farm. 
 Nellie, just turned of thirteen, and Wee Willie, the 
 baby, though now eight years old, and rejoicing in 
 boots, which he wears over his trousers, make up the 
 household circle. It had been one object with Wal- 
 ter Brayton, in removing to Ohio, to separate himself 
 and his interesting family as far as possible from all 
 association with persons and scenes which were con- 
 stantly reminding him and his wife of the sorrowful 
 scenes through which they had passed. Over and 
 over again there came up the remembrance of those 
 dreadful hours in prison ; of the ruin which the rum- 
 fiend had wrought among those nearest and dearest 
 to them ; of the violent death of Walter's father, and 
 the distressing close of Mr. Hermon's career ; and of 
 the narrow escape which Walter himself had had 
 from becoming as degraded a drunkard as any of the 
 rest. There would come over them both at times, 
 also, the terrible fear lest the inherited appetite for 
 drink which, as is well known, so often skips over 
 one generation to make itself felt with greater power 
 in the next, should re-appear in their children. 
 
 The reminiscences of the pusc, which thus made life
 
 514: MINNIE HERMOff. 
 
 bitter, could have been endured with more patience, 
 had there been in Oakvale any considerable measure 
 of permanent improvement in the matter of temper- 
 ance. But, as has been the case in many other places, 
 the reformation was spasmodic in its character; now 
 advancing . apparently with rapid strides, and then 
 receding almost to the low-watermark- of the old 
 times. . The Sons of Temperance had, as WB have 
 seen, made considerable progress, and had secured 
 many members to their Order; and the passage of 
 the Maine Law, while they were in the height of 
 their popularity, had produced for a tune grand 
 results. But, unfortunately, these were not enduring ; 
 the novelty wore off, and enthusiasm in regard to 
 the Order, gave place to indifference, until very 
 many of the Sons of Temperance became rather 
 Sons of Intemperance seven-tenths of them, accord- 
 ing to Dr. Chambers' statement, having broken the 
 pledge. The Maine Law was not enforced, and it 
 was claimed could not be, in the larger towns, and 
 the friends of Temperance having grown cold in 
 their zeal, the law was repealed after four or five 
 years of trial. It was inexpressibly painful to Wal- 
 ter Bray ton and his wife to see those "breathing 
 holes of hell," as Dr. Lyman Beecher so forcibly 
 described them, again open and sending out the 
 fumes of these poisonous liquors, to draw unwary 
 souls down to destruction. So long as it was possi- 
 ble to enforce the law and keep them closed, Walter 
 was indefatigable in his efforts to prevent this traffic 
 in souls ; but when this became impossible, in conse-
 
 THE WOMEN'S CRUSADE. 515 
 
 qnence of the repeal of the Maine Law, he felt almost 
 disheartened. There was, however, one organiza- 
 tion from which, for a time, he entertained some 
 hopes of good. It was the Independent Order of 
 Good Templars, like the Sons of Temperance a 
 secret order, but admitting both sexes to membership. 
 Originating in Onondaga County, N". Y., in 1852, it 
 had spread at first slowly, and afterward more rapidly 
 into other States and Territories, and into the pro- 
 vinces of British America. Its imposing ritual, and 
 the energy with which it was pushed, as well as its 
 features of female membership, and its permission of 
 official position to its lady-members, gave it a high 
 degree of popularity for a time, and it seemed to bid 
 fair to be a powerful agency for the overthrow of 
 intemperance. Its history, however, proved to be 
 one of great fluctuations. There were noble, ear- 
 nest spirits engaged in it, but there were also, as is 
 so often the case in secret organizations, many who 
 were only attracted to it as something new, and who 
 either imperiled the subordinate Lodges with which 
 they were connected by their jealousies and rivalries, 
 or, becoming indifferent as soon as the novelty wore 
 off, abandoned alike their obligations and their mem- 
 bership. This was particularly the case in New 
 York, Pennsylvania and Ohio. In the first named 
 State there was a membership in 1854 of 21,000, but 
 four years later there was but a single lodge in exist- 
 ence, and this had but a handful of members. It 
 subsequently regained more than its first prosperity, 
 and has now nearly 100,000 members in that State.
 
 516 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 Walter Erajton had joined it as soon as oppor- 
 tunity offered, and had been Grand Worthy Templar 
 of the Lodge in Oakvale; he had also brought his 
 children into it as soon as they were of sufficient age 
 to comprehend its obligations. But when all interest 
 seemed to be lost by the members, and it was impos- 
 sible to bring together a quorum at the appointed 
 Lodge meetings, and a similar state of things existed 
 throughout the State, while, under the excitement of 
 tiie beginning of the war, thousands of pledged Good 
 Templars forgot their vows, plunging into intoxica- 
 tion without hesitation or apparent consciousness of 
 wrong, he felt that this measure, like the previous 
 ones for subduing this giant evil, was of no avail, and 
 the old dread of a renewal of the scenes of the past, 
 and those painful apprehensions for the future of his 
 children, if they remained in Oakvale or its vicinity, 
 were renewed with such intensity as to make both 
 Walter and his wife at times exceedingly wretched. 
 Often did they consult together in regard to the best 
 course to adopt to avoid the evils and sorrows whose 
 dark wings seemed already to overshadow them. 
 Thus far their children had never had the slightest 
 intimation of the wretchedness and agony of the early 
 life of their parents, and they hoped almost against 
 hope to keep from them all knowledge of the bitter 
 past. 
 
 The hope was vain ; it was now the second year 
 of the war, when one Wednesday morning, Harry, a 
 bright, manly, interesting boy of teu years old, had, 
 as usual, been to school, but came running home, and
 
 THE WOMEN'S CKUSADE. 517 
 
 rushing to his mother, the tears rolling down his 
 cheeks, sobbed out, " Oh, mother ! it isn't true, is it ? 
 Jerry Lane got mad at me to-day, and he said he 
 said, 'You needn't feel so big, Hal Brayton, your 
 old granddad was a drunken old scamp, and he 
 helped murder a man so there.' I told him that 
 was a lie, but he said it was true, and everybody here 
 knew it. Oh, mother ! tell me that it isn't true I 
 can't go to school any more, if it is !" 
 
 Poor Minnie! her cup was full to overflowing. 
 She managed to evade any direct reply to Harry's 
 appeal, and rushed to her room, where soon after 
 Walter found her in a perfect agony of -tears. " Oh, 
 "Walter," she said, so soon as she could command her 
 feelings sufficiently to speak, " we cannot stay here. 
 "We must remove to some place far enough from this- 
 point to prevent our children from being taunted 
 with these horrible crimes and sorrows of the past. 
 Let us go anywhere, and at any sacrifice, to blot out 
 these dreadful memories. In another State, where 
 we shall be among strangers, we may be happy, and 
 our children never know such anguish as we have 
 experienced."
 
 CHAPTER XXXYII. 
 
 TWENTY YEARS LATEE REMOVAL OF MINNIE AND 
 
 WALTER TO OHIO THE PREVALENCE OF INTEMPER- 
 ANCE THERE HOW IS IT TO BE RESISTED? THE 
 
 WOMEN'S CRUSADE IDA'S LETTER TO CARRIE HUDSON. 
 
 WALTER was very willing to follow suggestions so 
 evidently judicious; and, after some inquiry, they 
 fixed upon the Ohio village, where we now find them, 
 as their future home. 
 
 The village had, on their first removal thither, but 
 a small population, and these largely farmers ; but a 
 branch railway from the Marietta road to Hillsboro 
 was soon constructed, and they were put in direct 
 communication with Cincinnati. The growth of the 
 village now became ragid, and it was soon reckoned 
 as a part of Hillsboro, in which township it lay. 
 Like many of the farming towns of Ohio, corn and 
 rye were the principal crops, and with too many of 
 the farmers the temptation to sell their grain to the 
 distillers was too strong to be resisted. Against this, 
 Walter Brayton had maintained a firm and steady 
 opposition. He had seen too much of the horrible 
 results of the liquor traffic to be willing to aid in any 
 way in the production of the vile liquid. At first, 
 and for some years, his course brought upon him 
 the enmity of his neighbors, who had no scruples in 
 turning wholesome grain into a virulent poison. He 
 was called a Pharisee, and several times threatened 
 for his manly and consistent course. But as time 
 passed, and the farms of these men grew poorer each
 
 THE WOMEN'S CRUSADE. 519 
 
 year, and their sons became addicted to drink, the 
 wiser and more prudent citizens began to see that his 
 course was the true one, and he stood higher in their 
 esteem than any other man in the town. 
 
 But these came to him and his estimable wife at 
 this time the renewal of their old fears, from the 
 rapid spread of intemperance in Hillsboro and the 
 adjacent towns. Their own children were indeed 
 spared thus far from the appetite for liquor. Harry 
 was a young man of exemplary life, and of remark- 
 ably pure and devoted piety ; and Freddie manifested 
 no taste for liquor, and had been a member of the 
 Good Templars ever since he was old enough to be 
 received into the order. Ida and Nellie were equally 
 free from any desire for strong drink in any form. 
 Relatives they had none in Jkit region ; and, except 
 an occasional visit from Dr. Howard and Alfred 
 Snyder, Minnie's uncle now no longer called " Crazy 
 Alf ," but an active, stern, and somewhat sad-visaged. 
 temperance reformer they had no communication 
 with Oak vale or its vicinity. 
 
 "Why, then, should they feel so deeply and keenly 
 anxious in regard to the spread of intemperance 
 around them ? It was because they had themselves 
 experienced so much sorrow from it. The iron had 
 entered their own souls ; and, as they saw young men 
 of great promise lured to drink the intoxicating cup, 
 and young women, full of gayety, life and animation, 
 offering it to their brothers and lovers, they looked 
 back shuddermgly to the fearful scenes they had wit- 
 nessed, and felt that something must be done to save
 
 520 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 these young men from a drunkard's grave and a 
 drunkard's eternity. What was the best and wisest 
 step to take ? How could they most effectually reach 
 and save those who were thus being led, blindfolded, 
 to destruction ? 
 
 " I have been talking with our pastor and the ses- 
 sion, to-day, about the terrible spread of intemper- 
 ance," said Walter one day to his wife, on his return 
 from Hillsboro, " but I cannot make them see it as I 
 do. Our pastor proposed to have a day of fasting 
 and prayer especially for the reformation of moderate 
 drinkers and drunkards, and he was right ; but Elder 
 
 and Deacon , both of whom have sons who 
 
 are going to destruction as fast as they can, couldn't 
 see any use in it. They thought young people would 
 be gay and lively, butj^iey didn't see any harm in it. 
 I told them that there was no safety for any man 
 who took a drop of the vile stuff; but they only 
 'laughed, and said 'Brother Brayton is a little fanat- 
 ical.' Oh ! I wish I could make them see the hor- 
 rors that are sure to come to their own homes, if their 
 sons keep on drinking. They would wake up then, 
 and their hair would stand on end with fright ! " 
 
 " I think," said Mrs. Brayton, " that there is but 
 one resource for us just now, and that is in earnest 
 and persistent prayer ; prayer that God will convert 
 our Legislature, and make them willing to enact 
 laws by which this traffic can be prevented ; prayer 
 for the rum-sellers and dealers in intoxicating drinks, 
 that they may be compelled by their own consciences 
 and the pressure of public sentiment to give up the
 
 THE WOMEN'S CETTSADE. 521 
 
 business prayer for these careless and over-indulgent 
 fathers /md mothers, that they may see the dreadful 
 results of their indifference; and especially prayer 
 for the young, that they may be delivered from 
 temptation." 
 
 " You are right, my dear Minnie," replied her hus- 
 band ; " and I believe that you and some of our other 
 good sisters have been praying for the Legislature to 
 some purpose already, for I heard to-day that the 
 Adair bill, which, you know, is for a local option law 
 that will enable us to close up the grog-shops if we 
 can get public opinion roused, is likely to pass." 
 
 " There will be more need of praying than ever in 
 that case," was Mrs. Brayton's reply. " There will 
 be no necessity for resorting to force if we can only 
 reach the hearts of the rum-eellers by the power of 
 faith and love." 
 
 " But, my dear," said Walter, " are you not reckon- 
 ing too much on the power of faith and love, in ex- 
 pecting that the hearts of rum-sellers can be moved 
 by anything short of force? Why, most of them 
 have no conscience and no feeling : they will never 
 give up their vile traffic unless they are compelled to 
 do so by the strong arm of the law." 
 
 " Dear Walter," said Mrs. Brayton, with the tears 
 glistening in her eyes, " have you forgotten that faith 
 can remove mountains ? that the prayer of faith 
 moves the hand that moves the world ? Have you 
 forgotten but, no ! neither you nor I can ever for- 
 get, what faith and prayer did for us. God can 
 move the hearts of these poor, sinful wretches, who
 
 522 MESTXIE HEEMON. 
 
 are dealing out death just as easily as He has moved 
 upon other hearts in the past." 
 
 " Well," said Walter, " I think you are right ; and 
 if there are more women with as much faith as you 
 have, you had better have a prayer-meeting of the 
 women of Hillsboro, to try the effect of prayer on 
 these hardened rum-sellers. I think there are some 
 of the men in the different churches who will be 
 willing to unite in praying for you, while you have 
 your meeting, and in sustaining you in your further 
 efforts, should you need their help." 
 
 Walter was thoroughly in earnest in this move- 
 ment, and he saw that his wife was equally so. He 
 called upon a number of the most devoted and ear- 
 nest men in the different congregations in Hillsboro, 
 and his wife did the same among the ladies, and the 
 next week it was announced that there would be a 
 ladies' prayer-meeting at one of the churches on 
 Wednesday of the following week, to pray especially 
 for the overthrow of intemperance, and that, at the 
 same time, there would be a meeting in another 
 church of Christian men, to pray for God's guidance 
 of the women in their efforts to overthrow this great 
 evil. The notices were given in all the churches, and 
 the matter was discussed throughout the town. To 
 the surprise of many, both meetings were largely at- 
 tended ; and such was the influence which pervaded 
 them, that even the rum-sellers began to talk with 
 bated breath about the prospects of a temperance re- 
 vival. The women's meeting, at which Mrs. Bray- 
 ton presided, was quiet and orderly, but was marked
 
 THE WOMEN'S CRUSADE. 523 
 
 by deep feeling, and its key-note seemed to have been 
 struck when Mrs. Brayton, in a few thoughtful, well- 
 considered words, said " that the object for which 
 they were especially called to pray at this time was, 
 that God would so soften the hearts of the dealers in 
 intoxicating liquors, that they might see the wicked 
 ness of the traffic and be persuaded to abandon it 
 forever." A daughter of Ex-Governor Trimble, of 
 Ohio, made the first prayer, and remained ever after 
 one of the most zealous workers in the cause. The 
 whole audience became greatly interested, and the 
 inquiry passed from lip to lip, " Is there not some- 
 thing that we can do to put a stop to this traffic m 
 the souls and bodies of men?" Another meeting 
 was appointed for the next day, Mrs. Brayton urging 
 all present to be persistent in both prayer and effort, 
 and not to cease their toils till the good work was 
 accomplished. 
 
 The meeting of the men at the same hour was also 
 interesting, and evinced a strong and earnest purpose 
 on the part of the best citizens of the town to arrest 
 the progress of intemperance by such means as should 
 seem to be best. The liquor-selling interest was 
 strong in numbers in Hillsboro. and had considerable 
 
 o f 
 
 wealth at its back, and the people who were selling 
 their grain to the distillers were not inclined to favor 
 any movement which would diminish this demand for 
 their grain. There were, moreover, as there are in 
 all such places, a considerable number of the more 
 respectable citizens, who, while they admitted in the 
 abstract the evils of the sale and use of intoxicating
 
 524 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 drinks, were unwilling to take any active steps to stop 
 it. " They liked a glass of wine occasionally them- 
 selves ; cider was a very pleasant drink, and ale and 
 beer were necessary occasionally ; then, too, the liquor 
 dealers were, some of them, very pleasant fellows, 
 and had interesting families ; they did not like to of- 
 fend them but, as for these low grog-shops, they did 
 not care how soon they were put down. As to the 
 druggists, most of whom sold liquors by the glass to 
 genteel customers, it would be positively wrong to 
 their patrons to compel them to give up this part of 
 their business, as it was well known that people might 
 need brandy or whiskey or rum for a medicine, when 
 it was not convenient to get a physician's prescription 
 for it." 
 
 To these respectable allies of the rum-seller Mr. 
 Brayton and his friends endeavored to show the hor- 
 rible results of the traffic, and pushed home the ques- 
 tion, " If your son or daughter had acquired a taste 
 for liquor, and could gratify it by a resort to these 
 drag stores and genteel liquor stores, would you not 
 feel that there should be some means of preventing 
 them from obtaining it so readily?" "Well, yes; 
 but then my sons and daughters are not fond of 
 drink." " Perhaps not," replied Mr. Brayton ; " but 
 somebody's sons and daughters are, and the moral law 
 requires you to love your neighbor as yourself." 
 
 There was much of this discussion going on in 
 Hillsboro for several days, and, as a result of the sue 
 cessive meetings, the women were wrought up to the 
 conviction that some mode of appeal, directly to the
 
 THE WOMEN'S CKUSADE. 525 
 
 liquor dealers, must be adopted and enforced in 
 such a way as to produce a salutary effect. Just at 
 this time, about the 20th of December, 1873 and 
 We are particular in regard to our dates here, because 
 these are events of history which we are recording 
 Dr. Dio Lewis, a well-known lecturer and reformer, 
 addressed the Hillsboro Lyceum ; and, at the close of 
 his lecture, having already seen how deeply the peo- 
 ple were interested in the question of temperance, 
 offered to deliver a free temperance lecture there. 
 His offer was gratefully accepted, and the largest 
 church in the town crowded. Dr. Lewis is a man 
 of great ability as an organizer, and on this oc- 
 casion he proposed to the women of Hillsboro the 
 formation of a Temperance League, and suggested 
 the following plan, which was substantially that pur- 
 sued subsequently all over Ohio and in other States. 
 He regarded it as absolutely necessaiy that they 
 should have one or two pubh'c meetings, or more, if 
 they chose, with the pastors of the various churches 
 on the platform, and that the public sentiment of the 
 best part of the community should be aroused and 
 arrayed against the traffic ; that the men should be 
 prepared to sustain the women in their efforts by 
 prayers, moral support, and pecuniary aid to any ex- 
 tent that might be necessary ; that committees if 
 possible, of volunteers of the very best women in 
 the town, should be appointed by the Temperance 
 League to go to the keepers of drinking-saloons, ho- 
 tels, drag stores, etc., taking with them forms of 
 pledges adapted to their several cases, previously
 
 526 MINNIE HERMON. 
 
 drawn up, pledging them to cease retailing liquor for 
 a beverage, and that these committees of three, four, 
 or six ladies should courteously request them to sign 
 these pledges and stop selling liquor. If they com- 
 plied with the request and carried out the pledge in 
 good faith, the end desired would be obtained. If 
 they refused, the women were to endeavor to per- 
 suade them by exhortation and urgent pleading ; and, 
 failing in this, to ask permission to sing and pray in 
 the saloon, store, or hotel, and to continue this by re- 
 lays of committees, offering the pledge to all who 
 came as well as to the proprietor. In some instances 
 it might be necessary to keep up a siege on these 
 places from morning till night, and perhaps from daj 
 to day, but eventually the power of faith, prayer, and 
 earnest work would be seen in the surrender even of 
 the most obdurate. This plan was very heartily ap- 
 proved^ and, on the 23d of December, the League 
 was formed and work commenced in earnest. Dr. 
 Lewis proceeded from Hillsboro to Washington C. EL, 
 Fayette Co., about twenty-five miles distant, where 
 he found a similar state of preparation, and, on the 
 25th of December, inaugurated a similar work. From 
 these two points this great temperance movement, 
 which has since spread over the entire land, took its 
 first departure. Dr. Lewis was called further West 
 by his engagements, but, early in February, returned 
 to Ohio, and rendered valuable assistance in extend- 
 ing the work for about three weeks. 
 
 The success of the movement was greatest in the 
 Einaller towns and villages. In the larger cities the
 
 THE WOMEN'S CEUSADE. 527 
 
 opposition was so great, and the measures adopted by 
 the liquor dealers to defend their traffic so violent, 
 or so crafty, that many of the women shrunk from 
 encountering the insults to which they were sub- 
 jected. Still, even in these places much good was 
 accomplished ; many were led to abandon the traffic, 
 and thousands signed the pledge. But in most of the 
 smaller towns and villages, where there were from 
 ten to sixty liquor saloons, the traffic was by per- 
 sistent effort entirely broken up. At no point among 
 these were there more difficulties encountered, or 
 more patient labor bestowed, than in Hillsboro. 
 The town had a population of from 3,500 to 4,000, 
 and more than thirty places in which liquor was sold. 
 The first month's labor reduced these to five or six ; 
 but some of these were very obstinate. One drug- 
 gist, before whose place the women had set up theii 
 tent or tabernacle, and had held daily meetings f 01 
 weeks, procured an injunction which was served on 
 one hundred and sixty-eight persons, against their 
 holding these meetings and commenced a suit, lay- 
 ing his damages at $10,000 for the interruption to his 
 business. The excitement was so great that the venue 
 was changed to another county, but he was finally 
 defeated and relinquished the sale, and at the end of 
 three months the entire traffic in liquor ceased there. 
 In "Washington, Fayette Co., the other starting-point 
 of this new departure, the struggle was not so long ; 
 there were not so many stores, and all were car- 
 ried within a month and those out of the corpora- 
 tion limits not long after. The good work spread
 
 528 MINNIE HEEMON. 
 
 not only over all the State, but into Indiana, Illinois, 
 Pennsylvania, Kentucky, Tennessee, New York, and 
 the New England States. In Ohio, by the 24th of 
 February, it was reported tliat 336 diiuking saloons 
 had been closed, and the business of nearly as many 
 more completely broken up ; that more than 20,000 
 names had been signed to the pledge. At that date 
 a convention was held at Columbus, and a State Wo- 
 man's Temperance League organized. Subsequent 
 reports showed a great increase, both in the number 
 of saloons closed and in the signers of the pledge. 
 
 We need not say that, in this great movement, both 
 Walter and Mrs. Brayton were efficient and patient 
 workers. Mrs. Brayton, from constitutional diffi- 
 dence, did not seek to become a leader ; but she gave 
 herself up to the work, and was often compelled to 
 lead when she would have preferred a humbler posi- 
 tion. But we shall best show what she did accom- 
 plish, by allowing Ida Brayton to tell, in a letter to 
 her friend, Carrie Hudson, the story of this temper- 
 ance crusade, and of her mother's part in it. 
 
 HILLSBOKO, March , 1874. 
 
 MY DEAR CARRIE: Is it possible that nearly 
 three months have elapsed since the date of my last, 
 when hitherto I have been the most punctual of cor- 
 respondents ? To me the time has seemed incredibly 
 short, as it always does when one is unusually busy. 
 Shall I tell you what it is that has so absorbed my 
 thoughts and attention that, for the nonce, even my 
 dearest Carrie has been almost forgotten ?
 
 THE WOMEN'S CRUSADE. 531 
 
 You have seen accounts in the papers of the Tem- 
 perance Movement, or rather, Woman's Temperance 
 Movement, as it is termed, and may at first be some- 
 what surprised, to learn that your " quiet little puss," 
 as you used so persistently to call me in our school- 
 life, is engaged heart and soul in the work. Don't 
 start I have grown neither bold nor boisterous, but 
 only terribly in earnest in this over-mastering desire 
 to have some little part in helping to stay the tide of 
 woe which is sweeping over our beloved land. You 
 know that my sweet mother is always foremost in 
 every good work, but into this she throws her whole 
 soul. Father not only fully approves of her course, 
 but is her counsellor and support in all that she does. 
 They are always so thoroughly united in their views 
 and feelings, that it is no more than I would expect ; 
 but, you know, there are many men who, through 
 false pride, object to their wives taking a prominent 
 stand in any public movement. My own espousal of 
 the cause was very sudden. I had been out of town 
 for a visit of several days, and, upon my return 
 home, entered mother's room unannounced, thinking 
 to take her by surprise. I found her in earnest con- 
 versation with father, and as she turned toward me, 
 the glow upon her countenance gave it an almost 
 heavenly beauty. " What good thing has happened ? " 
 I exclaimed ; and, as soon as the kisses of welcome 
 had been received, I was informed of the new move- 
 ment just inaugurated. " Your mother has found 
 her mission," said father, his voice trembling with 
 feeling, " and I am persuaded that she has put her 
 22
 
 532 MINNIE HEKMON. 
 
 hand to a great and mighty work." " Ton know, 
 Walter," was the quiet reply, "I must i^wrk as 
 well as pray." Do you wonder, Carrie dear, that 
 catching the inspiration, I placed my hand in hers, 
 saying : " Please let me work with you, mother ; " 
 and so we have gone, hand in hand, from that tune, 
 though, as you will readily believe, her zeal is more 
 wide-awake and enduring than mine. Repeatedly 
 I have been aroused from sleep by the pressure of 
 her lips upon my forehead before daylight, hurrying 
 me to an early breakfast, and then to the morning 
 prayer-meeting as a preparation for the round of 
 saloon-visiting during the day. You- may depend 
 upon one thing, I do not tarry long at the toilet, over 
 my back-hair, in these days. There is no time for 
 any fooling with fashions. And yet, Carrie dear, 
 this " Crusade," as they term it, is not all poetry, by 
 any means. * There is, oh, so much that would damp- 
 en one's ardor in a less vital cause ! Kevilings and 
 curses from the low and degraded ; threats which al- 
 most make the blood curdle in one's veins ; and, 
 sometimes, even water and beer thrown upon us as 
 we are bowed in prayer. It is so dreadful, too, to be 
 surrounded by a disgraceful rabble, that often my 
 very limbs have trembled beneath me, and I should 
 have fallen in the way, had not mother's courage and 
 strength held me up. There is strength, also, in the 
 thought that we are battling for human life, and 
 more than all, to save souls from death ; and so it is 
 that neither drenching rain, driving snow, or bitter 
 cold has power to quench our ardor. Upon one oc-
 
 THE WOMEN'S CRUSADE. 533 
 
 casion the excitement here ran fearfully high. A 
 tabernacle had been erected for our use before the 
 store of a druggist who persisted in selling liquor by 
 the glass. In his anger he got out an injunction 
 against 168 ladies, in which number mother and my- 
 self were included, for interfering with his business, 
 laying his damages at $10,000. The turmoil was so 
 great, that it became necessary to remove the trial 
 to another county. He was defeated, however, and 
 subsequently came over to the right side. 
 
 You have heard of Dr. Lewis ; but, unless you 
 have sat under one of his thrilling appeals in behalf 
 of the cause, you can have no idea of his power as 
 a speaker. Many of the most bitter opposers of tem- 
 perance were melted down under his eloquence, and 
 have come out fully as firm and strong upon the 
 right side. Upon several occasions I have accom- 
 panied mother to Washington, in Fayette county, 
 where the work was simultaneous with that of our 
 town, and only wish there was time for me to tell 
 you what we saw and heard there. One hardened 
 rum-seller prayed for an injunction against the ladies, 
 on the ground that their prayers were directed not to 
 heaven, but at the persons whom they wished to 
 coerce into giving up their business. Judge Safford 
 granted the injunction, and the tabernacle erected 
 for the shelter of the ladies was demolished. As in 
 our own place, there were great indignities offered, 
 and much cruel persecution endured, but followed 
 with glorious results. I must tell you of a little in- 
 cident concerning Mrs. C., who leads the movement
 
 534 "MEsrinE HEKMON. 
 
 in "Washington. After the ladies had been at work 
 for some time at the saloon of a stubborn dealer, he 
 lost patience, and rudely told them to go home and 
 attend to their own business. Thereupon they also 
 lost their temper, and told the man that if his con- 
 duct was repeated, they would send their husbands 
 after him to enforce the law, as they were anxious 
 already to do. This did not mend the saloon-keeper's 
 evil mood. But when the ladies retired and prayed 
 over the matter until nearly midnight, they saw that 
 they had not acted in the spirit of the Master, nor in 
 accordance with the true theory of the movement. 
 Accordingly, on the next morning they went to his 
 saloon, admitted that they had been in the wrong, 
 and asked his pardon. From that moment his fate 
 was sealed, and on the next day he unconditionally 
 surrendered. 
 
 Other victories were won, and now there is not 
 a rum-shop in either Hillsboro or Washington. 
 Toward the last of January I accompanied mother 
 to New Vienna, where the good cause was progress- 
 ing. There were some exceedingly obstinate cases 
 there, among whom was a Mr. Yan Pelt, who at the 
 outset drenched the ladies with dirty water and beer. 
 He also brandished an axe in order to terrify them. 
 They, however, kept guard over his saloon, the de- 
 tachments relieving each other every two hours, 
 serving daily, through storm and sunshine, for a 
 period of three weeks, when he finally succumbed to 
 the influence of prayer, and hung out the white flag 
 as a signal of unconditional surrender. So complete
 
 THE WOMEN'S CRUSADE. 535 
 
 was his conversion, that since that day he has been a 
 faithful and earnest ally in the work, bringing to it 
 all his energies, and taking the field like a new 
 Paul. 
 
 Soon after this we went to Xenia, which you know 
 is a large town, and had a great number of drinking 
 saloons. The women there had thoroughly prepared 
 themselves for the work, and were full of faith and 
 zeal. The leader there was Mrs. James Monroe, a 
 friend of mother's, a member of the Presbyterian 
 Church, and a lady of the highest standing. The 
 worst drinking saloon in the town had the very ap- 
 propriate name of " The Shades of Death," and was 
 doing an immense business. Mrs. Monroe and her 
 band of praying women laid siege to this place, and, 
 after pleading with the proprietor most urgently to 
 quit the business, without seeming to make any im- 
 pression, as he would not allow them to pray and 
 sing in his saloon, they set up a tabernacle in front 
 of it and beseiged him with their prayers and hymns 
 from morning till night for three weeks. He seemed 
 to become more hardened every day, and some of 
 the women were almost ready to be discouraged, be- 
 lieving that his heart was too hard to be moved; 
 but Mrs. Monroe had still strong faith, and they held 
 out. 
 
 She had sent for mother to come and help them, 
 and we reached Xenia on the morning of the 18th 
 of February, and went directly to the little tabernacle, 
 where we were heartily welcomed by Mrs. Monroe 
 and the other ladies. They had already had one
 
 536 MDiXIE HEIiLKXN. 
 
 prayer-meeting that morning, but there were no 
 signs of any change. Bloated topers crowded into the 
 saloon, and came out again wiping their mouths with 
 the back of their hands, and occasionally muttering a 
 curse on those " plaguey women that kept spying 
 around." The saloon-keeper was busy at hig bar, 
 and seemed utterly indifferent. It was said that the 
 distillers in Cincinnati not only furnished this man 
 with liquor free, but had sent him money to induce 
 him to hold out. Well, Mrs. Monroe made one of 
 the sweetest and most touching prayers I ever heard, 
 and we had just begun to sing our favorite hymn 
 
 "Nearer, my God, to thee," 
 
 when this rum-seller rushed out of his saloon, and 
 running up to the tabernacle door, called out, " Mrs. 
 Monroe, 1 can't stand it any longer I give in. The 
 boys are rolling out my whiskey barrels now, and I 
 want you to see me spill the whole of it into the 
 gutter." We all hurried to the door ; it was snow- 
 ing hard, but there, sure enough, were the whiskey 
 barrels tumbling out, and as soon as the first one 
 reached the gutter, the saloon-keeper struck its head 
 a mighty blow with his axe, and the vile poison soon 
 flowed in a stream down the street. Barrel after 
 barrel was served in this way, till the saloon was 
 emptied. The poor topers looked aghast at such a 
 waste, but the saloon-keeper's face was radiant with 
 joy, and the crowd which had gathered shouted over 
 the triumph of temperance. The dear women who 
 had fought such a good fight, and whose faith had
 
 THE WOMEN'S CEUSADE. 537 
 
 not faltered, were weeping, laughing and praying, 
 all together. Mrs. Monroe jumped up on a dry- 
 goods box and struck up tlie grand old doxology 
 
 "Praise God from whom all blessings flow," 
 
 and everybody joined in, the saloon-keeper, who 
 had really a very fine voice, singing with a will. In 
 a few minutes, the church-bells all over town began 
 to ring merrily for the victory, and within an hour 
 it was telegraphed all over the state. 
 
 There was another scene which I witnessed in 
 Xenia, that brought tears to the eyes of strong men. 
 A large band of young school-girls, led by their 
 teacher, took their station before the saloons, and 
 sang with inexpressible pathos, such songs as, " Say ! 
 Mr. Barkeeper, has father been here ? " and " Father, 
 dear father, come home ! " Oh ! these little voices 
 have a wonderful power of reaching the heart. 
 Everybody was so terribly in earnest in Xenia, that 
 I do not believe the siege will be raised until the 
 last liquor saloon has surrendered. 
 
 It was very hard for us to tear ourselves away from 
 Xenia, but as mother was one of the delegates to the 
 Convention at Columbus, we were compelled to re- 
 sume our journey. 
 
 Arriving there on Saturday, we attended a large 
 temperance meeting the same evening, where there 
 were about 1,200 ladies assembled, the majority of 
 whom were ready to do and suffer for the further- 
 ance of the good cause. Previous to the Conference, 
 a mass meeting was held, intended to strengthen and
 
 538 MDTSIE HEKMON. 
 
 encourage the women of the city in the work upon 
 which they were about to enter. Dr. Lewis was 
 there, and " Mother Stewart," of Springfield, an 
 accomplished and most lovely old lady, over seventy 
 years of age, but with all the zeal and fervor of youth, 
 also the New Yienna convert, Van Pelt. Women 
 constituted seven-eighths of the assemblage, did near- 
 ly all the speaking, and soon became almost enthusi- 
 astic enough to march in a body upon the dram-shops 
 of the State capital. The speeches were all in re- 
 markably good taste, and some were really eloquent. 
 Tears were brought to many eyes, the house re- 
 sounded with " Amens " and " Hallelujahs " from 
 the listening men, and, after every speech, the crowd 
 arose and sang one of the songs of the campaign with 
 thrilling effect. These songs were the well-known 
 hymns, " Nearer, my God, to Thee," " All Hail the 
 Power of Jesus' Name," and " Our God is March- 
 ing On." Mrs. Mattie McClelland Brown and 
 Mother Stewart held the almost breathless attention 
 of the audience. 
 
 The convention met in the City Hall. Several 
 hundred delegates were present, and the platform 
 was occupied by twenty-five clergymen. Dio Lewis 
 was called to the chair, and, after a most fervent 
 prayer by Mother Stewart, the doctor invited the 
 delegates to the platform, which proved entirely too 
 small for such a large body. Reports were read con- 
 cerning the progress of the crusade in different towns, 
 and many a thrilling story was told by those who 
 were personally cognizant of the facts. Messages
 
 THE WOMEN'S CKUSADE. 539 
 
 were also received from time to time, from different 
 points, announcing new victories, and calling forth 
 fresh rejoicings, and a "Woman's State Temperance 
 League was formed. But, Carrie dear, mj letter is 
 growing too long. Come and see me, for I cannot 
 unburden my heart on paper, and what you read in 
 the papers seems so tame in the light of reality. I 
 shall continue in the good work, for there is a great 
 deal of finishing-up to do yet, and, when all is done 
 at home, there is enough to do abroad. Hoping to 
 see you soon, and believing that you will patiently 
 endure this infliction for the love you bear the cause, 
 I am, always, your loving 
 
 IDA MAT BEAYTON.
 
 54:0 MTNNIE HEEMON. 
 
 THE WOMEN'S CRUSADE. 
 
 BT LOUISE S. UPHAM. 
 
 OH ! hark, what cry is sounding, borne clear upon the air ! 
 " Ring, bells, throughout the nation, ring, ring the call to 
 
 prayer P 
 The women now are rising, and the Help in which they 
 
 trust 
 Will give them strength for victory in the cause that is so 
 
 just I 
 The wires flash joyous greeting ; back and forth, from East 
 
 to "West, 
 
 The words are, " God is with us, and this, of all, is best 1" 
 Ah 1 sordid hearts may fear and quake, for well indeed they 
 
 know 
 The courage born of suffering wiil strike the surest blow. 
 
 Ho ! all long-suffering mothers, wives, daughters, sing and 
 
 pray, 
 
 For a new crusade they usher your emancipation-day. 
 They rally round no standard, with no helmet and no shield, 
 Save their womanly endeavors, but will never yield the 
 
 field. 
 They do not work with pledge alnne that says, " We will not 
 
 taste 
 
 The soul-destroying liquors that run our lives to waste 1" 
 At evil's root they are striking, right valiantly and well, 
 And the pledge which they insist on is, " We'll never, never 
 
 sell !" 
 
 They bravely enter places where men would blush for 
 
 shame 
 To be found by those who know them by their honored 
 
 household name.
 
 THE WOMEN'S CKUSADE. 541 
 
 They have found in bar-rooms children, who their little arms 
 
 would twine 
 Hound a father's neck, beseeching that he their pledge would 
 
 sign. 
 
 They seek no law, no conflict ; their labor is of love ; 
 Their help, the rule of kindness ; their guidance, God above. 
 O bells ! ring out, ring boldly ; sound the tocsin everywhere, 
 While heart to heart is thrilling with woman's call to prayer. 
 
 On, on, heroic women ! your warfare cannot fail, 
 
 E'en now your foes are shaking like reeds before a gale ; 
 
 A million lives are sighing for truer liberty, 
 
 A million souls are waiting your glorious victory. 
 
 Urged by the suffering legion who have stirred you to the strife, 
 
 Down with the sordid traffic that is taking more than life ! ] 
 
 The day is yours; charge nobly. Crush the tyrant every* 
 
 where I 
 While the tocsin-peal is ringing brave woman's call to prayer. 
 
 BATTLE-HYMN OF THE WOMEN'S CRUSADE. 
 
 BY KEV. WILLIAM HUNTER, D.D. 
 
 THE light of truth is breaking ; 
 
 On the mountain tops it gleams ; 
 Let it flash along our valleys, 
 
 Let it glitter on our streams, 
 Till all our land awakens 
 
 In its flush of golden beams. 
 Our God is marching on. 
 
 With purpose strong and steady, 
 In the Great Jehovah's name, 
 
 We rise to snatch our kindred 
 
 From the depths of woe and shame ;
 
 54:2 MIXNIE HEEMON. 
 
 And the jubilee of freedom 
 To the slaves of sin proclaim. 
 Our God is marching on. 
 
 From morning's early watches 
 Till the setting of the sun, 
 
 We will never flag nor falter 
 In the work we have begun, 
 
 Till the forts have all surrendered, 
 And the victory is won. 
 Our God is marching on. 
 
 We wield no carnal weapon, 
 And we hurl no fiery dart ; 
 
 But with words of love and reason 
 We are sure to win the heart, 
 
 And persuade the poor transgressor 
 To prefer the better part. 
 Our God is marching on. 
 
 When dawns the day of terror, 
 And the awful trumpet's sound 
 
 Shall waken up the sleepers 
 From beneath the quaking ground, 
 
 May no blood of fallen brothers 
 On our startled souls be found I 
 Our God is marching on. 
 
 Our strength is in Jehovah, 
 And our cause is in His care ; 
 
 With Almighty iirms to help us, 
 We have faith to do and dare, 
 
 While confiding in the promise 
 That the Lord will answer prayer. 
 Our God is marching on.
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from which it was borrowed. 
 
 ' 
 
 (# APR 13 1998 
 MAY - 1 1998
 
 Ill I I II ' 
 
 A 000 038 849 6