p. 681 | A TEMPERANCE HERO

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Sep 4, 1893

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 19, No. 43.

A TEMPERANCE HERO.

THE days of heroism are never past, and the history of temperance in the days when it was everywhere denounced would afford some noble specimens. I have often spoken of Willie Bartlett, and it will interest those of your readers who admire British pluck, wherever it is found, to read of his trial and triumph. Willie's father was a noble father, one of the multitude whom the drink sweeps away, who are said to be "nobody's enemies but their own"—a saying terribly false, as Willie's mother and fatherless children soon felt. Burdened with debt, and with six small children to support, her prospects were dark indeed. Early in life, however, she had become a true Christian, and, though her husband, who had once walked with her in the narrow path, had been led away by the drink fiend, she remained faithful, and now that the day of trouble had come, she knew where to go for support and guidance. After much consideration and prayer, she determined to open a little shop in one of the suburbs of the town in which she resided. For some time she had a hard struggle, but God blessed her efforts, and the sky began to brighten.

Willie, who was a sharp, observant boy, was very much impressed with her success, and one day said to her:—

"Mother, I can't think how it is so many people come to your shop."

"Can't you?" said his mother. "What puzzles you?"

"Why," said he, "a lot of them come from right the other end of the town, and I can't think why they pass so many shops and come here."

"Willie," said she, "you are fond of ciphering. Get your slate, and tell me how far off people must live that God cannot bring them to my shop."

This way of putting it made a great impression on the boy, and did much to mould his character and shape his future life.

After a while Willie's mother determined to apprentice him to his father's trade, and, after some negotiations, the master agreed to take him. Having a high regard for the fa

ther, the master took him into the works, and gave him in charge of his principal foreman. As soon as the master had left, the foreman said:—

"Well, Willie, we'll make a man of thee here for thy father's sake, and we must have a footing to drink thy success; and as I know money is not very plentiful at home, I will pay for it myself," and immediately one of the other lads was sent for a quart of beer.

Poor Willie was bewildered with this arrangement, for his mother had trained him up a strict abstainer, and had taught him to hate his father's murderer—the drink. The beer was soon brought, and the men gathered round, and each drank to Willie's success. Then the foreman poured out a glass and offered it to Willie:—

"Now, my lad, drink success to all." Willie quietly replied: "I am a teetotaler, and never touch the drink."

Irritated at the boy's reply, the foreman said: "None of that nonsense. We'll have no teetotalism here. Take the drink at once."

Willie said: "I promised mother I would never touch the drink and I never will."

"Look here," said the man, "we are not going to have two masters here, so drink it up."

"I cannot and I will not," said Willie.

Mad with the boy's rebellion against his orders, the foreman said: "This is all nonsense. You will have it in you or over you."

"Well," said Willie, "I can't help it. I will never drink. You can throw it over me if you like. I have brought here a clean jacket and a good character. You may spoil my jacket if you will, but you shall never spoil my character."

Struck with the boy's earnest look, the man's better nature prevailed, and, turning away, he said to his mates:—

"He's a rum one, but I believe he'll make a man."

The prophecy was right, for to-day Willie is a prominent temperance worker, and is at the head of a large establishment noted for their intelligence and high principle.—Pacific.