STRIKER STOWE'S WAY

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Feb 12, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 15.

STRIKER STOWE'S WAY.

For years Striker Stowe, a tall, powerful Scotchman, had held the position of "boss striker" at the steel works. Nearly all the men in his department were hard drinkers, and he was no exception to the rule. But one day it was announced among the workmen that he had become religious; and, sure enough, when pressed to take a drink, he said:—

"I shall never drink mair, lads. No drunkard can inherit the kingdom of God."

The knowing ones smiled and said: "Wait a bit; wait till hot weather—until July. When he gets as dry as a gravel pit, he will give in. He can't help it."

But right through the hottest months he toiled, the sweat pouring off in streams, yet seemed never tempted to drink.

Finally, as I was taking the men's time one evening, I stopped and spoke to him. "Stowe," I said, "you used to take considerable liquor. Don't you miss it?"

"Yes," he said emphatically.

"How do you manage to keep away from it?"

"Weel, just this way. It's now tan o'clock, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Weel, to-day is the twentieth o' the month. From seven to eight I asked that the Lord would help me. He did so, an' I put down a dot on the calendar right close to the twenty. From eight to nine he kep' me, and I put down another dot. From nine till tan he's kep' me, and noo I gie him the glory as I put down the third dot. Just as I make these, I pray, 'O Lord, halp me—halp me to fight it for another hour.'"

"How long shall you keep this up?" I inquired.

"All o' my life," was the honest reply. "It keeps me sae full o' peace an' happiness that I wouldn't gie it up for anything. It is as if he took me by the hand and said: 'Wark awa', Striker Stowe; I'm wi' ye. Dinna be fearfu'. You teck care o' yeer regular wark, an' I'll see to the de'il an' the thirst, an' they shall na trouble ye.'"—The Contributor.