p. 9 | A TEMPERANCE STORY by E. D. S.

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 15, 1896

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 22, No. 41.

A TEMPERANCE STORY.

By E. D. S.

[Founded on fact.]

THE scene of my story is a familiar one to any person who has taken a stroll down any of the usually little-frequented streets of a large city. "Shantytown," for such was the name of a particular portion of the city to which our attention is called, was rightly named.

The home, if such it might be called, of Jim Black and his family might have been taken by a stranger to be the stable of a dumb brute, rather than the dwelling-place of a human being. The memory of the oldest inhabitant could not go back to the time when the tumble-down house had known a decent roof, and the windows had made the acquaintance of but few panes of glass. To be sure Jim worked a little, and now and then his wife took in washing; but their united earnings went mostly to Jake, the saloon-keeper, for beer.

Jenny Daily was a bowery girl when James married her a few years before, and he earned most of his money as bartender and general manager of Jake Culver's saloon and billiard hall. Night after night in the saloon, beer-gardens, and cheap theaters brought them to the condition they are in when our story begins.

Some five years before our story begins, a bright baby boy made his appearance in the

home, but the little stranger was not welcome, and many a time would he have gone hungry but for the kindness of Widow Jenks, who kept a notion store around the corner. He was of a tender heart, and loved companionship; and, as is usually the case when deprived of loving companionship at home, sought it among the city "arabs" that frequented the streets around his home. Of late his father had been more abusive than usual, and Charley found it better to remain away from home than to suffer the cruel treatment that he was sure to receive from his tyrannical father.

His mother was rarely ever at home long enough for him to be acquainted with her, and she cared very little where he went, only so that he did not bother her. It was to her credit, however, that when she did chance to be at home and in her right mind, she never beat him as his father did, consequently, with all her faults and neglect of him, he loved her more than he did his father.

One afternoon in December, as Charley was sauntering along the street, he chanced to meet a little playmate who was going to a mission school not far away, and having nothing else to amuse him, went along with her. There was a room full of children, for it was the regular day for sewing school. The children under the leadership of Miss Saird, the missionary, were singing when our little friends entered. Charley became interested at once, and when the leader, after the singing was over, began talking about the use of intoxicating liquors and what they would lead to if indulged in, the tender heart of the little boy was touched, and in spite of him tears rolled down his cheeks. So earnest was the leader in her talk that she took little notice of the fact that a man came in and whispered something in Charley's ear, and then walked out and disappeared down the street.

As soon as she had finished talking, each class began working on the garments which were to be the property of each individual member when finished. This being Charley's first day there, he was given a piece of cloth on which to practice, and he busied himself trying to sew a button on it, while in his mind he was revolving the words of the missionary.

As the children filed out of the room at the close of school that night, Charley remained behind, and with tears in his eyes poured his story into Miss Saird's ears. "My pa do all those things that you say is wrong," he said. "That man who came and spoke to me told me that I must not go home now, because my pa has come home drunk, and if I go home now he will whip me."

"Where do you live?" said Miss Saird, becoming interested in his story.

"I live at 110 A Street," he answered. "Will you come and see me?"

"Yes," answered his new-found friend, "I will walk around that way and see your father and mother."

Mr. Black was in a beastly state of intoxication, and his wife was little better, when our friends entered, and she could do little that day except to promise Charley that she would be sure to call again. She resolved to do her best for the boy.

Early the next morning she again sought an interview with Charley's parents. She was intending in a short time to go for a vacation to her home in a distant state, and after a great deal of talking succeeded in getting permission of his parents to take him with her. "Be sure to bring him back with you, for I have a standing contract with Jim Daily, the gambler, to give him a position in his gambling hall to learn him how to make money by his wits," said the besotted father.

She saw that to remove him from his surroundings permanently would be impossible at that time, but to save him from such a life must be her mission.

Bright and early one morning Charley found himself on the train with his friend, the missionary, bound for her home in Indiana. A ride of one night and a day brought them to the home of the missionary, whose father, Mr. Saird, the farmer, took them in his comfortable carriage to her home, where a hearty welcome and a bountiful repast prepared for them by her mother, awaited them.

Charley was given the freedom of the farm, and right heartily did he accept of the invitation to help Farmer Saird milk his cows and tend the sheep. Milk never tasted so good as it did at milking time, when some of it found its way to Charley's mouth. Indeed every day had its pleasures. There were rides in the old farm wagon to the woods after wood to burn, and evenings spent in cracking nuts that Robert had gathered in the early fall. The battles fought in the snow with the farmer's son would have made the heart of the oldest veteran tingle with joy at the remembrance of similar battles fought in his youth. Every day Charley learned new things about life and for the first time in his existence spent a few weeks in a true home.

The time came altogether too soon for him to go back to the city, and he cried bitterly. His home seemed more miserable than ever to him. His friend, however, had her plans for him, and after repeated calls and much urging succeeded in obtaining permission of his parents for him to go into the office of Dr. S——, the physician who was a friend of her and her work, and had promised to take him into his employ as errand boy.

After a term of years, he, with the help of his friends, the doctor and the farmer's wife and daughter, the missionary, succeeded in completing a course in medicine.

Ten years later, when, after a long absence from the scene of her early labors, Miss Saird again visited Charley's home, she found things very much changed from what they were when first she visited the wretched shanty where he lived. Instead of the old rickety house there stands a fine new dwelling, in front of which is a sign—

CHAS. BLACK, M.D.,

Physician and Surgeon.

Inside the change is equally apparent. Instead of the larder being empty, it is full now. The happy and contented faces of James Black and wife, as they sit by the fireside and talk over old times, tell more eloquently than words can the joy in their hearts and home since, by the help of their kind friend, the missionary, and the greater Friend, who sent the missionary, whisky went out of their home, and peace and prosperity came in.

Nor did the work stop here, for in his active business life Charles Black finds many a young man in danger of being ruined by the intoxicating cup and the evils of the world; and, mindful of how he received a helping hand in his time of need, he takes the needy by the hand and tries to lead them from the snares of Satan into the paths of right and truth; while she who helped him in his youth, in her declining years is reminded of the promise, "In due season we shall reap, if we faint not."