THE HOUSE AND FAMILY OF MORRIS--HE NEARLY KILLS LITTLE HARRY.
When Morris arrived at his home after he left Porter's, he found
tea ready, and his wife and children about to partake of it. When
he entered, the children, who were always anxious as to the
condition of their father, discovered immediately that he was in a
state which would cause him to be on the alert to discover some
slight or insult which would justify him in being cross.
"Why did you not wait tea for me?" he asked gruffly; "you must
have been desperately hungry when you could not wait for a few
moments."
"Now, Henry," answered his wife, "you know it is an hour after our
regular tea-time; and I am sure, if you will only think of it, you
will remember that lately you have been very irregular in your
habits. We have several times waited tea for you until it was
almost spoiled, and then you did not come."
"You knew well enough I would be here in time to-night, because
before I left I told you I would; and it is no use of your trying
to get out of it in that manner. I ain't a fool."
"I don't remember, Henry, your promising to be home for tea; and
if I did, I could not have depended upon your promise, for, you
know, lately you have disappointed us so often that we can no
longer trust your word. Oh, Henry! I only wish I could trust you
as I once could, and then there would not be a happier woman in
Bayton."
"I don't want any of your snivelling, Nell," he said; "I'd rather
have something to eat."
The supper was eaten in silence, the children being afraid to
speak, and Mrs. Morris's heart was too full for conversation. She
sat silently rocking in her low arm-chair, the tears welling from
her eyes and chasing each other down her cheeks. She had noticed
the scratches upon her husband's face, which he had received in
his recent fight. She did not ask him how he came by them, for she
well knew how violent his temper was; but she was almost certain
he had been mixed in some low bar-room affray, and this thought
pained her beyond measure.
When they were married he was a blacksmith in good circumstances,
and carried on an extensive business; but he had for the last few
years been drinking deeply, and, as a consequence, had so
neglected his business that most of his customers left him; and
this, with what he spent in drink, had so reduced him in
circumstances that he and his family were now very poor. He had
desisted from drink when the Dunkin Act came in force, and for a
while his home was cheerful again, for a great sorrow was lifted
from it, and his steady habits were bringing in money sufficient
to purchase many little comforts which had been wanting during the
time he was indulging in drink. But this did not last long, for he
was one that was selected as a victim by the antis, and they soon
succeeded in making him succumb to their wiles. I will not enter
into a lengthy description of how their hellish purpose was
accomplished, suffice it to say that in his case, as well as in
Barton's, Ashton's, Dr. Dalton's, and many others, the conspiracy
was, from the diabolical standpoint of the antis, a success. All
over the county men were entrapped into drinking by the nefarious
means employed, entailing, in some instances, horrible murders and
deaths from accidents and exposure; and the misery which helpless
women and poor little innocent children suffered will never be
known on this side of the judgment. The victims fell easy preys to
their wily seducers, for when a man once contracts an appetite
for spirituous liquors it is, in nine cases out of ten, easy to
tempt him again to his fall; and none knew this better than those
who were engaged in this conspiracy, for they were old and
experienced hands at the business.
Mrs. Morris keenly felt her present position. She had belonged to
a very respectable family--being naturally of a proud, imperious
disposition--and to think that she and her children had been
reduced to poverty and rags through the drunken habits of her
husband, had almost broken her heart. But this evening, when he
came in with the marks on his face which led her to believe he had
been engaged in another bar-room brawl--for this was not the
first--the sense of their disgrace came upon her with such
overwhelming force as to bow her proud spirit to the earth.
During the day she had been visited by her sister's husband, whom
she had not seen for years, and she had experienced that
humiliation which those only can understand who have been in
circumstances of comfort, if not of opulence, and through the
misconduct of others have been brought to poverty and disgrace,
and, under these changed conditions, are visited by those they
have known in the days of their prosperity. The early opportunities
of her brother-in-law had not been at all superior to that of her
husband; but he was now rich, residing in a palatial home, and the
thought that he had found her such a victim of poverty and neglect,
added to her accumulated bitterness.
Her husband, as he sat eating his supper, ever and anon cast his
eyes to where she sat--her tears seemed to irritate him more than
words could possibly have done.
"I don't see, Nell," he said, "why you should sit there sulking
after that style. I guess I'll go back to where I came from, I do
hate a person to sulk."
"I am not sulking, Henry," she replied bitterly; "but I am
heart-broken with grief and shame. It was bad enough, surely, for me
to be compelled to suffer the disgrace of being a drunkard's wife,
and of being, with my children, dragged down from respectability to
poverty and rags, without having to endure the thought that my
husband--through his drunken, quarrelsome habits--had given people
the opportunity to bruit his name through the country as a bar-room
bully."
While she was speaking, her eldest son had entered the house. He
was almost a man grown, and was a fine-looking, athletic young
fellow. He, as well as his brothers and sisters, had suffered a
great deal from his father's cruelty, and Mrs. Morris had
frequently screened them from her husband's wild fury; for, though
he had often threatened, he had never so far forgotten his manhood
as to strike his wife. His son had lately decided not to endure
any more abuse, nor, if he could prevent it, would he allow his
father to maltreat his brothers and sisters. He acted upon this
resolve when, on another occasion, as we have previously stated,
he, with the assistance of his mother, had prevented him from
smashing up the furniture; though, in order to do this, they had
to overpower and bind him with ropes. Of course they could not
have succeeded had he not been very drunk. Morris at other times
in his wild frenzy acted as though he had just escaped from
bedlam. So foolish had he been, that there was scarcely a door or
a piece of furniture in the house which did not bear some mark of
these seasons of desperation.
The son immediately saw that his father was in his most
quarrelsome mood, for his eyes flashed fire; and no sooner had
Mrs. Morris stopped speaking, than he replied in his most rasping
tones:
"I want you to shut up, Nell, and if you don't I'll make you. I
suppose, now Jim has come, you think you can run the establishment;
and because you succeeded in tying me up the other day, you
imagine you can do it again. I was drunk then. You had better try
it on now if you think you will be able to complete the contract."
"Oh, Henry!" replied Mrs. Morris, "you know well enough that all
we did was to prevent you from destroying the furniture and
abusing the children, when you were so drunk as not to know what
you were doing. Why do you go away and disgrace us, and then come
back drunk to abuse us and make home wretched."
"It was thrown in my teeth to-night by Tom Flatt," he continued,
without noticing what his wife had said, "that you and that
precious son of mine, who is now sitting there grinning, tied me
up the other day and whipped me. I guess he won't tell me that
again in a hurry, as I nearly finished him; and I gave him to
understand if he did I should complete the job. Now, I suppose,
Jim, you want to try it on again; if you do, just come along--I'm
not drunk now!"
"Now, father, why can't you behave yourself? You know we only
prevented you from doing something you would be sorry for
afterwards."
When Jim thus spoke he did not intend to be impudent to his
father, but; on the contrary, to allay his temper; but his words
had just a contrary effect, for the latter immediately sprang to
his feet and said, while his eyes were blazing with passion:
"How dare you speak to me of behaving myself? Things have come to
a pretty pass when you dare thus to dictate to me. This comes from
your mother encouraging you to disobey me. Now you take your hat
and go, or I'll make you."
"I am not interfering with you, father; and if you were yourself
you would not want me to go. If you let the others and me alone I
will not say a word to you."
"Leave the house this minute," his father roared, "and don't dare
to bandy words with me."
"Father," said the son quietly, "I'll not do it. I am not going to
leave my mother and the rest here alone to be abused by you."
"You say you won't!" he hissed between his clenched teeth; "but
you will, or I'll break every bone in your body."
As he said this he ran around the table to the place where Jim was
standing; but the latter, nimbly avoiding him, dodged to the other
side of the table, while the rest of the children ran screaming
into another room. Mrs. Morris attempted to expostulate, but her
voice was lost in the general confusion; and Morris had become so
enraged that he was literally frothing at the mouth. He chased Jim
around the table for a few times, but his efforts proving
abortive, he, in his mad rage, seized a heavy glass tumbler and
threw it, with all his strength, at Jim's head.
"Look out, Jim!" screamed his mother, in a voice of horror, and
the boy dodging, the tumbler just grazed the side of his face; if
he had not done so, it would have taken him square in the mouth,
and would certainly have knocked out most of his front teeth, if
it had not broken his jaw.
But, though Jim fortunately escaped, Harry, the brother next to
him, was not so fortunate, for he happened to be standing
behind--almost in line with Jim--and the tumbler, which missed
the latter, struck him with terrific force just above the temple, and,
glancing therefrom, struck the window-sash behind, shattering two
of the panes to atoms from the force of the blow.
The boy, with a groan, sank to the floor, turning deathly pale as
he did so, and in a moment the blood began to trickle down his
face.
"Oh, Henry!" exclaimed Mrs. Morris, "you have killed Harry! Oh,
how could you throw a tumbler like that? Jim, bring some water
quickly."
The mother bent over her boy, who lay as one dead; and, as Jim
came with the water, she bathed his head with it and sprinkled
some upon his face. But their efforts to bring him back to
consciousness were in vain, for he lay breathing heavily, but
still insensible.
Morris, after seeing the effects of his reckless folly, stood for
a moment as one stunned. He was no longer drunk, but a sober and
deeply-penitent man. His boy lying there as dead, appealed to his
father's heart as no words could have done, and he now would
willingly have sacrificed his life if he could have recalled the
events of the last half hour. He came up to the bed, where Jim had
carried Harry, with face almost as white as that of his wounded
boy, and whispered: "I have not murdered him have I, Nellie dear?
Oh! my God, I hope I have not murdered him!"
And then, in his anguish, doing what he had not done for years,
that is, sinking on his knees in prayer, he cried, as his bosom
heaved with agony:
"O God! spare my child, and I will never drink again!"
Then, rising, he looked at Harry for a moment, and as there was no
indication of consciousness, he said to his eldest son:
"Jim! run for Dr. Dean. I am sure, my boy, you will not linger a
moment longer than there is need of your doing. Life and death may
depend upon your haste."
Jim ran, and in a few moments returned with the doctor, who
examined the boy, and said to the group who were so anxiously
awaiting his decision:
"His skull is not fractured. I think it must have been a glancing
blow, and I will soon bring him to consciousness. It was a
providential escape, however; for if the tumbler had come direct,
and struck him a little lower down, it would have killed him."
"Thank God!" exclaimed Morris.
"You may well thank Him," said the doctor, "for it certainly was a
narrow escape for both of you; that is, you just escaped from
being a murderer, and the poor boy here from being murdered. I
have often warned you, Morris, against drinking, and told you it
would end in some terrible catastrophe. I should think you would
now reform."
"God helping, I will."
Dr. Dean was a very strong temperance man, and had been an active
supporter of the Dunkin Act. He had, in fact, used all the power
of his intellect to make the legalized selling of liquor a thing
of the past; he was also an accomplished and eloquent platform
speaker. His friends, after earnest solicitation, had obtained his
consent to come forward as a candidate for Parliamentary honors.
So he was at the present the recognized opponent of Capt.
McWriggler, whose superior he was both morally and intellectually.
After a while he succeeded in resuscitating Harry. The latter
opened his eyes, and as he did so they fell upon the doctor.
"Where am I, mother?" he enquired. "What is the matter? What is
the doctor doing here?"
"Never mind now, Harry dear," she said; "you have been hurt, and
if you are very quiet we will tell you after a while."
Having shut his eyes as if he were satisfied, or as if he were too
weak to pursue the enquiry any further, the doctor felt his pulse
again, and remarked: "He will be all right in a short time." He
then gave them instructions as to how they should proceed in case
of contingencies, and turning to Morris said: "I believe you have
signed the pledge more than once, and a few moments ago you
remarked you would never drink again. Did you mean it?"
"I did, and, God helping me, liquor shall never enter my lips
again."
"Here is a pledge," and the doctor produced one. "Will you sign
it? I always carry one with me to use on such occasions as this."
"I will, sir. And I am thankful to you for your interest in me.
Pray for me, that I may receive strength to keep it."
Morris signed the pledge with trembling hand, and no sooner had he
done so than his wife, throwing her arms around his neck, kissed
him. "Thank God," she said, and then, casting her eyes heavenward,
she prayed: "O, my Father, aid him to keep his promise."
"You kept sober," said the doctor, "for several weeks after the
Act came in force, and then you were, with several others, tempted
to drink."
"Yes," said Morris, "I was coaxed to drink by the sheriff, though
I was weak and foolish to listen to him."
"It was a vile conspiracy," continued the doctor, indignantly,
"and I am certain that some of those in the county who are now
infamously degrading the most important offices in the gift of the
Crown are among the conspirators. I am personally acquainted with
numbers who were seduced to their ruin by this devilish
conspiracy, entailing an amount of misery that it is impossible to
estimate."
Before the doctor had finished speaking, Jim, who had been sent to
have a prescription filled out, came running in with a look of
horror on his face. "They are looking for you, doctor," he said,
"to go down to Flatt's. They say Tom has murdered his wife."
"Another victim," said the doctor sententiously, and then he
hurried away.