Belle Gordon's indignation was thoroughly aroused by hearing Mary
Gough's story about the loss of her hair, and she made up her mind that
when she saw Joe Gough she would give him a very plain talking.
"I would like to see your husband; I would just like to tell him what I
think about his conduct."
"Oh," said Mary, her pale cheek growing whiter with apprehension;
"That's his footsteps now, Miss Belle don't say anything to him, Joe's
as good and kind a man as I ever saw when he is sober, but sometimes he
is really ugly when he has been drinking."
Just then the door was opened, and Joe Gough entered, or rather all that
remained of the once witty, talented and handsome Josiah Gough. His face
was pale and haggard, and growing premature by age, his wealth of raven
hair was unkempt and hung in tangled locks over his forehead, his hand
was unsteady and trembling from extreme nervousness, but he was sober
enough to comprehend the situation, and to feel a deep sense of remorse
and shame, when he gazed upon the weary head from whence he had bereft
its magnificent covering.
"Here Mary," said he approaching the bed, "I've brought you a present; I
only had four cents, and I thought this would please you, I know you
women are so fond of jew-gaws," and he handed [her] a pair of sleeve
buttons.
"Thank you," said she, as a faint smile illuminated her pallid cheek.
"This," she said turning to Miss Gordon, "is my husband, Josiah Gough."
"Good morning, Mr. Gough," said Belle bowing politely and extending her
hand. Joe returned the salutation very courteously and very quietly,
sitting down by the bedside, made some remarks about the dampness of the
weather. Mary lay very quiet, looking pitifully upon the mour[n]ful
wretch at her side, who seemed to regard her and her friend with intense
interest. It seemed from his countenance that remorse and shame were
rousing up his better nature. Once he rose as if to go--stood
irresolutely for a moment, and then sitting down by the bedside, clasped
her thin pale hand in his with a caressing motion, and said, "Mary
you've had a hard time, but I hope there are better days in store for
us, don't get out of heart," and there was a moisture in his eyes in
which for a moment beamed a tender, loving light. Belle immediately felt
her indignation changing to pity. Surely she thought within herself,
this man is worth saving--There is still love and tenderness within him,
notwithstanding all his self-ruin, he reminds me of an expression I have
picked up somewhere about "Old Oak," holding the young fibres at its
heart, I will appeal to that better nature, I will use it as a lever to
lift him from the depths into which he has fallen. While she was
thinking of the best way to approach him, and how to reach that heart
into whose hidden depths she had so unexpectedly glanced, he arose and
bending over his wife imprinted upon her lips a kiss in which remorse
and shame seemed struggling for expression, and left the room.
"Mother Graham," said Belle, "a happy thought has just struck me,
Couldn't we induce Mr. Gough to attend the meeting of the Reform Club?
Mr. R.N. speaks tonight and he has been meeting with glorious success as
a Temperance Reformer, hundreds of men, many of them confirmed
drunkards, have joined, and he is doing a remarkable work, he does not
wait for the drunkards to come to him, he goes to them, and wins them by
his personal sympathy, and it is wonderful the good he has done, I do
wish he would go."
"I wish so too," said Martha Graham.
"If he should not return while I am here will you invite him to attend?
Perhaps Mrs. Gough can spare you an hour or two this evening to
accompany him."
"That I would gladly do, I think it would do me more good than all the
medicines you could give me, to see my poor husband himself once more.
Before he took to drinking, I was so happy, but it seems as if since
then I have suffered sorrow by the spoonful. Oh the misery that this
drink causes. I do hope these reform clubs will be the means of shutting
up every saloon in the place, for just as long as one of them is open he
is in danger."
"Yes," said Belle, "what we need is not simply to stop the men from
drinking, but to keep the temptation out of their way."
"Joe," said Mary, "belongs to a good family, he has a first-rate
education, is a fine penman, and a good bookkeeper, but this dreadful
drink has thrown him out of some of the best situations in the town
where we were living."
"Oh what a pity, I heard Mr. Clifford say that his business was
increasing so that he wanted a good clerk and salesman to help him, that
he was overworked and crippled for want of sufficient help. Maybe if
your husband would sign the pledge, Mr. Clifford would give him a trial,
but it is growing late and I must go. I would liked to have seen your
husband before I left, and have given him a personal invitation, but you
and Mother Graham can invite him for me, so good bye, keep up a good
heart, you know where to cast your burden."
Just as Miss Gordon reached the landing, she saw Joe Gough standing at
the outer door and laying her hand gently upon his shoulder, exclaimed,
"Oh Mr. Gough, I am so glad to see you again, I wanted to invite you to
attend a temperance meeting tonight at Amory Hall. Will you go?"
"Well I don't like to promise," he replied, looking down upon his seedy
coat and dilapidated shoes.
"Never mind your wardrobe," said Miss Gordon divining his thoughts.
"The soul is more than raiment, 'the world has room for another man and
I want you to fill the place.'"
"Well," said he, "I'll come."
"Very well, I expect to be there and will look for you. Come early and
bring Mother Graham."
"Mrs. Gough can spare her an hour or two this evening, I think your wife
is suffering more from exhaustion and debility than anything else."
"Yes poor Mary has had a hard time, but it shan't be always so. As soon
as I get work I mean to take her out of this," said he looking
disdainfully at the wretched tenement house, with its broken shutters
and look of general decay.
* * * * *
"Why Mother Graham is [the] meeting over? You must have had a fine time,
you just look delighted. Did Joe go in with you, and where is he now?"
"Yes, he went with me, listened to the speeches, and joined the club, I
saw him do it with my own eyes, Oh, we had a glorious time!"
"Oh I am so glad," said Mary, her eyes filling with sudden tears. "I do
hope he will keep his pledge!"
"I hope so too, and I hope he will get something to do. Mr. Clifford was
there when he signed, and Miss Belle was saying today that he wanted a
clerk that would be a first r[at]e place for Joe, if he will only keep
his pledge. Mr. Clifford is an active temperance man, and I believe
would help to keep Joe straight."
"I hope he'll get the place, but Mother Graham, tell me all about the
meeting, you don't know how happy I am."
"Don't I deary? Have I been through it all, but it seems as if I had
passed through suffering into peace, but never mind Mother Graham's past
troubles, let me tell you about the meeting."
"At these meetings quite a number of people speak, just as we went in
one of the speakers was telling his experience, and what a terrible
struggle he had to overcome the power of appetite. Now when he felt the
fearful craving coming over him he would walk the carpet till he had
actually worn it threadbare; but that he had been converted and found
grace to help him in time of need, and how he had gone out and tried to
reform others and had seen the work prosper in his hand. I watched Joe's
face, it seemed lit up with earnestness and hope, as if that man had
brought him a message of deliverance; then after the meeting came the
signing of the pledge and joining the reform club, and it would have
done you good to see the men that joined."
"Do you remember Thomas Allison?"
"Yes, poor fellow, and I think if any man ever inherited drunkenness, he
did, for his father and his mother were drunkards before him."
"Well, he joined and they have made him president of the club."
"Well did I ever! But tell me all about Joe."
"When the speaking was over, Joe sat still and thoughtful as if making
up his mind, when Miss Gordon came to him and asked him to join, he
stopped a minute to button his coat and went right straight up and had
his name put down, but oh how the people did clap and shout. Well as Joe
was one of the last to sign, the red ribbons they use for badges was all
gone and Joe looked so sorry, he said he wanted to take a piece of
ribbon home to let his wife know that he belonged to the Reform Club,
Miss Gordon heard him, and she had a piece of black lace and red ribbon
twisted together around her throat and she separated the lace from the
ribbon and tied it in his button-hole, so his Mary would see it. Oh Miss
Belle did look so sweet and Mr. Clifford never took his eyes off her. I
think he admires her very much."
"I don't see how he can help it, she is one of the dearest--sweetest,
ladies I ever saw, she never seemed to say by her actions, 'I am doing
so much for you poor people' and you can't be too thankful."
"Not she, and between you and I, and the gate-post, I think that will be
a match."
"I think it would make a splendid one, but hush, I hear some persons
coming."
The door opened and Paul Clifford, Joe Gough, and Belle Gordon entered.
"Here Mrs. Gough," said Paul Clifford, "as we children used to say.
Here's your husband safe and sound, and I will add, a member of our
reformed club and we have come to congratulate you upon the event."
"My dear friends, I am very thankful to you for your great kindness, I
don't think I shall ever be able to repay you."
"Don't be uneasy darling," said Belle, "we are getting our pay as we go
along, we don't think the cause of humanity owes us anything." "Yes,"
said Joe seating himself by the bed side with an air of intense
gratification. "Here is my badge, I did not want to leave the meeting
without having this to show you."
"This evening," said Mrs. Gough smiling through her tears, "reminds me
of a little temperance song I learned when a child, I think it commenced
with these words:
"And are you sure the news is true?
Are you sure my John has joined?
I can't believe the happy news,
And leave my fears behind,
If John has joined and drinks no more,
The happiest wife am I
That ever swept a cabin floor,
Or sung a lullaby.
"That's just the way I feel to-night, I haven't been so happy before for
years."
"And I hope," said Mr. Clifford, "that you will have many happy days
and nights in the future."
"And I hope so too," said Joe, shaking hands with Paul and Belle as they
rose to go.
Mr. Clifford accompanied Belle to her door, and as they parted she said,
"This is a glorious work in which it is our privilege to clasp hands."
"It is and I hope," but as the words rose to his lips, he looked into
the face of Belle, and it was so radiant with intelligent tenderness and
joy, that she seemed to him almost like a glorified saint, a being too
precious high and good for common household uses, and so the remainder
of the sentence died upon his lips and he held his peace.