"I WANT a quarter of a dollar, Jane."
This was addressed by a miserable creature, bloated and disfiguredby intemperance, to a woman, whose thin, pale face, and heart-brokenlook, told but too plainly that she was the drunkard's wife.
"Not a quarter of a dollar, John? Surely you will not waste aquarter of a dollar of my hard earnings, when you know that I canscarcely get food and decent clothes for the children?"
As the wife said this, she looked up into her husband's face with asad appealing expression.
"I must have a quarter, Jane," said the man firmly.
"O, John! remember our little ones. The cold-weather will soon behere, and I have not yet been able to get them shoes. If you willnot earn any thing yourself, do not waste the little my hard laborcan procure. Will not a sixpence do? Surely that is enough for youto spend for--"
"Nothing will do but a quarter, Jane, and that I must have, if Isteal it!" was the prompt and somewhat earnest reply.
Mrs. Jarvis laid aside her work mechanically and, rising, went to adrawer, and from a cup containing a single dollar in small pieces,her little all, took out a quarter of a dollar, and turning to herhusband, said, as she handed it to him--
"Remember, that you are taking the bread out of your children'smouths!"
"Not so bad as that, I hope, Jane," said the drunkard, as heclutched the money eagerly; something like a feeble smile flittingacross his disfigured and distorted countenance.
"Yes, and worse!" was the response, made in a sadder tone than thatin which the wife had at first spoken.
"How worse, Jane?"
"John!" and the wife spoke with a sudden energy, while hercountenance lighted up with a strange gleam. "John, I cannot bearthis much longer! I feel myself sinking every day. And you--you whopledged yourself--"
Here the voice of the poor woman gave way, and covering her facewith her hands, she bent her head upon her bosom, and sobbed andwept hysterically.
The drunkard looked at her for a moment, and then turning hurriedly,passed from the room. For some moments after the door had closedupon her husband, did Mrs. Jarvis stand, sobbing and weeping. Thenslowly returning to her chair near the window, she resumed her,work, with an expression of countenance that was sad and hopeless.
In the mean time, the poor wretch who had thus reduced his family toa state of painful destitution, after turning away from his door,walked slowly along the street with his head bowed down, as ifengaged in, to him, altogether a new employment, that ofself-communion. All at once a hand was laid familiarly upon hisshoulders, and a well-known voice said--
"Come, John, let's have a drink."
"Jarvis looked up with a bewildered air, and the first thing thatcaught his eye, after it glanced away from the face of one of hisdrinking cronies, was a sign with bright gold letters, bearing thewords, "EAGLE COFFEE-HOUSE." That sign was as familiar to him as theface of one of his children. At the same moment that his eyes restedupon this, creating an involuntary impulse to move towards thetavern-door, his old crony caught hold of his coat-collar and gavehim a pull in the same direction. But much to the surprise of thelatter, Jarvis resisted this attempt to give his steps a directionthat would lead him into his old, accustomed haunt.
"Won't you drink this morning, Jarvis?" asked the other, with a lookof surprise.
There was evidently a powerful struggle going on in the mind of thedrunkard. This lasted only for a moment or two, when he said,loudly, and emphatically--
"No!"
And instantly broke from his old boon companion, and hurried on hisway.
A loud laugh followed him, but he heeded it not. Ten minutes' walkbrought him to the store of a respectable tradesman.
"Is Mr. R--in?" he asked, as he entered.
"Back at the desk," was the answer of a clerk.
And Jarvis walked back with a resolute air.
"Mr. R--, I want to sign the pledge!"
"You, Jarvis?" Mr. R--said, in tones of gratified surprise.
"Yes, me, Mr. R--. It's almost a hopeless case; but here goes todo my best."
"Are you fully sensible of what you are about doing, Jarvis?"
"I think I am, Mr. R--. I've drunk nothing since yesterdaymorning, and with the help of Him above, I am determined never todrink another drop as long as I live! So read me the pledge and letme sign it."
Mr. R--turned at once to the constitution of the WashingtonTemperance Society, and read the pledge thereunto annexed:
"'We, the undersigned, do pledge ourselves to each other, asgentlemen, that we will not, hereafter, drink any spiritous liquors,wine, malt, or cider, unless in sickness, and under the prescriptionof a physician.'"
Jarvis took the pen in his hand, that trembled so he. could scarcelymake a straight mark on paper, and enrolled his name among thehundreds of those, who, like him, had resolved to be men once more.This done, he laid down the quarter of a dollar which he hadobtained from his wife, the admission fee required of all who joinedthe society. As he turned from the tradesman's store, his step wasfirmer and his head more erect, than, in a sober state, he hadcarried it for many a day.
From thence he proceeded to a hatter's-shop.
"Well, Jarvis," was uttered in rather a cool, repulsive tone, as heentered.
"Are you not in want of a journeyman, Mr. Warren?"
"I don't want you, Jarvis."
"If you will give me work, I'll never get drunk again, Mr. Warren."
"You've said that too many times, Jarvis. The last time you went offwhen I was hurried with work, and caused me to disappoint acustomer, I determined never to have any thing more to do with you."
"But I'll never disappoint you again," urged the poor man earnestly.
"It's no use for you to talk to me, Jarvis. You and I are done witheach other. I have made up my mind never again to have a man in myshop who drinks rum."
"But I've joined the temperance society, Mr. Warren."
"I don't care if you have: in two weeks you'll be lying in thegutter."
"I'll never drink liquor again if I die!" said Jarvis, solemnly.
"Look here, you drunken vagabond!" returned the master hatter inangry tones, coming from behind the counter, and standing in frontof the individual he was addressing--"if you are not out of thisshop in two minutes by the watch, I'll kick you into the street! Sothere now--take your choice to go out, or be kicked out."
Jarvis turned sadly away without a reply, and passed out of the doorthrough which he had entered with a heart full of hope, now pained,and almost ready to recede from his earnest resolution and pledge tobecome a sober man and a better husband and father. He felt utterlydiscouraged. As he walked slowly along the street, the fumes of acoffee-house which he was passing, unconsciously, struck upon hissense, and immediately came an almost overpowering desire for hisaccustomed potation. He paused--
"Now that I try to reform, they turn against me," he sighedbitterly. "It is no use; I am gone past hope!"
One step was taken towards the tavern-door, when it seemed as if astrong hand held him back.
"No--no!" he murmured, "I have taken the pledge, and I will stand byit, if I die!" Then moving resolutely onward, he soon found himselfnear the door of another hatter's-shop. Hope again kindled up in hisbosom, and he entered.
"Don't you want a hand, Mr. Mason?" he asked, in a hesitating tone.
"Not a drunken one, Jarvis," was the repulsive answer.
"But I've reformed, Mr. Mason."
"So I should think from your looks."
"But, indeed, Mr. Mason I have quit drinking, and taken the pledge."
"To break it in three days. Perhaps three hours."
"Won't you give me work, Mr. Mason, if I promise to be sober?"
"No! For I would not give a copper for your promises."
Poor Jarvis, turned away. When he had placed his hand to the pledge,he dreamed not of these repulses and difficulties. He was a goodworkman, and he thought that any one of his old employers would beglad to get him back again, so soon as they learned of his havingsigned the total-abstinence pledge. But he had so often promisedamendment, and so often broken his promise and disappointed them,that they had lost all confidence in him; at least, the two to whomhe had, thus far, made application.
After leaving the shop of Mr. Mason, Jarvis seemed altogetherirresolute. He would walk on a few steps, and then pause to communewith his troubled and bewildered thoughts.
"I will try Lankford," said he, at length, half-aloud; "he will giveme work, surely."
A brisk walk of some ten minutes brought him to the door of a smallhatter's-shop in a retired street. Behind the counter of this shopstood an old man, busily employed in ironing a hat. There wassomething benevolent in his countenance and manner. As Jarvisentered, he looked up, and a shade passed quickly over his face.
"Good morning, Mr. Lankford," said Jarvis, bowing, with somethinglike timidity and shame in his manner.
"Are you not afraid to come here, John?" replied the old man,sternly.
"I am ashamed to come, but not afraid. You will not harm me, Iknow."
"Don't trust to that, John. Did you not steal, ay, that is theword--did you not steal from me the last time I employed you?" Theold man was stern and energetic in his manner.
"I was so wicked as to take a couple of skins, Mr. Lankford, but Idid very wrong, and am willing to repay you for them, if you willgive me work. I was in liquor when I did it, and, when in liquor, Ihave no distinct consciousness of the evil of any action."
"Give you work, indeed! O, no! John; I cannot give you anotherchance to rob me."
"But I will not get drunk any more. And you know, Mr. Lankford, thatwhile I was a sober man, and worked for you, I never wronged you outof a sixpence worth."
"Won't get drunk any more! Ah! John, I have lived too long in. theworld, and have seen too much, to heed such promises."
"But I am in earnest, Mr. Lankford. I signed the pledge thismorning."
"You!" in a tone of surprise.
"Yes, I signed it."
"Ah, John," after a pause, and shaking his head. incredulously, "Icannot credit your word, and I am sorry for it."
"If I have signed the pledge, and if I am really determined to be areformed man, will you give me work, Mr. Lankford!"
The old man thought for a few moments, and then said,half-sorrowfully--
"I am afraid of you, John. You are such an old offender on the scoreof drunkenness, that I have no confidence in your power to keep thepledge."
"Then what shall I do!" the poor wretch exclaimed, in tones thatmade the heart of the old man thrill--for nature and pathos were inthem. "Now that I am trying in earnest to do better, no one willgive me a word of encouragement, nor a helping hand. Heaven helpme!--for I am forsaken of man."
Mr. Lankford stood thoughtful and irresolute for some moments. Atlength, he said--
"John, if you will bring me a certificate from Mr. R--, that youhave signed the total-abstinence pledge, I will give you anothertrial. But if you disappoint me again, you and I are done for ever."
The countenance of Jarvis brightened up instantly. He turned quicklyaway, without reply, and hurried off to the store of Mr. R--, thesecretary of the society he had joined. The certificate was, ofcourse, obtained.
"And you have joined, sure enough, John," Mr. Lankford said, in achanged tone, as he glanced over the certificate.
"Indeed I have, Mr. Lankford."
"And you seem in earnest."
"If I was ever in earnest about any thing in my life, I am inearnest now."
"Keep to your pledge, then, John, and all will be well. While youwere a sober man, I preferred you to any journeyman in my shop. Keepsober, and you shall never want a day's work while I am inbusiness."
The poor man was now shown his place in the shop, and once again heresumed his work, though under a far different impulse than had, foryears, nerved him to action.
Two hours brought his regular dinner-time, when Jarvis, who began tofeel the want of food, returned home, with new and strange feelingsabout his heart. One impulse was to tell his wife what he had done,and what he was doing. But then he remembered how often he hadmocked her new springing hopes--how often he had promised amendment,and once even joined a temperance society, only to relapse into alower and more degraded condition.
"No, no," he said to himself, after debating the question in hismind, as he walked towards home; "I will not tell her now. I willfirst present some fruit of my repentance. I will give such anassurance as will create confidence and hope."
Mrs. Jarvis did not raise her eyes to the face of her husband, as heentered. The sight of that once loved countenance, distorted anddisfigured, ever made her heart sick when she looked upon it. Jarvisseated himself quietly in a chair, and held out his hands for hisyoungest child, not over two years old, who had no consciousness ofhis father's degradation. In a moment the happy little creature wason his knee. But the other children showed no inclination toapproach.
The frugal meal passed in silence and restraint. Mrs. Jarvis felttroubled and oppressed--for the prospect before her seemed to growmore and more gloomy. All the morning she had suffered from a steadypain in her breast, and from a lassitude that she could notovercome. Her pale, thin, care-worn face, told a sad tale ofsuffering, privation, confinement, and want of exercise. What was tobecome of her children she knew not. Under such feelings ofhopelessness, to have one sitting by her side, who could take muchof her burdens from her, were he but to will it--who could call backthe light to her heart, if only true to his promise, made in earlierand happier years--soured in some degree her feelings, and obscuredher perceptions. She did not note that some change had passed uponhim; a change that if marked, would have caused her heart to leap inher bosom.
As soon as Jarvis had risen from the table, he took his hat, andkissing his youngest child, the only one there who seemed to regardhim, passed quickly from the house. As the door closed after him,his wife heaved a long sigh, and then rising, mechanically,proceeded to clear up the table. Of how many crushed affections anddisappointed hopes, did that one deep, tremulous sigh, speak!
Jarvis returned to his work, and applied himself steadily during thewhole afternoon. Whenever a desire for liquor returned upon him, hequenched it in a copious draught of water, and thus kept himself asfree from temptation as possible. At night he returned, when thesame troubled and uneasy silence pervaded the little family at thesupper-table. The meal was scanty, for Mrs. Jarvis's incessant laborcould procure but a poor supply of food. After the children had beenput to bed, Mrs. Jarvis sat down, as usual, to spend the evening,tired as she was, and much as her breast pained her, in sewing. Adeep sigh heaved involuntarily her bosom as she did so. It caughtthe ear of her husband, and smote upon his heart. He knew that herhealth was feeble, and that constant labor fatigued her excessively.
"I wouldn't sew to-night, Jane," he said. "You look tired. Rest forone evening."
Mrs Jarvis neither looked up nor replied. There was something in thetone of her husband's voice that stirred her feelings;--somethingthat softened her heart towards him. But she dared not trust herselfto speak, nor to let her eye meet his. She did not wish to utter aharsh nor repulsive word, nor was she willing to speak kindly tohim, for she did not feel kindly,--and kind words and affectedcheerfulness, she had already found but encouraged him in his evilways. And so she continued to ply her needle, without appearing toregard his presence. Her husband did not make another effort toinduce her to suspend her labors; for, under existing circumstances,he was particularly desirous of not provoking her to use towards himthe language of rebuke and censure. After sitting silent, for,perhaps half an hour, he rose from his chair, and walked three orfour times backwards and forwards across the room, preparatory togoing out to seek a coffee-house, and there spend his evening, ashis wife supposed. But much to her surprise, he retired to theirchamber, in the adjoining room. While still under the expectation ofseeing him return, his loud breathing caught her quick ear. He wasasleep!
Catching up the light, as she arose suddenly to her feet, shepassed, with a hasty step, into the chamber. He had undressedhimself, was in bed, and sound asleep. She held the candle close tohis face; it was calmer than usual, and somewhat paler. As she bentover him, his breath came full in her face. It was not loaded withthe disgusting fumes that had so often sickened her. Her heart beatquicker--the moisture dimmed her eye--her whole frame trembled. Thenlooking upwards, she uttered a single prayer for her husband, and,gliding quietly from the room, sat down by her little table andagain bent over her work. Now she remembered that he had said, withsomething unusual in his tones--"I would not sew to-night, Jane; youlook tired; rest for one evening"--and her heart was agitated with anew hope; but that hope, like the dove from the ark, found nothingupon which to rest, and trembled back again into a feeling ofdespondency.
On the next morning, the unsteady hand of Jarvis, as he lifted hissaucer to his lips at the breakfast-table, made his wife's heartsink again in her bosom. She had felt a hope, almost unconsciously.She remembered that at supper-time his hand was firm--now it wasunnerved. This was conclusive to her mind, that, notwithstanding hisappearance, he had been drinking. But few words passed during themeal, for neither felt much inclined to converse.
After breakfast, Jarvis returned to the shop and worked steadilyuntil dinner-time, and then again until evening. As on the nightbefore, he did not go out, but retired early to bed. And this wascontinued all the week. But the whole was a mystery to his poorwife, who dared not even to hope for any real change for the better.On Saturday, towards night, he laid by his work, put on his coat andhat, and went into the front shop.
"So you have really worked a week, a sober man, John?" Mr. Lankfordsaid.
"Indeed, I have. Since last Sunday morning, no kind of intoxicatingliquor has passed my lips."
"How much have you earned this week, John?"
"Here is the foreman's account of my work, sir. It comes to twelvedollars."
"Still a fast workman. You will yet recover yourself, and yourfamily will again be happy, if you persevere."
"O, sir, they shall be happy! I will persevere!"
Another pause ensued, and then Jarvis said, while the color mountedto his cheek--
"If you are willing, Mr. Lankford, I should like you to deduct onlyone-half of what I owe you for those furs I took from you, from thisweek's wages. My family are in want of a good many things; and I amparticularly desirous of buying a barrel of flour to-night."
"Say nothing of that, John. Let it be forgotten with your pastmisdeeds. Here are your wages--twelve dollars--and if it gives youas much pleasure to receive, as it does me to pay them, then youfeel no ordinary degree of satisfaction."
Mr. Jarvis received the large sum for him to possess, and hurriedaway to a grocery. Here he bought, for six dollars, a barrel offlour, and expended two dollars more of his wages in sugar, coffee,tea, molasses, &c. Near to the store was the market-house. Thence herepaired, and bought meat and various kinds of vegetables, withbutter, &c. These he carried to the store, and gave directions tohave all sent home to him. He had now two dollars left out of thetwelve he had earned since Monday morning, and with these in hispocket, he returned home. As he drew near the house, his heartfluttered in anticipation of the delightful change that would passupon all beneath its humble roof. He had never in his life,experienced feelings of such real joy.
A few moments brought him to the door, and he went in with the quickstep that had marked his entrance for several days. It was not quitedark, and his wife sat sewing by the window. She was finishing apair of pantaloons that had to go home that very evening, and withthe money she was to get for them she expected to buy the Sundaydinner. There was barely enough food in the house for supper; andunless she received her pay for this piece of work, she had no meansof getting the required sustenance for herself and children--orrather, for her husband, herself and children. The individual forwhom it was intended was not a prompt pay-master, and usuallygrumbled whenever Mrs. Jarvis asked him for money. To add to thecircumstances of concern and trouble of mind, she felt almost readyto give up, from the excessive pain in her breast, and the weaknessof her whole frame. As her husband came in, she turned upon him ananxious and troubled countenance; and then bent down over her workand plied her needle hurriedly. As the twilight fell dimly around,she drew nearer and nearer to the window, and at last stood up, andleaned close up to the panes of glass, so that her hand almosttouched them, in order to catch the few feeble rays of light thatwere still visible. But she could not finish the garment upon whichshe wrought, by the light of day. A candle was now lit, and she tookher place by the table, not so much as glancing towards her husband,who had seated himself in a chair, with his youngest child on hisknee. Half an hour passed in silence, and then Mrs. Jarvis rose up,having taken the last stitch in the garment she was making, andpassed into the adjoining chamber. In a few minutes she came out,with her bonnet and shawl on, and the pair of pantaloons that shehad just finished on her arm.
"Where are you going, Jane?" her husband asked, in a tone ofsurprise, that seemed mingled with disappointment.
"I am going to carry home my work."
"But I wouldn't go now, Jane. Wait until after supper."
"No, John. I cannot wait until after supper. The work will bewanted. It should have been home two hours ago."
And she glided from the room.
A walk of a few minutes brought her to the door of a tailor's-shop,around the front of which hung sundry garments exposed for sale.This shop she entered, and presented the pair of pantaloons to a manwho stood behind the counter. His face relaxed not a muscle as hetook them and made a careful examination of the work.
"They'll do," he at length said, tossing them aside, and resuminghis employment of cutting out a garment.
Poor Mrs. Jarvis paused, dreading to utter her request. Butnecessity conquered the painful reluctance, and she said--
"Can you pay me for this pair to-night, Mr. Willets?"
"No. I've got more money to pay on Monday than I know where to get,and cannot let a cent go out."
"But, Mr. Willets, I--"
"I don't want to hear any of your reasons, Mrs. Jarvis. You can'thave the money to-night."
Mrs. Jarvis moved slowly away, and had nearly reached the door, whena thought of her children caused her to pause.
"I cannot go, Mr. Willets, without the money," she said, suddenlyturning, and speaking in an excited tone.
"You will go, I'm thinking, madam," was the cool reply.
"O, sir," changing her tone, "pay me what you owe me; I want it verymuch."
"O, yes. So you all say. But I am used to such make-believes. Youget no money out of me to-night, madam. That's a settled point. I'mangry now--so you had better go home at once; if you don't, I'llnever give you a stitch of work, so help--"
Mrs. Jarvis did not pause to hear the concluding words of thesentence.
"What shall I do?" was the almost despairing question that sheasked of herself, as she hurried towards her home. On entering thehouse she made no remark, for there was no one to whom she couldtell her troubles and disappointment, with even the most feeble hopeof a word of comfort.
"Does Mr. Jarvis live here?" asked a rough voice at the door.
"Yes, sir," was the reply.
"Well, here is a barrel of flour and some groceries for him."
"There must be some mistake, sir."
"Is not this Mr. Jarvis's?"
"Yes."
"And number 40?"
"Yes."
"Then this is the place, for that was the direction given me."
"Yes, this is the place--bring them in," spoke up Jarvis, in ananimated tone.
The drayman, of course, obeyed. First he rolled in the barrel offlour; then came a number of packages, evidently containinggroceries; and, finally, one or two pieces of meat, and sundry lotsof vegetables.
"How much is to pay?" asked Jarvis.
"Twenty-five cents, sir," responded the drayman, bowing.
The twenty-five cent piece was taken from his pocket with quite anair, and handed over. Then the drayman went out and that littlefamily were alone again. During the passage of the scene justdescribed, the wife stood looking on with a stupid and bewilderedair. When the drayman had departed, she turned to her husband, andsaid--
"'John, where did these things come from?"
"I bought them, Jane."
"You bought them?"
"Yes, I bought them."
"And pray, John, what did you buy them with?"
"With the quarter of a dollar you gave me on Monday."
"John!"
"It is true, Jane. With that quarter I went and joined theWashington Total-Abstinence Society, and then went to work at Mr.Lankford's. Here is the result of one week's work, besides thissilver," handing her all that remained, after making the purchases.
"O, John, John," the wife exclaimed, bursting into tears, "do notagain mock my hopes. I cannot bear much more."
"In the strength of Him, Jane, who has promised to help us when wecall upon Him, 'I will not disappoint the hopes I now revive,'" saidJarvis, slowly and solemnly.
The almost heart-broken wife and mother leaned her head upon theshoulder of her husband, and clung to his side with a newly-revivedconfidence, that she felt would not be disappointed, while the tearspoured from her eyes like rain. But her true feelings we cannotattempt to describe--nor dare we venture to sketch further the scenewe have introduced. The reader's imagination can do it more justice,and to him we leave that pleasing task, with only the remark, thatMrs. Jarvis's newly-awakened joys and hopes have not again beendisappointed.
THE END.
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