OLD JOE, THE DRUNKARD PART SIX

As I said, it was almost five years before I saw Joe Brandon again. He was then a young man of very fascinating manners, handsome, and attractive. But he was already becoming so idle and vicious that no one dared trust him, and although his face was handsome, his follies and intemperate habits had stamped themselves upon it, until they had given him a certain reckless air that was far from agreeable,—still—”

“O grandma!” interrupted Bertha, with an expression of incredulity, “it can’t be possible that old Joe ever had a grain of good looks. Why! his face is actually hideous and disgusting, and so bloated that I could scarcely see his eyes; and, grandma, it was horrible, horrible! his long, yellow beard was covered with vomit, and—O grandma! how could he ever have been attractive?” and Bertha shuddered.

“I tell you, my dear,” explained grandma, “there is nothing on earth that is so brutalizing and degrading in its effect upon the human system as strong drink. It is the devil’s own weapon, and with it, he succeeds too often in bringing his poor, duped victims far below the level of the brutes.

“About this time Joe became acquainted with a beautiful young girl, the daughter of a merchant who lived in the city, where Joe now had his home.

“Meanwhile, good Aunt Maggie had died, leaving Joe the little remnant of property which she had. This was soon spent, of course, in folly and dissipation by the poor prodigal.”

“But tell me about the pretty young girl,” persuaded Bertha.

“Her name was Martha Grey,” replied grandma, “and all too soon the reckless and dissipated young man succeeded in winning her heart, for, as I told you, he was handsome and kind-hearted; although he possessed a high opinion of his own good looks and capabilities.

“He had attended school a good deal, and was no mean student, and after a time he began the study of law. He might have succeeded well in this, his chosen profession, had he been diligent and persevering; but his old enemy, appetite, was constantly upon his track, and it was not long before he lost his practice, because nobody wanted to employ a drunken lawyer. After he had been seen reeling down the street a few times, he soon found himself without clients.”

“But, grandma,” protested Bertha, “I don’t see how he could have kept all this hidden from poor Martha Grey.”

“Ah, he could not,—though he tried hard enough to do so, for Mr. Grey, Martha’s father, was very much opposed to strong drink. But one day Joe so far forgot himself as to enter Mr. Grey’s store quite intoxicated. Of course, the merchant was very much displeased and disgusted, and forbade the young man ever to visit his daughter again. Still, I am sorry to say, Martha insisted upon meeting Joe, and still accepted his company.”

“He entered Mr. Grey’s store quite intoxicated.”

“Why didn’t you go and talk with her, grandma?” suggested Henri, “maybe you could have persuaded her, even if her father could not; she must have been a silly young lady, I’m sure.”

“O my dear boy!” exclaimed grandma. “If you had known Martha Grey, you could not have said that. No; she was a beautiful girl, but a most mistaken one,” and grandma sighed. “I went to visit her, myself, many times, and most earnestly did I try to persuade her to quit the company of this reckless and dissipated young man. Poor Martha’s face would turn very pale as I talked with her, but her voice was low and decided as she replied:—

“‘I know you think him very bad, dear friend, but poor Joseph is not altogether so, and he has promised me to quit his cups entirely, and I am sure he will. I think it is my mission to make a good man of Joe,—to reform him, in fact, and I believe I can do it, at least, I mean to try.’ So in spite of all that I could do, and in spite of the efforts of her father, and many interested friends, she ran away from home and married the poor drunkard.”

“I think it is my mission to make a good man of Joe.”

“Didn’t Joe behave himself any better then?” asked Henri.

“Better?—no, no; and from that moment, the fate of the poor, mistaken girl was sealed. To be sure, her wretched husband would have periods of repenting, and spend days and nights of misery and remorse, but the demon which he had entertained and fed so many long years was not to be easily banished.”

“Did Mr. Grey ever forgive his daughter and take her home again?” queried Bertha, her blue eyes full of tears, “O, I hope so, grandma.”

“Mr. Grey was a kind father, and he loved his daughter very tenderly. So, after a while he went to see Joe, and invited him to take a position as clerk in his store. The poor fellow was only too glad to accept the kind offer, and promised most faithfully to reform. Of course, his devoted wife was much encouraged, and for a time all went well.

“But, my children,” continued grandma, “there is nothing but the power of Christ, which can lay hold of the victim of rum, and stand him upon his feet and keep him from falling. But for this wonderful power, poor Joe had never asked.

“Still he struggled in his own strength,—struggled most pitifully, to break the strong bands which bound him,—struggled vainly as poor Samson did when he was shorn of his strength. But it was only a few weeks before poor Joe had fallen again. Some of his old companions, jealous of his success and altered circumstances, determined to compass his ruin.

“‘Come in, Joe, man, come in and take a glass with your old friends,’ they called one day as he was passing a saloon where he had so lately been a drunken idler. Joe had not the courage to refuse, for there was nothing so dreaded by him as to have it said that he was tied to a woman’s apron string.”

“O, I’m so sorry!” exclaimed Bertha, for she was a very sympathetic little girl. “Of course, the foolish man went into the saloon.”

“Indeed, he did, and when he came out again, his drunken legs would scarcely carry him home.”

“Of course, the foolish man went into the saloon.”

“Did his father-in-law send him away now? I’m very sure I should,” reflected Max stoutly. “I would not have a drunken man about.”

“I am glad to know that you hate strong drink, my lad,” replied grandma, placing her hand kindly upon his head, “but we must none of us forget that Christ died for all, even the poor drunkard, and we should pity, and do all we can for him. Yes, Mr. Grey forgave him and took him back, not only this time, but many times afterward, until finally after a few years, his poor wife, beautiful Martha Grey, died heartbroken and wretched.

“Then Joe went away, and after a time he went to sea. Finally, after many years, he became the wretched, drunken outcast whom you saw to-day.

“Now children, I have told you the story of poor old Joe, and I want you to learn this verse, which is one of the proverbs of Solomon, the wise man:—

“‘For the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty; and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags.’”

LITTLE JOEY

OLD JOE

THE BEGINNING AND THE ENDING