THE DRUNKARD'S DAUGHTER.

Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume LXV, Issue LXV, 15 November 1913, Page 9

THE DRUNKARD'S DAUGHTER.

don% boys, he's my papa!" Her papa I Cfccd help her, slight, fragile child that she was, with tangled,-•dusk-brown curls shading a face delicately fair as a wild rose, and large, ■StarKke eyes, in which dwelt a pathetic -sadness seldom dispelled, even By the tfaint exquisite smilethat -duly too rarely graced her sweet child Mps. Clad in jgarments little less than tatters, she sat, in a narrow street of tlie great city, j ■the guardian angel of a man lying prone at her side, wholly swallowed up in strong drink. Degraded beyond alTportrayal, his besotted mien still bore ia-arces tlat he hacl once been a gentleman of refinement and culture, although aiow bis dwelling jflsce was in the lowest slums in the city/ and of a once happy family all that remained to him was

"hapless little Blossom—the fair child "-*ngel, who sat beside him in the hot August sunlight, watching over liis insensate sleep with a tender patience *tnrely born »b£ lleaven. . Whai mattered it that his •erring course daily smote every joy fewou her

young 'life? He was her father, who, in "the few, rare moments wfeen comparatively sober,: was tenderness itself to the gentle child over whom ~he at suet times often brokenly weipt. "My little Blossom! Ange&c coinitterof .your lost another, it -would be well -for you if your miserable sot of a father were dead!" and ardently longing, yet too weak to break the demon thrall enslaving him 7 he would Hee her presence to seek renewed oblivion of "his fallen estate in deeper drink than ever. Still, "lie had "never yet laid violent liands on her, thougli %when irascibly drunk lie had often spoken unkindly to Tier, which, white it sorely grieved 'her little heart, lessened not' ier loving watch over Trim. A watcfr; that daily sought him at the "vileTesorts' lie Tiaunted, cautiously keeping out of "His sight till he came forth, staggering, as she knew he would come. Then.6he< would flit $o his side, steal iher hand-; In his, and gently .say: > > , "Papa, "dt's your little Blossom, w!holoves you so she had to come and find you," and, with words of harsh reproof. «r maudlin approval, he woald rpermiti her to lead him along till th^y reached

the wretched place they called "home,"

or he sank by the wayside in a stupor x >*uch as bound him on the <da.y she -so U>iteousjy > cried::

... "Please don't, boys; he's my ipapa!" The boys in question were a--troop of vicious "street arabs," whom Ahe sight of the prostrate drunkard and his leal young daughter had filed with ithe malicious resolve to "have some fun out of them," so they .phrased it. And the^y had set .about it .with a will that not only flung tEe offal of the street upon daughter and father, but finally began pelting the .latter with stones. With all her helpless might, the terrified child strove to shield her father, wildly imploring them "not to hurt herjpapa." But her distress was only added sport to them till.at last one threw a ,stoj*e, Sfhich struck the drunkard's head, inflicting a frightful wound that caused every boy to swiftly vanish from the spot, leaving ,poor little Blossom gazing

upon .her father as if suddenly turned

to stone. Only an instant, then she \ fell senseless on his bosom, just as the

pain of his wounded head aroused the unhappy ,man to the fell hor-rors of a sudden attack of delirium tremens, hastened on by the action of the intense lieat of the sun upon liquor-congested "strain.

Not comprehending the cause of the

iinsensible weight upon his bosom, he '.half arose .and hurled his child from ihim with a, maniacal fury that left her lying beside him so deadly -white and ■ still that he turned and glared upon her with the blank, : meaningless stare of an iidiot. i

Then it seemed to enter his distraught: "brain that he had harmed his little Biossom in' some unaccountable way, and,•clutching her in his arms, he leaped to' his feet with a giant's strength and. -turned i,o flee from the street. But ere lie could speed on his" way, shrieking at .«very step, hefotsnd himself seized in -the iron grasp of a man of rarely noble sand commanding niien.

In yews, this man was absut thirty, ty profession a physician, the possessor -of ample wealth and a practical Christian phils.nthropist, who devoted his -time, talents, and fortune principally to -the relief of suffering humanity in whatsoever f6rna it might appeal ta him. he had chanced to be in that part the city, on an errand of mercy -to a yearly dying creature, who «-as the sole .occupant of a miserable attic in one of the old tenement houses that overlooked ;£he narrow' street, thereby making him an indignant spectator of the frantic distress inflicted upon poor little Blossom. But the wretched object of his'ministry requiring his immediate attention, all he had been able to do was 4o momentarily lean from the open window of the attic, and command the boys to instantly cease their cruel sport.-

A volley of mocking jeers had solely answered him, and, too well acquainted with the character of the people among whom he had ventured to appeal to them with any surety of their protecting the defenceless child, he was forced to wait till at liberty to hasten to her deliverance himself. Then, alas 1 as he -turned to leave the attic, he had caught, from the open window, a horrified view 4>f the stone flung with such fatal effect,

SHORT STORY.

By Hesperian.

and, fairly flying down the rickety stairs, he had reached the street, only to encounter the shrieking madman fleeing from it, as already detailed. But, being a man of powerful strength, he promptly seized him. with a force that yet would not have overcome his resistance, had not a noted detective, deeply disguised and in. that locality for professional reasons, happening to approach, and raising a whistle to his lips, summoned to his aid two strong-armed policemen, who had been stationed near for a purpose known only to themselves aad their chief, who ringingly cried:

boys! It's Doctor Rieland against 'Old Rumbloat' Burasby, possessed of ten thousand 'blue devils' at last. Take the poor little kid first, then we'll have the drop on the old boy at short notice!" and they obeyed him with a will that soon secured the still unconscious child, and laid her madly struggling father on the ground, pinioned beyond any chance of escape.

Then, after the doctoT had bound up his head, .meanwhile detailing how it came to be, injured, the Selective proposed taking him to the police station belonging to that precinct, Tjxrt the doctor decisively replied:

"No, it is not the place for him, especially as he has done nothin, so far as we 'know, to merit such treatment beyond drinking himself into his present state. So let me take charge of both him and the child, and I wSI care for them according io their needs."

Knowing how surely he would keep his word, the detective cordially assisted in conveying them to a private hospital, established and sustained at the doctor's benevolent expense..

And when the drunkard came to his senses, it was to find himself and child not only most tenderly cared for, but the latter lying Jn a fever thai wildly raved of "the wicked stoning that had kflled her papa," she despairingly wept again and again, shrieking.forth every detail in words of agony, ofteni blended •with the heart-rending plea :

"On, papa, don't -drink any more, so we can be happy like people whose :papas are never called 'old Bum Bloat'!"

But when her father, clothed in his sober sense, and in garments such as he had not worn for years, was permitted to visit her bedside, she beat him away with all the force of her little, fever-nerved arms, rpiteously persisting::

"No,, no! You're ziot my papa, beI cause he always smells of drink, and never wears such nice clothes as you .dot" '■-.;■ I Every word was liloe a sword thrust to the wretched man, whose presence made her so frantic that finally he was forced to leave her, acid not approach .her again till the doctor was able to hless him with the tidings that she had not only regained her senses and would live, but that she insisted she could not believe her papa was Iking till he came and told her so himself. Then, without a word, he followed the doctor to where she lay, looking so unearthly fair and fragile that she seemed less a being of earth than of heaven, as she feebly cried: g

"Oh, papa, is it really you—-your very own self?" .

"Yes, my little Blossom, angel of papa'slife-'" wept heua father, bending down and kissing her with a new, reverent tenderness.

"Oh, I'm so glad, for I thought those bad boys had killed you!" she shuddering sighed; adding, in tones of keenly observant wonder: "But, pajvi, what makes you look so- white, and where did you get such nice clothes?"

"Our kind friend, the doctor., gave them to ane, and I "

"Had "better not talk any more at present," quietly interrupted the doctor, "for," turning to the wan 'little invalid, "it might make our wee lady •worse again. But if papa would like to, lie irtay sit by her while she takes a little nap."

"Would you, papa, really and truly?" was the eagerly searching question.

c:Yes, my darling;" he murmured, witli a quiver jn his voice, only too well remembering what bitter cause he izad givew his child to again wistfully question : ■ , ■

"Better than you would like to stay anywhere else?'1'

"Yes^ little daughter., better tlran anywhes-e else in all the world!" was the unmistakable reply; and, silently marvellifig' at '-'the change in papa," Blossom ~io]-> uo>- Tvind in 'Ms, and soon fell intj -.sl kii^, refreshing : sleep, from which she awoke to the blessed surety of finding Mm still beside her.

'. It was a delightfully new .experience to her, daily continued, without the interruption of further words (respecting it, till at last, one day,', she •suddenly cried oufc*. ' ,

"Papa, I can't understand it!" "What, little daughter?" '.'Why—-you—l— Oh, papa! Win it hurt you if I ask you to tell me what it all means?" and the child's fragile face crimsoned like a rose.

"No, Blossom. Ask .papa what you will, and. he will tell you all you want to know."

"Even if it should be ■J" Again Blossom paused, and, w;th a singularly sad smile, and $ter father gently finished :• "You mean about my drinMngP" "Yes, papa," was the choking reply.

Tenderly kissing her, he arose, and, kneeling down by the bedside, bowed his face in the bedclothes for a few silent moments, then, lifting his head, he took her hands in his, and, holding her gaze by the impressive fervor of his dark, magnetic eyes, he thrillingly said:

"Blossom, little daughter, papa has at last promised God, if He will only spare your life, to never drink another drop of liquor as long as'he lives!"

"And this is why you never smell of drink any more, and are so kind to me, and why you look so nice, and are so pale all the time?" breathlessly poured forth the child.

"Yes, little daughter." "And you really mean you'll never drink any more as long as you live?" "Never, as long as I live!" "But, papa, you said if God would spare my life. Don't you think you ought to say you will not drink, whether He lets me live or not?" timidly questioned Blossom, for, hard as her life had been, God had added her unto "His little ones," sowing in her young soul, through the passing ministry of some unexpected human compassion, germs of His divine grace that had duly 'blossomed into a child's simple faith beautiful to behold.

And as her clear eyes met his, her father could only liken her unto a snow-white lily, whose purity and grace had been won

"From the age of the darksome deep" into which his thirst for drink had cast her, and her innocent rebuke pierced him so justly that he again bowed nis face in silent prayer—this time humbly lifting his head to brokenly breathe forth:

"My child, you are right; and here, in your presence and God's holy sight, I solemnly swear to never drink any sort of liquor again as lond as I live, whether your lift- is spared or not!"

The delighted child threw her arms about her father's neck, fairly smothering^ him with kisses, as she joyfully cried:,

"Oh, papa, papa, now I know you'll never drink any more, and we'll be so good and happy maybe God will let us both live ever so many years longer!"

Two days later, the doctor, accompanied by her father, had her removed to his residence—an elegant brownstone front, over which his aunt, an only living relative, a childless widow, most charmingly presided. Yet lonely indeed had been the lovely interior till Blossom's sweet voice s^ang through it "like angel music from a brighter world," the doctor rapturously affirmed, y when she greY able to flit through the exquisite rooms at her own gentle will—sole queen of every heart from her father, the doctor, and his aunt, down to the lowliest servant.

But her father's wonderful transformation! How was it effected? Briefly as follows: First, Doctor Rieland's vivid portrayal of his child's vain efforts to shield him from the cruel sport which finally cast her senseless on his bosom, and her ravings piteously confirming the truth of it, added to her delirious entreaties respecting his. drinking, and the agonised recollection of all she had been to him, with the deadly fear of losing her, was, altogther, a means in God's hand to effectually rouse him to an appalling realisation of his evil course. Nest, on informing the doctor that his name was Harold Burnsby, and that the man he had best loved on earth had been Halford Rieland, the following facts were elicited: Halford Rieland was the doctor's recently deceased father, whose dying charge/to him had been :

"My son, if you ever find Harold Burnsby, whom I have vainly sought to discover for years, act a son's part by him, no matter what his condition may be, for I not only loved him as a brother, but remember this: Shortly after our marriage, he saved your mother's life at the cost pf an illness to himself, which left him a slave to drink through the daily stimulus prescribed for him by his attending physician.

And it was in consequence of this slavery that the wretched man had ultimately fled with his family from the city, leaving not a clue by which to trace him. Yet, when bereft of all save Blossom, a strange fascination had drawn him back to hide his degradation where he had once dwelt, a courted equal among those, not one of whom would have recognised him. So five years had passed when Doctor Rieland discovered in him the one man he most desired to serve, so faithfully acting a son's part by him that, when -he besought the privilege of aiding him to again become all that he once had been, lo! the work was accomplished which smote the erring man to his knees, brokenly vowing, if God would only spare h>s child's life, to surely vanquish his love for drink.

And the result was, that finding him an excellent penman, and needing the assistance of an amanuensis, t~-~ .doctor inimediateiy installed him in •*•"■••; por-

tion at a salary which seemed a i..:Li:;;g to the late miserable, outcast drunkard. But Heaven only knew what it cost him to fight b.aek the fell thirst for drink that daily consumed hina.

Howsoever, by the doctor's aid, and Ms own earnest entreaties' to God for strength to resist temptation, he steadily gained the mastery at last, ihough worn to a thin, pale shadow, he was a free man once more-

Aye, a free man, who so nobly won back the lost power and command of. a fine intellect that it enabled him to eventually wield a pen in the cause of temperance, which triumphantly crowned him with richly merited honor in the sight of all men and justly earned competence besides.

Meanwhile, his little Blossom had not stood still, daily growing in a grape and loveliness that duly expanded into a womanhood/" which so royally realised the promise of her childhood that ehe

turned from the adoring homage of the many younger suitors who sought her hand in marriage, to bestow the divine gift of her love upon the grand-souled man, who had so timely rescued her and her father from a life of untold wretchedness. True, a score of years lay between them; but, throned in her soul, 'By the fond unity of head and heart," he was her king, freely elected to lead her—a bride in his sight, fair as an angel—to the altar that made her forever the light of his home, where the beloved presence of her father dwelt with them till the summons came which sent to his expiring lips the words: "Blossom, my daughter from the Lord, angel of my evil days, as well as of my dying hour! Farewell!" and with a smile of ineffable love, he fell peacefully asleep in Jesus.