A PLEA.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 5, 30 January 1892, Page 114

A PLEA.

How can any woman who lias husband, brother or son, say that it is all right fora man to take a social glass ’ Is it not that very social glass that has ruined so many of our fathers and husbands. I have in mind a young lady who at a Christmas gathering, not long ago, refused a glass of wine, and in consequence every other lady present also refused it. Her example was not in vain. She was a stranger in the house. The work of rescuing our husbands and sons from the demon of drunkenness rests with us. We must do it or it will be left undone. Dear girls have nothing to do with a man who takes even a social glass. If by your attention you encourage him, he will take more and finally become a drunkard. This may seem going pretty far, but desperate diseases require desperate remedies. I would rather see a man’on his death bed than to see him drunk, even though he were my nearest and dearest. A man never yet reformed for any woman’s sake. He may promise all sorts of things before marriage, but forgets all about them after. And remember, when you are married to a drunkard there is no escape. You may get a divorce, but your life will be ruined nevertheless. And what pure woman wants to go to a divorce court. Mothers teach your children the evil effects of this curse of mankind from their earliest childhood. A boy who loves his mother will not easily be led from the path of duty which she has instilled into his mind. M e have temperance meetings and temperance preachers all over the land, but the preacher who can do the most good is the mother at her own fireside. \ hope that every reader is faithful in excluding all alcoholic dishes from her table. Let me give you a scene from real life. It is Christmas and the family are at dinner. A bright handsome boy of say six summers is the pride and joy of parents and friends. ‘ Mother, may I have some more sauce ?’ And with proud and willing hands she helps him to more of the rich brandy sauce. After dinner, when all the other children are at play, the boy conies to his mother and complains of headache. Little does the mother think, as she folds her darling in her arms, that it is the sauce or rather the brandy in it which has caused the headache. Time rolls relentlessly on and again we see the family on Christinas Eve. Our boy is now a handsome lad of fifteen and is joining his companions in their frolic in the large kitchen. <>n the table stands a large pitcher of hard cider, from which he continually refreshes himself. The kind, indulgent parents would rather die than do their boy any harm, ami yet they are placing ruin for body and soul in his way. Let us look once more at our hero. He is a young man at college, and in his room at night he is in a helpless condition, while on the table are bottles and glasses. He and his companions have been having a • arousal and it is not the first one either. He has entered full upon his career as a drunkard. Far away is his poor mother praying that no harm may come to her boy, little thinking that the brandy sauce and cider she gave him in her ignoiance have led to his ruin. Oh ! mothers, be careful that you do not likewise.