The Storyteller.

White Ribbon, Volume 17, Issue 199, 18 January 1912, Page 13

The Storyteller.

THE RECONSTRUCTION of the COLONEL JENNIE X. HTAXUIFEK. When Annie Brooks and Alien Lambert were married, Colonel Hampton Brooks, uncle and guardian of the bride, gave her away with his blessing, and promptly turned over to the groom his niece’s neat little fortune of £‘lo,ooo in real estate and cash. “ Women,” the Colonel was accustomed to sav, 4 are no more fitted for business than men are fitted for housework and baby-tending. The Ixird made them each for a special sphere, and they should not dabble in each other’s work, or meddle wth each other’s rights.” He invariably appended the latter statement when total abstinence oi temperance movements were under discussion, usually settling the question as to the right or wrong of the open saloon by asserting: “ Take away the individual s liberty of action and you strike a blow at the vitals of our great republic.” Being accustomed to regard the Colonel as the embodiment of wisdom, not one of bis family dared to raise the feeblest protest against this opinion. Soon after Annie’s marriage, her husband, having complete control of her property, and she being dependent upon his bounty, sold her land and town residences in Mississippi, and moved to the prairie district of Arkansas. While the Colonel regretted his niece’s departure, ho expressed no objection, believing that her husband held control of her destiny.

1 Miring the tiist year of her residence in Arkansas, Annie Lambert wrote frequently to her uimle and to members of bis family, and gave glowing descriptions of her beautiful prairie home. But gradually the letters became less cheerful, and were infrequent, in ten years, letters from her were a rarity, and her circumstances in her home, or the condition of the family pocket book, were never mentioned.

Besides being a busy lawyer, the Colonel was a member of the tState Senate, and so much occupied by his own affairs, and the public weal, was he that it did not occur to him to wonder at his niece’s silence. It was in the midst of a heated discussion by the politicians of his State upon the amendment of the law relating to the property rights of married women, that he received a letter from Annie. It fairly startled the Colonel. She implored him to come to her at once, saying that she needed his help and advice, and that there was no way to help her unless she saw him in person. ‘‘Annie must be getting cranky,” Colonel Brooks said to his wife. “ But I’ll humour the child. I’ll give her a surprise by going to her without replying to her letter.”

It was upon a cold, gloomy November afternoon that the Colonel stepped from the train at the station ten miles from where Annie lived. He procured a horse from the livery stable, and ascertained the whereabouts of the Lambert farm. The road was boggy, and he travelled slowly. He was within half a mile of the place to w hich he had been directed, when it began to rain in torrents. A double log cabin was near the road and he hurried to it for shelter. Riding through the open gate, ho stopped near a shed where a ragged, tow-headed youth was chopping wood. “Kvenin’, Mister!” greeted the boy, cordially. “ Light and come in.” “Thank you, my boy. May I hitch my horse under the shed until the shower is over ?” “ Sartin ! Hitch him and time right in to the stove room and dry ott.” The boy led the way in to the rickety lean-to, where a rusty old cooking stove w as smoking w ith a newly-made tire, and a young girl was making preparations to cook supper. Sorry I can’t take you to the open fireplace,” the boy apologized, “ hut Maw is oncoiumon sick with fever and ager.” “This is all right, son. I’m glad to get near the stove.” “ Jest set here and make yourself to home, Mister, while I’m splittin’ wood

under the shed. Law’s down to the Cross Roads, and thar ain t no tollin’ when he will pull in.” “Go on about your wood chopping 1 11 excuse you,” replied the Colonel. The girl was in the pantry mixing bread. A small child opened the door leading into the adjoining room, and stood gazing with wondering eyes at the stranger. Before the visitor could greet her, a woman s tired, drawling voice floated into the “ stove room.”

“ I sho’ would like to help you, Mis’ Lambert, but my ole man ain’t much better’n yourn as a pervider. We got Hour bread now in the house for the fust time in two months, and if I lent it out, he would raise the roof often the house, if he found it out.” “If you could just lend me u quart of meal, and a few slices of meat, Mrs Simmons, I’d pay you back in a day or two. As soon as Mr Lambert sobers up, he w ill buy some provisions. We are almost starving.” “That’s about the fix of most of us since Bill Hinkins opened his saloon at the Cross Roads. If something ain’t done to stop him, we won’t have a shelter over our heads by another year. But you git the meat and meal outen the box thar in the oornder, Mis’ Lambert. Wish it was more I could do for vou.”

“ I suppose you know our place is to be sold next week,” replied r hopeless voice. “If I could only have held the land, or—” From the vicinity of the gate came a hoarse, snarling call : “Annie! Annie! Come on home and cook my supper! It’s gad around and gab with you. the minute I’m gone. Get along here, I tell you !” Colonel Brooks lnard the woman in the next room rush to the door, and down the steps. It was still raiuing, but he thanked the girl for the privilege of sitting by the stove, and hurried out to his horse. “Goin’, Mister? Better wait till the rain’s over! ’ advised the boy. “Thank you, hut I am going to the Lamberts’, and that is not far away. That was his w ife in your mother’s room was it not ?” “ Yes, sir. Yonder she goes now, a tearin down the road after her old man like Tucker, and him a ridin' at a gallop and cussin’ her at every jump! It’s a shame the way he beats her when he’s drunk.’ ’ Boiling with indignation the Colonel started down the road in pursuit, but the jaded horse made slow progiess, and he barely kept the man and woman in sight. A quarter of a mile dow n the road was a “wet weather branch, ’ which was now

overflowing its banks. Colonel Brooks saw the man he was following ride the horse recklessly into the stream, and the woman run after him, regardless of the icy water and mud. Her hair was halfway down her hack, and her thin garments were bespattered with mud from the horse’s hoofs. “ Stop !” shouted the Colonel at the top of his voice. But the woman seemed dea* to everything save the man's growling curses. On down the miry road they went, at a rate that was amazing. Finally they turned in at a ramshackle gate, and the woman entered the cabin, and struck a light. The man took the saddle and bridle from the horse, threw' them into the “ entry,” and stamped into the room where his wife awaited him. Colonel Brooks hitched his horse and ran up the tumble-down steps.

“ What do you mean by gadding over the country and not a bite of supper cooked ?’’ demanded the harsh voice inside the cabin. “ I didn’t have anything to cook, Allen,” replied the woman. “ I went over to Mrs Simmons’ to borrow some meat and meal.” “And talk about me, did you? I’ll teach you to idle away your time and gossip—” “Don’t, Allen! Don’t strike me! You re drunk, and—” With the fury of a tiger, Colonel Brooks strode into the room and grasped the man’s uplifted hand. “ Allen Lambert, you have me to deal with now’!” The man, suddenly sobered, turned pale with fright. “ Colonel Brooks !” he stammered. “ Yes, and your wife, the woman w hom you sw ore to love and cherish and protect is my niece.” He turned his gaze upon the faded, haggard woman in her drabbled dress, and continued: “You cowardly, sneaking rascal! 1 have half a mind to kill you outright!” In his rage the Colonel caught the trembling man by the shoulder and shook him as a terrier would a *'at. “ I will thrash you within an inch of your life !” He raised his riding whip, but his arm was caught and held by the frail little woman. “Don’t—don’t, Uncle! It is not Allen who has mistreated me, but it’* the whiskey in him that has turned him to a demon. He is not himself.” “ 1 couldn’t retain my self-respect and let such cruelty go unpunished, Annie.”

“ Leave his punishment to a higher Power, Uncle. You must take me home with you. I cannot bear this life longer !” Allen Lambert looked up in dismay. “ You cannot mean that, Annie. 1 know I have been neglectful—cruel, even, but—forgive me, Annie ! 1 promise you I will never touch another drop of whiskey “ You have made that promise often, Allen. 1 have been degraded, insulted, half starved, and you have reached the limit. In another week we will be homeless—you have spent ail of my money, and 1 refuse to support you longer.” “You are right, Annie !” declared the Colonel. “This man has betrayed the trust imposed in him, and as your nearest of kin, i will see that you are protected. If you can reform and go to work, I will give you a jol> on one of my plantations, hut never can you outer my door, or claim Annie, unless there is a complete reformation, Lambert.” “ How’ can I reform, Colonel, with the temptations around me ?” wailed the miserable man. “ Leave them ! I*at temptation out of your reach /” The Colonel stopped suddeidy. All his life long he had advocated the theory that a man who was too weak to resist the temptation to drink more than he could walk straight under, was not worth the saving. “ Put temptation out of a man’s reach !” That was what the dry ticket had argued in the last political campaign, and he had laughed at the idea. Evidently his theory and practice did not agree. But Annie must be rescued at ail hazards, and the poor wretch w ho had fallen into the depths of degradation must be given a chance—if he would take it.

“ 1 11 offer you one more chance, Allen Lambert,” said the Colonel slowly. “ 1 will give you the management of a place 1 own in a dry county. If you have manhood enough left to reform, and straighten out again, I’ll see what I can do for you later. But until then 1 am Annie’s protector, and you are not to annoy her with your presence. When your business is closed out here, you can return to Mississippi. (I will leave a ticket for you at the station.) You may prepare for a daylight start, Annie, as I go home to-morrow. ’ The Colonel returned to his native iState with a troublesome “ bee in his bonnet. n During his entire public

career he had fought against the proposed amendment of the law regarding the property rights of married women, and he had also, when Prohibition l»e----came an issue of a campaign, boldly espoused the wet ticket. And now- he realized that his most cherished theories and policies were somewhat faulty. Kor weeks after he had brought poor, crushed, overworked little Annie home, he pondered over the perplexing question as to whether he should become a political turncoat, or stolidly stick to bis old principles. One morning, as the Colonel sat in his office, the door opened and Allen Lambert entered. “ I have come to accept your proposition, Colonel Brooks,” he said humbly. “ I tried to fight it out—to reform in Arkansas, where whiskey is almost as plentiful as water, —but it was no use. I must get where I can’t get it. I am r‘*ady for work on a farm a hundred miles from a grog-shop, if 1 can find it.” “ Very well, Allen, you shall have a ehance. And the Lord helping me ” the Colonel s voice was strong and clear —“ I vow here, and now, to reconstruct my policy as to the liquor question, and other matters concerning the rights of the helpiess, no matter what may be said of me, and though I am snowed way under in my next candidacy for office !”