Ten Nights in a Bar RoomArthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay)
General
Ten Nights in a Bar Room
Arthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay)
Christian fiction; Temperance -- Fiction
Disgusted with every thing about the bar, I went into the sitting-room.
Here, there was some order in the arrangement of the dingy furniture;
but you might have written your name in dust on the looking-glass and
table. The smell of the torpid atmosphere was even worse than that of
the bar-room. So I did not linger here, but passed through the hall,
and out upon the porch, to get a draught of pure air.
Slade still sat leaning against the wall.
"Fine day this," said he, speaking in a mumbling kind of voice.
"Very fine," I answered.
"Yes, very fine."
"Not doing so well as you were a few years ago," said I.
"No--you see--these--these 'ere blamed temperance people are ruining
everything."
"Ah! Is that so?"
"Yes. Cedarville isn't what it was when you first came to the 'Sickle
and Sheaf.' I--I--you see. Curse the temperance people! They've ruined
every thing, you see. Every thing! Ruined--"
And he muttered and mouthed his words in such a way, that I could
understand but little he said; and, in that little, there was scarcely
any coherency. So I left him, with a feeling of pity in my heart for
the wreck he had become, and went into the town to call upon one or two
gentlemen with whom I had business.
In the course of the afternoon, I learned that Mrs. Slade was in an
insane asylum, about five miles from Cedarville. The terrible events of
the day on which young Hammond was murdered completed the work of
mental ruin, begun at the time her husband abandoned the quiet,
honorable calling of a miller, and became a tavern-keeper. Reason could
hold its position no longer. When word came to her that Willy and his
mother were both dead, she uttered a wild shriek, and fell down in a
fainting fit. From that period the balance of her mind was destroyed.
Long before this, her friends saw that reason wavered. Frank had been
her idol. A pure, bright, affectionate boy he was, when she removed
with him from their pleasant cottage-home, where all the surrounding
influences were good, into a tavern, where an angel could scarcely
remain without corruption. From the moment this change was decided on
by her husband, a shadow fell upon her heart. She saw, before her
husband, her children, and herself, a yawning pit, and felt that, in a
very few years, all of them must plunge down into its fearful darkness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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