Part 6 (1/2)

”Yes, you, you, I was a thousand times worse. Look at me now.”

”Yes, mother, you. Come.” And she took her by the hand and led her up to the table, put a pen in her hand--dropt upon her knees--looked up to her mother imploringly--up to heaven prayerfully--her lips quivered--the tears rolled down her cheeks--”Now, mother, now.”

'Tis done. She wrote her name in a fair hand--Mary Reagan--'Tis done.

'Tis done!--'tis done!--wild Maggie cries; 'Tis done!--'tis done!--the mother sighs; 'Tis done!--'tis done!--in chorus join, To bear aloft the news along.

'Tis done!--'tis done! a voice replies, Stand forth, be strong, and you shall rise.

And so she did. She never fell. She came to live in the house with Maggie. ”I cannot go back,” she said, ”to live with your father, if I would stand fast; and I cannot think, after hearing that woman's story, last night, of ever drinking again. I know that woman; I knew her when she was a girl, one of the proudest and prettiest. My husband has spent many a dollar with hers in the bar-room. Oh yes, I knew her well. I did not know her last night; but when she told me who she was--that she was Elsie Wendall--then I knew her. Oh! I could tell you such a story--but not now. No! no, I cannot live with your father again, for I never will drink any more--never--never!”

”But what, if father will take the pledge?”

”Oh! then I should be a happy woman again. But there is no hope.”

”Yes, there is hope. I shall watch him; and, mother, I _will_ save him.”

It was a great promise--a great undertaking for a young girl to promise with an ”I will.” When did ”I will” in woman's mouth ever fail?

That will was the strength of her life. It was for that she now lived and labored. Now she had hope--now 'twas lost--now revived again. Now he worked a month--sober for a whole month--then down he went if he happened to go into one of his old haunts, or meet with some of his old companions, who said, ”come, Jim, let's take one drink--only one--one won't do any hurt”--but two follow the one. Then Maggie would look him up, get him sober again, and get him to work.

G.o.d bless that child! G.o.d did bless her, for she stuck to him, until he finally consented to come once, just once to the temperance meeting--but he would not sign the pledge--he never would sign away his liberties--no--he was a free man. Well only come, come and listen--come and see mother. That touched him. He loved mother--Yes he would come.

The evening came. Maggie watched every shadow that darkened the door.

Finally the last one seemed to have entered, but Jim Reagan was not among them. Maggie could not give it up. She slipped out into the street, it was well she did. She was just in time. A knot of men were talking together, of the tyranny of temperance men, wanting to make slaves of the people, getting them to sign away their rights--rights their fathers fought and bled for.

Yes, and so had they--at the nose.

They had just carried the point, and started to follow Cale Jones over to his grocery, who was going to stand treat all round. One lingered a moment--looked back--as though he had promised to go that way--but appet.i.te was too strong for conscience, and he turned towards the rum-hole. Just then a gentle hand is laid upon his arm, and a sweet voice says:

”Father, come with me, come and see mother--don't go with those men.”

Woman conquered.

When Cale Jones counted noses, to see which he should charge with the treat he had promised ”to stand,” he found Jim Reagan was not in the crowd.

”Why, d.a.m.n the fellow, he has given us the slip after all our trouble.

I thought we had made a sure thing of it. I tell you what it is, boys, we must manage somehow to stop this business, or trade is ruined. If people are not to be allowed to drink anything but water, there'll be many an honest man out of business. Times is hard enough now, what'll they be then?”

Just then Tom Nolan, the mason--it used to be Drunken Tom Nolan--was telling what they would be, at the temperance meeting.

It was a propitious time for Maggie. She led her father in, he hung back a little, and tried to get into a dark corner near the door. That she would not allow; some of Satan's imps might drag him away from the very threshold of salvation. She led him along, he was sober now, and looked sad, perhaps, ashamed.

”James, you here? Oh!”

It was his wife. He knew her voice, it was that of other days. He stared at her; could it be her, so neat, and clean, and well dressed, and speaking so fondly to him--to him--for she had refused to see him ever since she took the pledge. Now, she came forward, took him by the hand, ragged and dirty as he was--she knew what would clean him--led him to a seat and sat down by his side. Maggie sat on the other. For a minute the speaker could not go on. There was a choking in his throat, strong man as he was, and there were many tears in the eyes that looked upon that father, mother, and daughter, that night.

”Jim Reagan,” said the speaker, ”I am glad to see you here. You are an old acquaintance of mine.”

Jim Reagan looked at him with astonishment. Could that well dressed laboring man, clean shaved and clean s.h.i.+rted, be Tom Nolan?