WHEN MARY WAS A LASSIE. The maple trees are tinged with red, You'd hardly think that patient face, Was once the very sweetest one That ever bonnet shaded; But when I went through yonder lane, Those eyes were bright, those cheeks were fair,- But many a tender sorrow since, And many a patient care, Have made those furrows on the face That used to be so fair. Four times to yonder churchyard, Through the lane so still and grassy We've born and laid away our dead,— And so you see I've grown to love They'll carry us through yonder lane Adown the lane I used to go When Mary was a lassie. THE DRUNKARD'S DREAM.-FRANCIS S. SMITH. The drunkard lay on his bed of straw In a poverty-stricken room, And near him his wife and children three Sat shivering in their misery And weeping amid the gloom. NUMBER TEN. And as he slept, the drunkard dreamed When he wooed and won a maiden fair, Again he wandered near the spot And heard the warbling of the birds And caught the fragrance of the flowers Again he at the altar stood And kissed his blushing bride, And thought no prince could rival him, The drunkard's wife is brooding o'er In mute despair she sighs and rocks Her body to and fro. He dreams-she thinks-yet both their thoughts In the same channel flow. But now upon the drunkard's brow A look of horror dwells, And of his fearful agony Each feature plainly tells, Some hideous scene which wakes despair, His dream of bliss dispels! Upon him glares a monster now With visage full of ire, And yelling fiends with ribald songs Replace the feathered choir, And the pure water of the spring Is turned to liquid fire. And as the red flames leap and roar While overhead the stars fade out "Drink, comrade, drink!" the demons cry. Who sell their souls for rum!" No word the drunkard speaks, but stares And now they point him to the brook, But palsied was his tongue, and he The drunkard writhed, and from his brow As round the forms of those he loved The wretched man awoke. He glared around with frenzied eyes,- Sat shivering in their tattered rags And wept outright to look upon A pause a sigh-and reason's light And springing to his feet, he cried, Then reaching forth his trembling hand, A mother's gift when he was wed- The good God's Holy Book; And while his loved ones knelt around, A solemn vow he took. "So help me God, I ne'er again Will touch the poisoned bowl And swells the fearful list of names "Help me, O Lord! to keep this oath- Wherein I'd feel the tempter's power And from his sobbing wife's white lips And then on her wan visage beamed A smile of joy once more, And clinging to her husband's neck, He kept his oath, and from that time No discord now-sweet peace was theirs, And daily both gave thanks to God A JUDGE'S TEMPERANCE LECTURE. At Morris, Grundy county, Illinois, three saloon keepers-one woman and two men-were arrested and indicted for selling liquor to minors. As usual in such cases, the liquor sellers were lavish of their funds in aid of their unfortunate coworkers, and eminent counsel was employed in defense of these destroyers of the bodies and souls of the young and rising generation. But the proof of their guilt was so fully demonstrated that the jury were compelled to pronounce them guilty. Hon. J. N. Reading, the presiding Judge, in pronouncing the sentence of the court, used the following language: The jury having found you guilty of selling intoxicating liquors to a minor, it remains for the court to pronounce the sentence of the law. The penalty of this offense, fixed by the Legislature, indicates that it considered the crime to be of a serious character. By the law you may sell to men and to women if they will buy. You have given your bond and paid for your license to sell to them, and no one has the right to molest you in your legal business. No matter what the consequences may be, no matter what poverty and diestitution are produced by selling according to law, you have paid your money for this privilege, and you are licensed to pursue your calling. No matter what families are distracted and rendered miserable, no matter what wives are treated with violence, what children starve, or mourn over the degradation of a parent, your business is legalized and no one may interfere with you in it. No matter what mother may agonize over the loss of a son or sister blush for the shame of a brother, you have the right to disregard them all and pursue your legal calling; you are licensed. You can fit up your lawful place of business in the most enticing and captivating form; you can furnish it with the most elegant and costly equipments for your lawful trade; you may fill it with the allurements to amusements; you may use all your arts to induce visitors; you may skillfully arrange and expose to view your choice wines and most captivating beverages; you may then induce thirst by all contrivances to produce a raging appetite for drink; and then you may supply that appe tite to the full-because it is lawful; you have a license. You may allow boys, almost children, to frequent your saloon; they may witness the apparent satisfaction with which their seniors quaff the sparkling glass; you may be schooling and training them for the period of twenty-one, when they too can participate, for all this is lawful. You may hold the cup to their very lips: but you must not let them drink—that is unlawful. But, while you have all these privileges for the money which you pay, this poor privilege of selling to children is denied you. Here parents have the right to say, “Leave my son to me until the law gives you the right to destroy him! Do not anticipate that terrible moment when I can assert for him no further rights of protection! That will be soon enough for me, for his mother, for his sisters, for his friends, and for the community, to see him take his road to death. Give him to us in his childhood, at least! Let us have a few years of his young life, in which we may enjoy his innocence, to repay us in some degree for the care and tove we have lavished upon him!" This is something you, who now stand a prisoner at the bar, have not paid for; this is not embraced in your license. You have your "bond" to use in its full extent; but in thus taking your "pound of flesh," you draw the blood, and that which is nearest the heart. The law in its wisdom does not permit this, and you must obey the law. By the verdict of the jury, you have been found guilty of transgressing the law. Its extreme penalty is thirty days' imprisonment in the county jail, and $100 fine; its lowest, ten days' imprisonment and $20 fine. For this offense, the court sentences you to ten days' imprisonment in the county jail, and that you pay a fine of $75 and the costs, and that you stand committed until the fine and costs of this prosecution are paid. |