For John's Sake Part 17

The hours, brimful of frolic and merriment, pa.s.sed all too quickly for the happy children, and at eight o'clock they gathered in the dining-room for the early supper. The long table was covered with luxuries, and beside each child's plate was a small gla.s.s of wine.

"Now, dear children, make yourselves quite at home, and ask for anything you want," said the hostess, as her little guests took their places.

"May I have a gla.s.s of water, please?" asked an eight-year-old boy, soon after supper had commenced, pus.h.i.+ng his gla.s.s of wine aside.

"Oh, my dear Charlie, I am sure you will like a gla.s.s of wine much better. Gentlemen always take wine, you know," replied the lady.

"I mus'n't take wine, please, because I belong to the Young Abstainers'

Union," replied Charlie.

"Why, whatever kind of a Union is that, my boy?" asked the host.

"It means that those who join it have promised never to touch wine or anything of the kind."

"Stuff and nonsense! You'll never be a man unless you can drink a gla.s.s of wine with your friends."

Charlie coloured, but pushed his gla.s.s further away.

"Never mind, dear! our little friend's whims must not be interfered with. He will learn better when he is older," said the hostess, ordering a gla.s.s of water to take the place of the wine.

Elsie sat next to Charlie, and turning to her the host said:

"Now, Miss Elsie, you don't look as if you belonged to this army of youthful abstainers. Let us see how you can drink your wine; then you shall have the gla.s.s that Charlie despises."

Nothing loth, Elsie obeyed. She had never been allowed more than a sip or two from her father's gla.s.s, and it was many months since even that quant.i.ty had pa.s.sed her lips. What wonder, then, that when supper was ended, and she tried to leave her seat, she should stumble and fall to the ground, overcome by her unwonted indulgence in the stimulant.

"Poor little Elsie! let me help you up," cried Charlie; but Elsie lay at his feet, and kicked and screamed in unaccountable anger. When at last she was picked up, her cheeks were purple with pa.s.sion, and her eyes gleamed with a strange, wild light.

"The excitement has been too much for her, I suppose; but I am quite surprised at such a display of temper. She has always seemed so sweet and gentle," and the hostess hurried Elsie away to the waiting nurse.

"Miss Elsie, Miss Elsie, I am ashamed of you; whatever will your ma say?" expostulated the servant, as Elsie clung to her skirts and refused to say good-night.

"Papa, what is the matter with the child! I never saw her look so strange," exclaimed Mrs. Morgan, taking Elsie a few minutes later from her nurse's arms.

Mr. Morgan sat the child on his knee, and as he did so the fumes of wine met him.

"She has taken more wine than has been good for her; that is what is the matter with our little one!"

The horrified mother sank into a chair, but Elsie raised her dimpled hand and struck at her father, crying in a hoa.r.s.e unnatural voice:

"I haven't, I haven't, you nasty papa! I didn't have half enough of the nice wine."

"That is quite sufficient; take her away, nurse, and put her to bed. I will talk to her to-morrow."

"We have made a great mistake, wife, and are reaping the consequences in seeing our six-year-old child inflamed with the stimulant which we have banished from our own home," said the father, as the door closed.

Mrs. Morgan wept, and made no reply.

Long and seriously did the parents talk to Elsie on the following day, who, easily influenced, as what child of her tender years might not be, listened with tears to the revelation of unknown dangers, and pleaded that she, like Charlie, might make such a promise as would save her childish feet from again being ensnared by the betrayer, and in the following years prove her safeguard and defence.

Mothers, who read this true story, will you not beware of the danger that threatens your little children, and learn that none are too young and fair to escape the toils of strong drink, unless guarded by an intelligent knowledge of the perils that beset them, and a resolve, early formed, never to touch or handle the treacherous cup?

[Ill.u.s.tration]

ROLAND WEST'S MARK,

AND HOW HE MADE IT.

"TELL nurse to bring the children down, Barnes," said Mrs. West, as a servant answered a peal of the dining-room bell.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Barnes, and in a few minutes the children made their appearance. After being introduced to a guest, the elder ones seated themselves at the table, from which the dessert was not yet removed.

"Please, mamma, may I have half a gla.s.s of sherry?" asked one.

"I should like port better," said a second.

"Will you help them, very carefully, please, papa?" asked the mother.

"I want some, too," said a bright, handsome boy of five, upraising his sparkling eyes to his father's face.

"Oh, no, Roland, you are such a wee boy; if you have it, Leonard will want it."

"I do like it so much; let me have just a little drop in papa's gla.s.s,"

teased Roland.

"Oh, come, mamma; that'll never hurt him; only help to make a man of him, won't it, Roland?" said his father.

"Yes, make me a man, like my papa! When I'm big, I'll drink, oh, bottles and bottles; not have a taste of papa's," said the child, looking contemptuously at the remains of the sparkling wine, which, in his father's gla.s.s, had been set before him.

"When you're a man, Roland, you will be a little wiser than you are now," said his father, somewhat sharply.

"I'll be as wise as--as--that man in the picture on the library wall, perhaps."

"Who's that?" asked the guest, in amused tones.

"Why, Gladstone! The precocious youngster strongly admires him, and is for ever declaring his intention of copying his hero's plan of life."

"He has the brow and eye of a genius, West!" said the visitor, gazing in admiration at the boy's face. "I wish I had such a child! What are you going to make of him?"

"I'll give him a good education, first; fit him for the bar, if he takes kindly to the idea, and he ought, for he talks like a lawyer already.

Yes, he'll make his mark, I shouldn't wonder," replied the father, with pride; "but what's the matter with the boy? sleepy! at this time! Here, sit up! Mamma, his forehead's burning. Lucy, has he had a fall upstairs?"