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PEOPLE’S Volume 1. PEOPLE'S FRIEND, PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING BY A. B. S. MOSELEY, ROME, GA. SUBSCRIPTION, ♦ One year in advance ------- $-2.00 advertising, On" square, first insertion - - - - SI.OO Subsequent insertion, each - . - 50 Liberal contracts made for six or twelve months ad yertisements. TO DRINK, OR NOT TO'"DRINK, BY MARGIE P. MOSELEY. To the author of “Soundings,” Mrs.Lide Meriwether, as a slight token of love •'Ar her disinterested, womanly sympa thy and her unswerving tru f I fulness, ' and in. admiration of her brilliant ge nius, this story is dedicated. CHAPTER VIII. O f~Z) tbnt man old Col. Bull’s son, Uncle?” / asked the young girl as L J . v 'P//||i_ she reached the tout door. xjXS-pj/' zi “Yes; I thought you LnoW him.” knew tliem all » but i*' tins be Dick ho little for several . years, that I forget faces once familiar to me.” “Those faces change, rather, my daughter. Dick lias changed more than any one I ever saw within the past two years.” “But, Uncle, it is utterly incompre hensible to me how such a polished, intelligent gentleman as Dick Bull, could ever descend to the point of degradation nt which he stands to night; still less can I see how his nu merous relatives can thus abandon him to ruin, while they roll in wealth. I never thought when he was ‘the catch' of the city, the most promising young lawyer of the town, and the pride of his family and society, that he would ever come to this. How did it happen; there must be a wrong some where.” “Ha! ha! yes, the same wrong that will bring thousands of others to the same place—the wrong of ‘social drinking.’ His mother was the best woman 1 ever saw; the purest Chris tian, the tenderest parent, the most perfect lady. She prided herself on the line wines which it was her wont to make, and though her sons drank and praised them, she never dreamed Umt in the bottom of the sparkling gl«> . which she handed them, was the worm of d struetion a worm whose sting is misery eternal. But she livi d to see all the evil, lived to shed tears of gall and wormwood over that prom ising son. I have sei n her kneel in the streets and pray to him to leave the seem s of debauchery, and for her loving entreaties and tender ph tidings receive cuises and threats.' “I heard he had b en married,” said Al ee. here is h s wife?” “At her father's home. She lived w.th In r husband eight months, dur ing which she suffered all the indigni ties to which drunkards' wives are subjected. Then he whipped her un mercifully. She parted from him and wont home. Alter a time he icform ed promised everything required, if she would agn n ieturn to her own house. Sh di Iso < n!y to be deceived, disgravd and maltreated a second time. 'Hen she was divorced, and Rome ? Georgia, Saturday, June 28, 1873. left him to his fate, y&fice that time he has gone rapicJTy down the road to rain, abandoned by every relative and j friend. His mother died of a broken ' heart, and when her sweet face was laid under the dust, he lost his last friend. Now the jail is more frequently Dick’s lodging than any other place.” j “Yes; but he has tried lately to re-' form as Sallie tells me; his relatives ’ should come to his rescue.” ) “There is no confidence to be placed j in him; they do not believe him. He has drunk until it has become a dis ease, and now I do not think he is re sponsible, for he cannot resist the burning thirst for liquor. A year’s residence in an Inebriate Asylum, is all the hope I see for him, and this his relatives are unwilling to pay for.” “It is a shame!” said Alice indigo nantly, “especially after they learned ■» him to love the drink which has ruin ed him. Uncle, lam going to send him to an asylum myself.” “My dear, he is nothing to you, and besides you have lavished your money upon objects of charity, until you are poor. You have little now besides this mansion.” “That makes no difference. I do not live to hoard up money, I have made money, and I can make it again, and besides I am weary of this hum drum, useless existence. lam going out into the world, where I can be of some use. The dry has past when I will either be idle o ' -olish enouglF not to exert myself, ■ ausc some to do so ! “But Alice, your father—you prom ised him that the name of Gray should never appear upon a play-bill. Will you disregard that promise?” “I will keep it to the letter, as I have done, however unjust; but to-morrow I will leave the mansion, take Mrs. Waters to the Lunatic Asylum, leave her children here with Mrs. Junes and yourself and go out to make money to support these miserable. l victims of the liquor traffic.” “Why do you take so much upon yourself? You women are not to blame for the curses of liquor.” “No, but we are the sufferers. Had women a voice in the lawmaking, there would be no such objects of pity and misery as those five beings up stairs.. I tell you, liquor would be abolished!" “Yes. I suppose it would,” said her Uncle thoughtfully, “and justice to them demands that it should be. But I advise you to let alone that sot, Dick Ball; he is beyond all hope, and then his relatives would be angry if yon meddled in the affair.' “I'll try nevertheless.” said Alice, as she left her companion, and seated herself at the harp. For an hour she played on uninterruptedly, sometime# accompanying the instrument with her voice, and as Dr. Hawthorne sat and listened to tin entrancing melody he cease.t to wonder that pride of posi tion and wealth failed to ke< p the i all desire to remonstrate with her on the the subject, for he felt that it •• U a» Ii t li*stlny,” and that’ she could no more resist it than the nightingale could resist the impulse to flood ’the world with its harmony; and while we have the Doc tor lost in an ecstasy of enjoyment,and half hjanung, half admiring his neiee for-her determination and decision of character, let us imagine a month has passed, ami take a glance at the hero of our story, Edward Clayton. But dear reader, pray bear in nrfnd that these are facts, only they are glossed over, and some of the worst points hidden, in order to make them presentable. Talk about romance—l ,-J^- 7^afel.; have never read such romances as I have seen. Life is better than imagi | nation; “truth is stranger than fiction;” ■ then why adopt the latter ? Day by day the press teems with with events so startling that after all the strange things which a life-time of wonders has displayed, we are made to ’exclaim ■ with astonishment: “How strange ! ’ After a residence of several weeks in J the city where he to study his j his profession, Edgar joined a debating I society. At its meetings, he soon be came the centre of attraction. bore off the honors in several contests, and finally, when it had been agreed that some peculiar mark of favor should be ; paid the victor in the debate upon some question pertaining to their pro- I session, Edward triumphantly claimed the award, and it was unanimously t agreed that the “club ’ should give him a “ball” to which all the elite of the ■ ity should be invited. It was done; . the supper was a marvel of beauty skill and magnificence. Edward wa.- the observed of all He was called upon for a speech and respond ed in a manner that was both credita ble to the society and to himself. The belles of the city vied with each other in their endeavors to do homage to the hero of the occasion, and it would have been peculiarly gratifying to Mrs. Clayton to have witnessed the homage tendered the child of her adoption, and her raising. No collegiate course had ever been meted out to him, and vet this bov, the pupil of. an intelligent iu the face of young mon whose lives had been spent upon the classic “campus,” whose minds had been un der the training of time-honored professors. When the speech was concluded, and the company had ad journed to the sumptuous rooms where the tables were spread, the minister who occupied the most prominent po sition, and who had “asked the bless ing” upon the repast, offered a toast which was quite flattering to the young man’s vanity. Edwaid bowed and made suitable responses, but failed to take up the wine glass which the pas tor had placed for him. With out stretched hand the minister. Dr. Clar ence, held his own goblet, for it to be tipped by that of his young fri nd, as was the custom, but Edward stood blushing and irresolute; his oath upon one side forbidding him to touch the glass—a hundred critical eyes upon the other, scorning him because he did not. Laughter and jest, sneer and n treaty wore employed to induce him to raise the glass, but he stood resolute until the misistcr said: “My son, do not hesitate; ‘a little wine for the stomach's take,' is recom mended by Holy Writ, and although I loathe drunkenness, a> much as any body, lam not on extremes. I think Cod intended us to use ‘everything in moderation. I think I may warn you against fanaticism in this as well as in other things. Had stimulating drinks been in themselves unwholesome,surely the world would have been opposed to them ere this; therefore, up with your glass, and down with your weak fa natical notions about total abstinence!” This speech of the minister was re ceived with repeated showers of ap plause. and with shame and coufus sion written upon his face, Edgar rais ed the proffered glass and lightly sip ped its contents. “Don't mince the matter Clayton,” came from one of his companions, “drink, drink, make him take another glass!” came from various parts of the crowd. “It won t do for lor such a charming youth to be so unsocial, said a lady of reputation and beauty, as she bade him empty his glass and al- FRIEND. low 7 her to refill it. He obeyed, and quickly swallowed the contents of the second glass. In a very short time Edward began to lose his timidity, his ' mind was bright, active and witty, and i before the evenings entertainment was over, he was as Burns has it, ‘•F-u an’ uncoil’ happy !” In this joyful state lie became so pe culiarly witty that another speech was called for—this he gave in the exuber i ance of his delight—in a manner at i ° i once polished, pleasing and pungent, and when it closed amid pbeers and laughter, ho was again toasted by la dies and gentlemen, until his failing powers, warned him that his honor compelled him to retire from the pres ence of the company. He told a chum and friend, of his feelings, and after they had laughed at him, for being so unused to the business of the wine cup, as to be intoxicated by the few glasses he had taken, they carried him I to a room in the nearest hotel, and ' bade him lie down until the effect I should somewhat subside. He did so, ’ and after talking for a time, he fell asleep and was left alone by his com panions, who returned to the ball room, and reported “Mr. Clayton had been called off on urgent business.’’- When Edward awoke next morning, ! it was to a full sense of the shame he had brought upon himself by the hu : miiiating act of becoming intoxicated, !he sv,-ore by all that was sacred, that ' he should never do so again, that he I would never even taste wine, “if he .j”i : i'oF <Io so yithout be'- b r ’>r.g a brute.” He did not say he would un der no consideration, taste the cup of ' intoxication; lie had an “if” in the , <pi jstion, and where there is one, the results have always, sooner or later, ended in evil. He thought of Mrs. i Morton, Alice, and his heart ached when ho reflected upon the deed he i had committed, and he swore, swore with a true purpose, never to “get drunk” again, but he did not say he would never taste the cup of intoxica tion, even then, the thirst was upon j him ! [to be continued.] Drink and Work. “I drink to make me work,” said a young man; to which an old man re-’ plied: “that’s right; drink, audit "'ill make you work! Hearken to me a moment, and 11l tell you something that may do you good. I was once a prosperous farmer. I had a good lov ing wife and two line lads as ever the sun shone on. We had a comfortable home, and lived happily together. But we used to drink ale to make us work. Those two lads I have now i laid in drunkards’ graves. My wife • died broken-hearted, and now lies by her twt> sons. lam seventy .years of : age. Had it not been for the drink, I might now have been an independ ent gentleman; but 1 used to drink to make me work, and mark, it makes me work now. At seventy years of age, I am obliged to work for my daily bread. Drink! drink! and it will make you ’ work.” i A legitimate inference —that a den tists office is a drawing room. I The New York Legislature has pass | cd a local option LUI. , Newport. 11. 1., has elected .a ram i Mavor by a h all majority. Gov. Dix. of New York, has vetoed the Local Prohibition Bill. Glasgow, Mo., has passed a strin- | I gent Sunday liquor ordinance. J Minneapolis, Minn., has elected a i temperance Mayor by 825 majority. A little child was poisoned to death ; with a dose of gin, in.?\t*w York City recently. The Good Templars of Alabama have i ov . r one hundred Lodges and support. a State Lecturer. Neal Low is in England speaking in uvor of Sir- Wilfrid Lawson's Pernas- 1 . ive Prohibitoiw Bill. Number 24- The Dead River Railroad. 1. From an accurate estimate it ap pears that this road is carrying 600,000 passengers, mostly young men down to the condition of “Common Drunk ards.” 2. It is carrying toward destruction brave and noble young men. 3. It has numbered among it vic tims a large proportion of the talent of our country from the Army, Bar, Bench, Congress, Pulpit and every po sition of honor and trust. -1. It squanders annually property amounting to more than $1,500,000,000 A distinguished observer of facts says: “All the crimes on earth do not de stroy so many of the human race, nor alienate so much property as drunk enness, 5. If the families of drunkards aver age five persons, it carries annually untold misery and whetchedness di rect to more than 1,500.000 people, a large proportion of whom are women and children. G. One hundred and thirty thousand places are licensed to sell spirituous liquors in the United States and Ter ritories; 3ii0,000 persons : re employed in these grog-shops. If we add to them the number employed in distill eries and wholesale liquor shops, we shall have at least 500,000 persons employed in sending their fellow-mor tals to premature graves. 7. In the National Beer Congress, at their ninth annual session at New ark, New Jersey, in June, 1869, the president presented statistics showing the total amount of capital employed directly and indirectly in the manu facture of beer to be 8105,000,000, giv ing employment to 56,1363 men. 8. Crime is chiefly the result of drunkenness. Criminals cost the Le.qcs Vy- 9. The liquor traffic sends annually to prison 100,000 persons, reduces . 200,000 children to a state worse than orphanage, sends 60,000 tn drunkards’ graves, and makes 600,000 drunk ards. 10. The people of the United States according to the report of Commission er Wells, swallowed from the counters of retail grog-shops in one year poi son to the value of $1,573,191,856. 11. This terrible business against the laws of God and man is rapidly increasing. 'L’lie luiist L-’risoner. The Montgomery Advertiser says Capt. Villere, a Frenchman, uho was an officer in the Confederate army, in Wheat's bat talion,reached there from Atlanta yester day morning. At the end of the war he was a prisoner,and after his release, a Fed eral soldier attempted to cut the buttons off his coat. This he resented. The sol dier spit in his face, and in the difficulty that followed Villere killed him. For this he was tried and sentenced to close confine ment at Harrisburg, /’a., for five years. This term was,extended over three years by those in authority. When he was finally released, about three weeks ago, lie set out on foot to reach his oM home near Aew Orleans, and got to Atlanta a few days ago. There, some friends raised funds io purchase him a ticket to Mont gomery, and we understand he went to Mobile last night. Hois the last confed erate, and hopes to reach his old home in a day oi two. He is nearly 70 years of age. Louisiana.—Says the Wew Orleans Picayune, Heavy and continuous rains have fallen for tome time past over nearly the entire cotton belt, and beyond doubt the crop is very much injured. ,Tbe grass has gotten such a start that unless clear weath er comes soon the stand will be ruined. As it is, the plants have been stunted, and in many sections of Louisiana the grass is to j high that the cotton plants arc wholly in- I visible. | Several cases of laziness are now in I order. This disease is more generally known as the “spring fever,” and usually attacks i those whose pantaloons become glazed somo I six inches below the middle of the back during the winter season. I Men talk of the idle wind, but the wind is always busy; and like acueeHul farmer, ! whistles at liis work. , I . -■ -» »r ■ — Be temperate in all tilings.