ty alone cursed by the drink evil. Three years ago this last holiday
season we were doing some evangelistic work in a neighboring town, a
mere village of a couple hundred inhabitants. I shall never forget
how the mother of a dejected home cried and pleaded for help from the
ravages of her drunken husband. She said that he had spent all of his
wages, and had made no provision for the home, in furniture, in books
for the children, nor in clothing for them nor for her. She had come
almost to despair, and was blaming God for allowing her little ones to
suffer because of a worthless man. O, the world is full of this sort of
thing to-day, if we only knew the sighs and heartaches and blasted hopes
of those who suffer! In a smoking-car one day a commercial traveler
refused to drink with his old comrades, by saying: "No, I won't drink
with you to-day, boys. The fact is, boys, I have sworn off." He was
taunted and laughed at, and urged to tell what had happened to him. They
said: "If you've quit drinking, something's up; tell us what it is."
"Well, boys," he said, "I will, though I know you will laugh at me; but
I will tell you all the same. I have been a drinking man all my life,
and have kept it up since I was married, as you all know. I love whisky;
it's as sweet in my mouth as sugar, and God only knows how I'll quit it.
For seven years not a day has passed over my head that I didn't have
at least one drink. But I am done. Yesterday I was in Chicago. Down on
South Clark Street a customer of mine keeps a pawnshop in connection
with his business. I called on him, and while I was there a young man of
not more than twenty-five, wearing thread-bare clothes, and looking
as hard as if he had not seen a sober day for a month, came in with a
little package in his hand. Tremblingly he unwrapped it, and handed the
articles to the pawnbroker, saying, 'Give me ten cents.' And, boys, what
do you suppose that package was? A pair of baby's shoes; little things
with the buttons only a trifle soiled, as if they had been worn once
or twice. 'Where did you get them?' asked the pawnbroker. 'Got 'em at
home,' replied the man, who had an intelligent face and the manner of a
gentleman, despite his sad condition. 'My wife bought 'em for our baby.
Give me ten cents for 'em. I want a drink.' 'You had better take those
back to your wife; the baby will need them,' said the pawnbroker. 'No,
she won't..She's lying at home now; she died last night.' As he said