The Lights and Shadows of Real Life Part 62

"Now, let me ask you all seriously, if you do not think that James Bradly owes his rapid downfall, in a great measure, to the fact that Harry Arnold would not pay him a just debt in anything but whiskey?

And against Harry Arnold really your friend, that you are so willing to beggar your wives and children to put money in his till? I only ask the questions. You can answer then at your leisure. So ends my speech."

"You are an insulting fellow, let me tell you!" the grog-shop-keeper said, as he turned away, angrily, and went behind his counter.

The Was.h.i.+ngtonian took no notice of this, but went to Jim Braddock, who stood in a musing att.i.tude near the door, and said--

"You will sign now, won't you, Jim?"

"No, I will not!" was his gruff response.

"I am not going to sign away my liberty for you or anybody else. So long as I live, I'll be a free man."

"That's right, Jim! Huzza for liberty!" shouted his companions.

"Yes, huzza for liberty! say I," responded Braddock, in the effort to rally himself, and shake off the thoughts and feelings that.

Malcom's narrative had conjured up a narrative that proved to be too true a history of his own downfall.

"It was a shame for you to do what you did down at Harry Arnold's,"

Braddock said to the Was.h.i.+ngtonian about half an hour afterwards, meeting him on the street.

"Do what, Jim!"

"Why, rake up all my past history as you did, and insult Harry in his own house into the bargain."

"How did I insult Harry Arnold?"

"By telling about that confounded whiskey-barrel that I have wished a hundred times had been in the bottom of the sea, before it ever fell into my hands."

"I told the truth, didn't I?"

"O yes--it was all true enough, and a great deal too true."

"He owed you a bill?"

"Yes."

"And you wanted your money?"

"Yes."

"But Harry wouldn't pay you in anything but whiskey?"

"No, he would not."

"And so you took a barrel of whiskey, that you did not want, in payment?"

"I did."

"But would much rather have had the money?"

"Of course, I would."

"And yet, you are so exceedingly tender of Harry Arnold's feelings, notwithstanding his agency in your ruin, that you would not have him reminded of his original baseness--or rather his dishonesty in not paying you in money, according to your understanding with him, for your work?"

"I don't see any use in raking up these old things."

"The use is, to enable you to see your folly so clearly as to cause you to abandon it. I am sure you not only see it now, but feel it strongly."

"Well, suppose I do?--what then?"

"Why, sign the pledge, and become a sober man."

"I've made up my mind never to sign a pledge," was the emphatic answer.

"Why?"

"Because, I am determined to live and die a free man. I'll never sign away my liberty. My father was a free man before me, and I will live and die a free man!"

"But you're a slave now."

"It is not true! I am free.--Free to drink, or free to et it alone, as I choose."

"You are mistaken, Jim. You have sold yourself into slavery, and the marks of the chains that still bind you, are upon your body. You are the slave of a vile pa.s.sion that is too strong for your reason."

"I deny it. I can quit drinking if I choose."

"Then why don't you quit?"

"Because I love to drink."

"And love to see your wife's cheek growing paler and paler every day--and your children ragged and neglected?"

"Malcom!"

"I only asked the question, Jim."

"But you know that I don't love to see them in the condition they are."

"And still, you say that you can quit drinking whenever you choose, but will not do so, because you love the taste, or the effect of the liquor, I don't know which?"

Braddock's feelings were a good deal touched, as they had been, ever since Malcom's temperance speech in the grog-shop. He stood silent for some time, and then said--

"I know it's too bad for me to drink as I do, but I will break off."

"You had better sign the pledge then."

"No, I will not do that. As I have told you, I am resolved never to sign away my liberty."