"Mamma," she said one day, "I am going to die. Oh, how sad it will be to leave this beautiful world, and papa, and you, my mamma, and Eddie, and Allie! But," she added, "I am going to the beautiful home of which I was dreaming, to be with Jesus, who loves little children. And then in a little while you and papa will come, and we will live in one of the 'many mansions' which Jesus has gone to prepare. I shall not be long with you here, mamma; but you will come to be with me. Eddie and Allie will be coming too, some day, when G.o.d calls them, and we will all be home together."

Her mother was deeply moved, but endeavored to conceal her emotion from her little daughter.

"My darling must not talk of leaving us; we could not spare our little Mamie. No doubt, dear, but you will get better, now the spring is coming, and soon you will be out with the flowers."

Mrs. Ashton had to endure the agony that an intelligent, loving mother must always experience when an almost idolized child, that she could press to her heart forever, is fading from her. She could see her dear, loving, bright little daughter--who was very precocious, talking more like a girl of ten than one of only five-- slowly, almost imperceptibly, failing every day, and every day becoming more bright and beautiful; but it was the beauty of the flower that was to bloom but for a few hours, and then whither and die away.

One day in the spring, as she was looking at her mother, who was working among her flowers, she began coughing violently; Allie, who had been attending to her household duties, now joining them, stooped down to help her, but as she did so she saw her face was of deathlike pallor, and that the blood was slowly oozing from her mouth, staining her pale lips with its crimson tide.

"Mother! come quickly," she said, as she lifted Mamie in her arms and ran with her into the house. She gently laid her on the sofa, and then wiped the blood from her lips.

Mrs. Ashton, when she reached the sofa, found her heart beating violently; but she resolutely forced back her emotion, so that she might not agitate Mamie. As she took her eldest daughter's place, she whispered: "Go to the garden, dear, and tell your father to run for the doctor. He must make haste, for I am afraid Mamie is dying."

Allie ran for her father, but, though he was there a short time before, he could not now be found. The fact is, the wretched man, who had been working in the vegetable-garden, had been watching all morning for an opportunity to steal away and get a drink.

Finding the coast clear, when Mrs. Ashton and Allie had gone in with Mamie, he, like a truant child stealing away from its parents, glided out on to the sidewalk, and hastily made his way to the nearest groggery.

Allie told her mother her father had disappeared, when the latter requested her to hasten and tell the doctor to come immediately, as the case was very urgent.

The doctor, when he arrived, endeavored to quiet Mrs. Ashton's fears by a.s.suring her there was no immediate danger; "but," he gently continued, "she will not long be with you--two or three days at the longest, and she may not linger that long."

When Eddie came home he went for his father, and found him in Flannigan's groggery with several others who were unfortunates like himself. At the voice of his son, he straightened himself up as well as he could in his intoxicated condition, looking at him with a sort of dazed, stupid stare; but as Eddie went over to him, saying, "Come, father, we want you at home," he took his arm and walked quietly away.

When they arrived at the house, Eddie took him round the back way so as not to disturb the dying child, and after requesting him to be as quiet as possible, as Mamie was seriously ill, he then went in and told his mother his father was safe at home.

Eddie and Allie wished their mother to rest for a time, as they thought if she did not do so the fatigue and worry might result disastrously to her. But she was firm in her resolve not to leave the bedside of her dying child, so that all their solicitations were in vain.

Mrs. Gurney came to remain all night with them, so Eddie and Allie retired. Mrs. Ashton was very grateful for this practical expression of sympathy for this n.o.ble Christian woman. Mamie pa.s.sed the night quietly--not suffering excessive pain, but they concluded she was growing weaker, the end being not far off.

She was peacefully sleeping about five o'clock, and Allie having awakened joined the watchers; she, with the a.s.sistance of Mrs.

Gurney, finally prevailed upon her mother to lie down, and, if possible, s.n.a.t.c.h a little sleep. About six o'clock Mrs. Gurney noticed there was a change for the worse in the little slumberer, and she had just remarked it to Allie, when Mamie languidly opened her large blue eyes--which now shone as if they reflected the light of the heavenly land--"Mamma! Mamma!" she called in a low but very distinct voice.

Allie bent over her and asked, "What is it darling? Mamma has gone to lie down for a little while."

Mamie closed her eyes for a moment, and then opening them, said, "Call her, and call papa and Eddie, for I think I am dying."

Allie quietly left her side to call her mother. Eddie having just arrived glided silently into the room, and then went to call his father. He experienced difficulty in awakening him, who, though he appeared to be in a stupor, no sooner heard that Mamie had asked for him, and that she said she was dying, than he, having dressed, made haste to go to her. When he arrived in the room he eagerly asked his wife, "Is Mamie worse? You had better make haste, Eddie, and run for the doctor."

Mamie looked up as she heard her father's voice. "My own dear papa!" she murmured; and then she continued, "don't go, Eddie; if you do I shall never see you again, for I shall have gone home before you return."

"Papa, Mamma," she said, "each of you give me a hand." Her father taking her right hand and her mother her left, she continued, "Papa, I want you to promise me you will never drink again. I am going to be with Jesus, and when I look down from heaven I want to see my papa good, and not doing anything to make my mamma grieve so, because then I shall grieve too. I know I shall feel so sorry when I am in heaven, if my darling papa is out with the naughty men drinking; for my mamma will come some day to meet me, but the Bible says no drunkard can enter there; so if my papa dies a drunkard I shall never see him again. Oh papa! shall I meet only my mamma there, and will not my papa come too? Shall I look and look for papa, and never find him?"

She paused for breath, looking inquiringly at her father. The effort had evidently taken from her most of her rapidly failing strength, and every individual in the room was sobbing before she had finished speaking.

"G.o.d bless you, my darling!" replied her father, "I will promise never to drink again, and G.o.d helping me, I will keep my promise."

"Kiss me, papa, mamma, all." They each lovingly kissed her, she murmured "thank you for--" but she could say no more, her eyes speaking the grat.i.tude her failing voice could not utter. Her eyes closed for a moment, and then slowly opening, she, turning them upon all, faintly whispered, "Good-bye," and then they closed never to open again to the light of this life. She lingered on as if sleeping quietly with a sweet smile of peace irradiating her face, and sank gently to rest, so gently they could not tell the exact moment of her departure.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.

RICHARD ASHTON MURDEROUSLY ATTACKED--HIS DEATH.

Richard Ashton faithfully kept the promise made to little Mamie; for he never touched nor tasted liquor again. His struggle was a desperate one; but as he was determined, by the help of G.o.d, to conquer, he succeeded. Mr. Gurney again employed him, but in a subordinate position; and though there was subdued sadness in the house, because they missed the prattle of their lost darling-- missed her sunny face and cheery songs--yet even in her death she had left such a benediction that they were still experiencing its blessedness months after she had pa.s.sed away. It was her dying request which had influenced her father to change, and he was truly changed; for not only had he, as we have noticed, conquered his appet.i.te for strong drink, but he had so completely repented of the past as to have become a devoted Christian, and was trusting that through the merits of his crucified Redeemer he would, one day, meet his little daughter in heaven.

But trouble, dark and terrible, was again to visit the home of the Ashtons, and this time it was the poor lost sheep who had lately been gathered by the Good Shepherd into the lower fold, that was to be translated--though by a cruel death--to the green pastures and still waters of the homeland above.

One very dark night as he was returning home from the store, where he had been detained later than usual, having reached the back street on which his house was situated, and when within a short distance of it, as he was pa.s.sing an alley he was suddenly struck a terrific blow on the head, which felled him senseless to the earth. The ruffian who had attacked him was not content with knocking him down, but continued brutally kicking him after he had fallen, and did not desist until his victim was lying still, as though dead.

"I guess that settles the score I have against him," muttered Joe Porter, for he it was who had made the murderous attack. "I'm thinking they'll have a good time finding out who did it. And he'll be some time before he swears against me again. If I only had that young dandy here that took his part I'd settle with him, too. No man ever meddled with me yet without suffering for it, for I hold spite like an Injun, and I'll have satisfaction out of him if I swing for it." Thus muttering to himself he glided off into the darkness.

Eddie, when on his way home a few moments afterwards, saw, by the light of his lantern, a man lying on the sidewalk; and, on closer inspection, what was his surprise and horror to find it was his father. The, latter's face was all covered with blood, and though he seemed to be still insensible, he began to groan as though conscious of pain. Eddie ran to a neighbour's, and procuring the a.s.sistance of a Mr. Thompson, and two grown-up sons, he asked them to kindly carry his father home, while he would run ahead and prepare his mother for the shock which must certainly ensue; for he wisely concluded, if on their entering the house she should come to the door and meet them carrying what would appear to be the lifeless body of her husband--in her present delicate state of health--the effect would be most serious. He broke the news to her as gently as possible, but he had uttered but a very few words when she concluded something alarming had occurred. "Oh, Eddie!"

she exclaimed, as all color forsook her face--leaving it as white as marble--"what has happened? Is your father dead?"

Eddie answered in the negative, but said he had been hurt, though he hoped not seriously. Hearing Mr. Thompson and his sons coming with his father, he ran to meet them; his mother, having by this time mastered her emotion, was now quite calm and prepared for the worst. They bringing him in laid him on the bed, and Mrs. Ashton, immediately getting a towel, began washing the blood off his temple, knowing the water would likely have the effect of restoring him to consciousness. She had not continued it long before he awakened out of his stupor and faintly asked: "Where am I? What has happened?"

Mrs. Ashton replied, "You have been hurt, dear, but lie still, and don't agitate yourself now, for you will know all about it after awhile." He shut his eyes at her request and lay perfectly still.

Eddie, in the meanwhile, had gone for the doctor, and in a few minutes returning with him the latter proceeded to examine Mr.

Ashton. He found him very seriously, if not fatally injured. He had been first struck on the temple by a cane or club. This blow of itself was sufficient to do him very grave injury, but it had been followed by brutal kicks on the prostrate man's body. The doctor p.r.o.nounced two of his ribs broken and his spine seriously injured.

"Will he recover, doctor?" asked Mrs. Ashton. "I would like you to give me your honest opinion as to what you think the result will be."

"We must leave results with G.o.d," Mrs. Ashton. "He has been brutally beaten, and what I fear most is the shock to his nervous system. His const.i.tution was so seriously impaired previous to this attack that I have the gravest fears as to the issue."

He never arose from his bed; though he lingered for several days, and gave his wife and family the sweet consolation of knowing his whole trust was in Christ, through whose merits and intercession he expected to have an abundant entrance into His kingdom. Before he died his ante-mortem statement was taken, when he said he just had a glimpse of the person who struck him, and he believed his a.s.sailant was Joe Porter.

He remained conscious to the last, and the parting with his wife and family was very affecting. He asked Eddie to be faithful to his mother, which he promised to be. "Oh, Ruth," he said, "I have been a very unfaithful husband. Rum has been our curse, but I know you forgive me, darling." He then kissed them each; asking them to meet him in heaven, and in a few moments after quietly departed.

Thus died Richard Ashton, in the flower of his manhood, a victim of the drink curse; for rum had broken his const.i.tution, robbed him of his intellectual vigor, reduced him and his family almost to beggary, and he was finally murdered by one of its vendors. He was endowed by his Maker with a bright intellect and a loving heart. In his early manhood he fell heir to an ample fortune, and was blessed with as good a wife as G.o.d ever gave to man; but rum, "cursed rum," had blighted all his prospects, made life a failure, and was instrumental in bringing him to an untimely grave.

They buried him by the side of little Mamie in the beautiful Bayton cemetery, "Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, to wait the resurrection of the just."

Joe Porter was arrested and tried for the crime, but, as several of his creatures swore he was present in his bar until after ten o'clock that night he was acquitted; though the public believed he was the criminal, and he was despised and shunned by all but the lowest dregs of the populace.

CHAPTER x.x.xIX.

MR. GURNEY SPEAKS HIS MIND--DEATHS OF DR. DALTON AND AUNT DEBIE.

The antis were wild with joy because of their complete triumph; and certainly, looking at the result from their standpoint, they had cause to rejoice, for their victory was far-reaching in its results. It strengthened the opponents of temperance throughout our fair Dominion--yes, beyond its bounds--while it certainly had a depressing effect upon its staunch supporters, for they were well aware the failure would not be attributed to its true source --that is, the bitter opposition it had met with from its unprincipled opponents, the lethargy of many of its pretended friends, and from other causes which we have already mentioned in this book. But it would be published "from Dan to Beersheba" that it had received a fair trial and, after being "weighed in the balance and found wanting," had been spurned from the county with contumely by the intelligent electors.

"I told you it would never succeed," said Bottlesby to Mr. Gurney, just after the repealers had gained their victory. "The fact is, Mr. Gurney, while every one respects you personally, because they know you are an honorable and upright citizen, having the best interests of the public at heart, they think you are a little off on this matter of total prohibition. I tell you such a law will never be successful, because people will not stand to have their private rights invaded in such a manner. No man has a right to dictate to me what I shall eat or drink; and it is because the intelligent electors have thus thought, this tyrannical bill has failed."