Classic Audiobook Collection - Eleven years a drunkard by Thomas Doner ~ Full Audiobook [biography]

Episode Date: August 22, 2023

Eleven years a drunkard by Thomas Doner audiobook. Genre: biography He tells of the shame, misery and pain which alcohol brought on him, and will bring to anyone whosoever be tempted by the pleasant feeling it produces at the time of drinking. It doesn't bring one home to shelter but drives them away. It leads one to forget the evil it brings and tempts one to pursue more for the pleasant feeling it produces. This 'pleasant feeling' produces many murderers in our land. It doesn't push the sufferer to ask for help but to lie about the drinking. Once Satan has a foothold he wants an even tighter grasp. He exhorts - you boys, to learn this lesson, 'If you do not take the first drink, you will not be tempted to take the second.' And if you take the first drink do not take the second or the monster will have done its work and will surely lead you to a third and a fourth and to associate with the inmates of taverns until you are committed to prison, executed in the gallows, a cripple (like Doner) or to a drunkard's grave. Filth, drunkenness, crime and blasphemy, Doner writes, are the rewards for stepping in this Snare of the Devil. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 0 (00:01:02) Chapter 1 (00:08:46) Chapter 2 (00:43:36) Chapter 3 (01:07:13) Chapter 4 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

eleven years a drunkard by thomas stoner preface kind friends being deprived of both my arms by whisky i take this method of earning my livelihood by introducing to your honourable note as my past life although chastened and subdued in spirit by the loss and suffering i have borne through intemperance i am thankful to that good being through whose mercy i was saved from dropping into a drunkard's grave to fight against this promoter of crime and misery that has robbed me of my arms until i am called away to that heavenly land where trouble and sorrow never come and where as far as these statements are concerned i am willing to be judged at last thomas donner end to preface chapter one of eleven years are drunkard by thomas donner the sliverbox recording is in the public domain dear friends being degraded and crippled by whisky i think it my duty to try and picture to you the misery and pain i have suffered by intemperance although i do not count myself among the learned and eloquent and being armless yet i cannot but think myself obliged would to God my ability were equal to my good will to do so. I know it is a subject more capaciously handled by others. Nevertheless, I considered as much my duty as his who is the most learned and has two arms, for rum has robbed me of mine, and I have to write this with my mouth.

I will, however, use my utmost endeavors to show you the horrors of this enemy that is fighting against mankind. Now the only mission I have on earth is to do as much as my abilities will allow, keeping others from walking in my footprints. Well do I remember how I began my degraded career. I was with thirteen years of age when I began taking my first drink, the fiery poison that has carried me to such an end. My home is a small town but a short distance from Chicago, on the line of Chicago and Northwestern Railroad, and it was there I commenced the degraded life of a drunkard and followed the crafty windings with a subtle serpent for eleven longed dreary years.

One Saturday afternoon I was sitting upon the fence Which encloses a pasture close to my home Whittling with my jackknife For it was a great pleasure to me when I had my arms To sit and whittle for hours It is a thing for which I cannot account As I am not a Yankee As I sat there not dreaming that whiskey would drag me into the miserable end that it has

I was accosted by an old man who was coming along the road With a fence upon which I was sitting Was close to the road leading to the main main place business street of the town. The old man was coming from the direction of the village, and as he came opposite me, he stepped from the road, and coming over to the fence, pulled out of his pocket what I learned afterward to be a quarter bottle filled with whiskey, and putting it to his lips, drank what he wanted, and then asked me to drink. And to my sorrow, I did not have the courage to say no, but took the bottle and drank. That was my first step

towards destruction. It was but a very short time until I was drunk. I climbed down off the fence, or fell down, rather, for by this time my brain had become dizzy from the poison I had swallowed. I never felt so funny before my life. I sang, I danced, and talked to myself, and imagined myself four times as large as I was. I continued this for some time, I know not how long. When I came to my senses, I was some distance inside the fence, lying on the ground. My shoes were about two rods for me, on one side, and my coat about the same distance on the other. My hat I cannot find. But as it was made a straw, it is probable that some one of the group of cattle that was in the pasture and had a taste for straw ate it. What to do I did not know. I was sick, tired, and hatless. I began to think seriously how I should invent of falsehood to deceive my parents.

I cannot go home as I ought and tell them what I had done, and now I had lost my hat. The devil had tempted me to drink from the bottle, and now he was tempted me to deceive my parents. I went home crying, and when my mother asked me what the matter was, I told her that I was sick and had lost my hat. She asked if I was very sick and how I happened to lose my hat. If I had had only the courage to tell the truth, I might have been saved from a drunkard's life of pain, misery, and shame. But no, Satan had a foothold and wanted a stronger one, and so tempted me to a base lie. I told her that I had been down to the covert bathing and thought i had taken cold and while on my way home i had met a freight train and as a train was passing my hat was blown off hurled beneath the wheels and torn to pieces i then went to bed but could not sleep just beginning the degraded life of a drunkard

after lying awake for some time i fell into a troubled sleep to dream the horrible dreams of a half-distracted liar oh would it have not been better for me to have died before i awoke from that my first drunken sleep than to be left on this earth to leave a life of sin and shame. I am sure you will not blame me for wishing I had died in my youth. When you hear of the shame, misery, and pain that whiskey has heaped upon me, and will heap upon anyone who is so weak and blind as to be tempted by the pleasant feeling it produces at the time of drinking. Sunday arose with a headache, such as I have felt a thousand times since. I did not eat any breakfast, and when noon came I could heap but very little. I felt thankful when night came, for I was tired and sleepy and sick at heart. My conscious kept reminding me of the shameful deeds that I knew I was guilty of, and I longed to hide my face in

the darkness of my chamber, to give a pose to my distracted mind. Thus I learned a drunkard's first lesson, which the murder of the thief and a large number of paupers of our land will tell you was the beginning of their downfall. Oh, if I had stopped when I had learned this lesson, I might have been a man today, instead of the poor, armless wretch that I am. But alas, I do not, for in a few days I forgot how I lost my hat, and how I deceived my parents. Oh, yes, I forgot the sins and shame the poison had brought upon me, but the pleasant feeling it produced I cannot forget. For such is the nature of this poison, it leads you to forget the evil it brings, and tempts you to drink more, for the pleasant feeling it produces.

This feeling is what makes so many murders in our land. the feeling of just one glass of whiskey. For if you do not take the first drink, you will not be tempted to take the second. Oh boys, I exhort you never learn this lesson. If you do, you will certainly be tempted to learn a harder one. It is simple, but it is a step that tempts many a noble-hearted boy, onto destruction.

If you have taken the first drink of this fire liquid, do not take a second, for if you do, you will be tempted to take the third and the fourth and so on, until you become a drunkard and commit some crime, for which you may be executed on the gallows, or sent to prison, or if you are saved from this, you may drop into a drunkard's grave, or become a lunatic or a cripple for life as I have. But boys, you need not come to this. You need not become lunatics, nor cripples, nor need you be dragged down to the drunkard's graves if you will but take the advice

of one who knows the horrors and has felt the pains of this poison. Let whiskey alone, if you have not. not tasted it, keep it as far from your lips as you would a dose of strychnine. If you ever have tasted it and never tasted again, and if you live to be aged men, you and your children will bless the day you follow the advice of these lines. Only a few weeks after I had taken the first step toward my own destruction, I longed to sit for hours in some filthy saloon and talk with the inmates. I enjoy their wild and reckless mode of life.

If anyone had told me, then, that whiskey would drag me to the end that it has, I would have laughed and said I should not drink enough to become a drunkard. What I saw men staggering about under the influence of this filthy poison, I would think how foolish they were to drink so much. But I have learned since, by my own experience, that it is the devil that tempts you to drink more and more until he gets you in his strong grasp, and then you were lost,

and you were liable to eternal punishment in the flames of hell, if you were not saved by a miracle as I was. end of chapter i chapter two of eleven years a drunkard by thomas donner this liver-box recording is in the public domain now i will tell you how i took my second step my first drink as i have told you was given me by an old man but my second i took myself One day, not long after I had taken the drunkard's first step, I was sitting in one of the saloons of the town, watching the wild freaks of the intoxicated crowd, when one of my schoolmates stepped up to me and asked if I would not like to go to the farm with him. His father had been a farmer, but had least the farmer was now living in town. It being but a short distance from town, I expressed my willingness to go and stepped outside the door. Here Satan tempted me, and I expressed my desire to purchase a bottle of whiskey.

He, knowing as little of the effects of this poison as myself, did not object. So I stepped into the saloon, pursed a pint, bottle filled with whiskey, and as I saw the men smoking cigars, and liked the looks of them, I bought a few, then we started. When we were out of town, we stopped and drank, and of course each lit a cigar and kept up quite a smoke until we were within a few rods of the house. When we threw away what remained unburnt of our cigars, and I, having the bottle tucked away under my coat, pulled it out and drank. Then I handed the bottle to my companion, who followed my example, and swallowed a large dose of the filthy contents. He handed back the bottle, and I tucked

it under my coat again, and we walked up to the house. By this time we are becoming quite noisy and attracted to the attention of the housewife, who came out and asked us what we wanted. My companion told her he had a message from Mr. G. She said that he was not at home, but she expected he soon would be. well we talked a while about this thing and that and i have thought since that if she did not know we were drunk she certainly must have thought we were crazy for after she went into the house she would look out of the window occasionally as if she did not know whether we were sane or not our last drink was fast telling on us and i having sense enough to see that something was wrong took my companion by the arm and told him we had better go over to the bar and wait till mr g came his tongue by this time was almost uncontrollable and he made no reply, but followed my steps, which were something like a Virginia rail fence. To the barn, where we met Jimmy, Mr. G's son, feeding the hogs. Being still under the influence of whiskey, I conceived it would be a fine idea to have a ride on the black pig's back.

Jimmy thought it would be a fine idea, too, so I climbed over into the pen succeeded in seating myself on the black pig's back, and began using my heels as spurs, when all of a sudden the pigs started, and through the effects of the poison I had drank and the quick, movement of the pig, I was thrown backward into a trough filled with swill. My companion, who, in the meantime, had come to the conclusion that he would take a lesson the art of haul riding, had climbed to the top of the fence, and his head being the heaviest part of him about that time, fell over into the mud and did not have ambition enough to get up again. I, being busy trying to manage my black pig, cannot spare time, to raise him out of the mud, so he was left to the mercy of the pigs.

after considerable running i succeeded in catching my steed again and this time in order not to fall off i took a firm hold of the hogs ears before i urged him to go accordingly he did not get me off as before but dashed round the pen at breakneck speed running over my companion four or five times and finally brought up in one corner of the pen this was rare sport but as every drop of this fire liquid brings evil to the consumer so the evil of the evil of the evil effects of what we had drank must come, and did come. For as I was sitting on the pig's back, endeavouring with all my strength to get him in motion, I was stunned by a heavy blow on the head, and I'm partly recovering and looking around I beheld what I then took to be some kind of wild demon. But I learned afterward that it was none other than the woman we had been talking to up at the house, with a heavy club raised above her head in the set of striking me again, screaming at the top of her voice that I was killing her hog.

after she had struck me four or five pretty heavy blows and broken my bottle in the affray i succeeded in climbing over the fence and getting out of the range of the old lady's weapon though somewhat bruised and minus my whisky and now came my companion's turn to feel the weight of the old lady's club seeing him huddled up in one corner of the pen she supposed he was hiding from her so she fell to and beat him shamefully before he fully realized what was going on but he finally made his escape by falling over the fence as the old lady had found out by this time that we were drunk for as she walked to the house she kept muttering to herself that she would tell her mother's the next time she went to town that we had been drinking on looking around i beheld my companion staggering down through the pasture that lay off to one side of the pig-pen and thinking he was bent on some mischief i started after him at the same time hailing him and asking him where he was going he made no reply but on hearing my voice he looked round and saw me coming toward him when he quickened his pace to a run but did not take many steps before he fell down i staggered up to where he lay and found that he was crying i asked him what was the matter with him and where he was going he said that mrs g had nearly killed him and he was going to drown himself in the old well he seemed determined to drown himself and i was determined he should not so after a great deal of jangling and a little perseverance i succeeded in persuading him at his time had not come yet and led him back to the barn not being in as good condition to walk home as i was i left him in charge of jimmy and started off alone with one of my eyes considerably closed by the blows from the old ladies club i was not far from the house when fatigue and the effects of whisky and my cigars overcame me and i was compelled to stretch myself out upon the sod

my head hardly touched the ground before i was asleep and as i lay there a miserable little drunkard i dreamed i was an angel in heaven sitting beside a lovely fountain the water which was of a pure golden colour welled up among the flowers which clustered closely about it and i was drinking from a goblet of pure gold filled with the refreshing water from the fountain oh that was the happiest dream in my life and imagined my surprise and shame when i awoke from that happy dream and found myself lying by the road and my clothes bespeered with mud it was raining very hard i sat up and gazed around me bewildered and almost helpless my hands and feet were benumbed with cold and i could not but cry when i passed my hand to my face and felt by swollen eyes i said then that i would never drink whisky again and started a poor forlorn figure on my way home the storm had been gradually abating until the sun tore aside the last black cloud and sent a lovely gleam across the country just as i reached the outskirts of the town then i began to think about drying my clothes for i could not go home in such a state as i was in i seated myself on an old log that lay by the roadside in the bright sunshine and with my jack-knife began scraping the mud off my clothes i began to whistle the old familiar familiar air of Yankee Doodle and tried to be happy as I went on with my work. But it was a miserable failure, for my head ached and I felt extremely ill.

I sat there until the sun went down, and, after bathing my eye and some water by the roadside, I went down to one of the stores in town and remained there until nine o'clock, that being the hour my parents usually retired. I then went home and went to bed, but not to sleep. The pain in my head continued to increase until it was almost unendurable. in a short time i became thirsty my lips were parched and i could think of nothing but lakes and flowing rivers and to the clear cool brooks where i had stooped so often to drink toward midnight i arose unable longer to bear such an intensity of thirst and i groped about until i found the water-pail when i drank two or three glasses of its contents which afforded but momentary relief for by the time i reached my room again the same burning desire for drink the same tormenting thirst had returned it was even worse than before and the pain in my head was still increasing oh the memory of that night's terrible suffering will follow me to the grave

at length morning came but i felt no better and it was found necessary to send for a physician by this time i had become very faint and weak when the physician came he felt my pulse and asking me several questions in relation to my swollen eye and how i felt in general he turned around to my father and i heard him say he thought the young rascal had been drinking, but was not in a dangerous condition at present. As they started downstairs, I heard my father sigh and say, I am very sorry. That is the last thing I remember. From that time I was unconscious and remained in that condition many days. When consciousness returned, I tried in vain to raise myself from the bed. It was some time before I could collect my thoughts,

but presently the truth began to break upon me, that I had been crazed by the bottle of the body. of whiskey I had bought. I turned my head upon my pillow and wet bitterly. After this I recovered rapidly, and in five weeks I was out again to be tempted to take another step toward my miserable end by this fiery fiend, but not without receiving repeated warnings from my mother, for every time I left the house she would charge me to keep away from the billiard saloons. For a time I did avoid them, but not long. Satan was hard at work, and soon I forgot how I had kept my companion from taking his own life, and how this fiery liquid had already carried

me to the brink of the grave. I forgot my solemn promise to my parents, never to taste strong drink again. Ah, yes, I soon forgot. It was whiskey which caused the sickness that confined me to my bed for weeks, and so I drank more of this poison, which finally robbed me of my arms. Remember, boys, that the devil is lurking about at all times, casting his snares before men as he struggles on through life and if you will but look around you you cannot but see that whiskey is this demon in disguise but men do not see this and if they do they will not acknowledge it until they are dragged by him to some miserable end or become confirmed drunkards to be forsaken by the whole world it is then that the heart of man turns instinctively to his maker in prosperity and when there is nothing to injure him he remembers him not but place him in the midst of dangers

cut off from human aid, let the drunkard's grave open up before him, as it did before me, then it is that the scoffer and unbeliever turns to God, feeling that there is no other hope, refuge, or safety, than his protecting arm. Shortly after my sickness, my companion called to see me, and thanked me for saving his life, for he said he would have certainly thrown himself into the well, but had not saved him, as he did not realize what he was doing. But he, like me, forgot the evils of this poison, and sank early into a drunkard's grave. Oh, boys, ought this not to have been a sufficient warning for me to throw down the filthy cup, but alas, I did not, but grasp it firmer and firmer until it ruined me. It will ruin you

too, boys, if you tamper with it. After this I went to work in town, and would work faithfully all day until night. Then I would go home eat my supper and start off to some low saloons to feed myself before one of the tables or step up to the bar and call for something to drink. I would then challenge someone to play a game of billiars. Those degraded places being always filled with poor miserable wretches throwing themselves into the snares of Satan. It was no task to get some one of them to join me in a game. At the end of each game, I, or some of my companions, would call for a drought with a fiery demon that has ruined so many. I continued this for some time.

At length I got an idea that I must become a soldier. Being large of my age, I was accepted and enrolled as a man. a private and company g hundred and forty-first regiment of illinois volunteers at the age of fourteen years there as well as at home saw the terrible work of this fiend we had not been enrolled more than three weeks when one day as i stood in the ranks going through with the exercises i was felled to earth by a heavy blow in my head on looking around to ascertain why i should receive such harsh treatment i beheld the man who stood next to me in the ranks about ten rods off running at headlong speed our drill-master seeing that something was wrong ordered several men to follow him but they did not overtake him until he had run himself out of breath and fallen to the earth exhausted on examination it was found that he was dying of delirium tremens and by inquiry it was ascertained that he had been drinking hard for some time previous to this shortly afterward i chanced to get in conversation with one of his friends who informed me he had once been a well-to-do farmer but began to drink and followed the cup until he lost his farm and drove his broken-hearted wife to the poor house go where i might i would be sure to see this alcoholic fiend dragging his victims to perdition not long after the poor fellow above mentioned died we were ordered to move to columbus kentucky almost the first sight that met my eyes after we had landed was the form of a dying man and on inquiry i learned that he too was dying of delirium tremence

the same day a young man of my own company took his own life while under the influence of whisky he had been in a state of intoxication from the time we left chicago until we arrived in columbus that being about four days before we got aboard the car he had his canteen filled with misky and when it was emptied he would get it filled at some station where the train stopped for fuel and water as his supply had become exhausted by the time we had reached columbus he stepped into a saloon to get a fresh supply He succeeded in getting his canteen filled, and was in the act of drinking from a tumbler when our captain walked in at the door. As there was the law prohibiting the sale of strong drinked to soldiers at that time, he struck the glass, spilling the contents in the poor fellow's face. The captain was angry and some pretty hot words ensued when he told the captain that he, the captain, should never do that again. As he was leaving the saloon, the captain struck him in the face. To this he showed no resentment, walked out of the saloon. As he was crossing the road, going to the river, he was met by a first lieutenant, and informed him that he was going to drown himself, but did not tell him

what had happened in the saloon. The lieutenant, seeing that he was intoxicated, supposed, of course, that he was jesting and said nothing, but laughed in passing on entered the saloon where the captain still remained. There he learned what had happened, and remembering the young man's words as he crossed the road, started after him. But he was something to be. distance from shore by the time the officer came up. As he did so, he noticed the young man's watch lying on the ground, and picking it up, said to him that if he was going to drown himself, he would keep the watch. This, as I heard him say afterward, was said through a joke, for he never had the slightest

idea that the fellow would take his own life. When the young man had reached the middle of the Mississippi River, he shouted to the men who stood on the bank to send his watch to his wife, who was living in Elgin, Illinois at time, and keep the money which was in his pocket. He then threw up his hands and sunk into a watery grave. This was not a lesson sufficient to move me to throw down the filthy cup. In a few days I forgot how this young man allowed strong drink to tempt him on until he forsook his young wife and all his loving friends at home and deliberately took his own life. As I cannot get whiskey with my uniform on, I would dress in citizens' clothes and in this way myself, and my three

companions managed to keep ourselves pretty well supplied for about two months. One night as I was returning from town with four canteens filled with whiskey, which the boys had sent me after, about eight o'clock in the evening the wind began to blow very hard, and it grew so dark I feared I would be unable to find my way back to camp. It was about ten o'clock when I started back, and I had not gone but a short distance when it began to rain very hard, and the flashing of the lightning nearly blinded me. I had partaken pretty freely the contents of my own canteen. which caused me to stagger from one side of the road to the other as i trudged on with my load of poison i began to think i must be somewhere in the neighbourhood of camp and stopped and looked around i could see no light nor could i hear a sound except the wind sighing among the trees i was at a loss how to proceed for i knew that i had walked far enough to reach camp if i had kept on the right direction i stooped to feel the ground with my hand for i should know by the feeling that i had to feel the feeling

whether I was on the road or not, but my head being rather heavy from the whiskey I had drank, I fell over into the mud, and being pretty well loaded with canteens, I could not get up for some time. In my struggle I lost my hat, and I cannot find it again. I did not know which way to turn, for I did not know where I was. But I knew that I could stand there, in the rain all night, so I struck out through the woods, and soon came to the clearing, over which I soon passed, and soon felt, myself in the woods again. I stopped looking up at the tall trees to see if I could tell by them where I was, but it was to no purpose I was lost, so I started on again, but not until I had

taken another drink out of my canteen. I had not walked far when I heard the word of command ring loud and clear, halt. Then the truth flashed upon my mind. I had passed the camp in some way, and was now out at the picket line. This was one of the pickets who ordered me to halt, and I did halt, and dropped to the ground most lively. I knew there were no old soldiers in town, and as a new recruit would shoot at his own shadow, I considered policy to hug Mother Earth as closely as possible. When I dropped to the ground, my canteens made considerable noise by striking together,

and the guard again shouted, halt! At the same time I heard the click of his rifle. I made no answer but lay flat on the ground. The next challenge was, Who comes there? Still I made no reply but lay closer. I thought each particular hand. hair stood on end, for I expected every minute that he would walk over to where I lay and either

shoot me or drive his bayonet through my body. I was sure he knew where I lay, but perhaps he did not, for he did not come near me. He very likely thought I had skulked off through the bushes. What his thoughts were I am not now prepared to say, but I am prepared to say that I never spent a more miserable night. I lay there shivering with fear until daylight, when, on looking around, I was horrified to find myself lying beside the remains of a dead body. There was nothing left but the skeleton, a few old garments and a pair of old shoes. I soon found that I was outside the picket line. I knew it would be hard to get in without the counter sign,

but I walked directly up to the guard, told him of my night of misery, how I went to town and lost my way on the return, and I also informed him of the skeleton out in the bushes. He said he would tell the officer of the guard about the skeleton, but my request to get over the line, as may be readily supposed, was entirely disregarded. After keeping me in suspense for some time, asking me all kinds of questions, he told me I cannot get over the line without the counter sign. I gave him a drink out of my canteen. Still, he would not let me go in. It was then I felt forsaken of the whole world.

My clothes were soaking wet. I was sick, and my eyes were swollen almost shut, for I had not slept any that night. Oh, boys, if you have never been placed in such a situation, you cannot comprehend the trials and misery, a poor young drunkard is subject to. I sat down and wept most bitterly, and my thoughts wandered back to my dear old home. As I sat there weeping, I was hailed by the officer of the guard, who came up riding a spirited black horse. "'Hallow's young man,' said he, "'you look as if you'd been out through a pretty hard campaign.

I told him my story as straight as I could, and after I had given him a drink out of my canteen, he ordered the guard to let me pass. I was sick and worn out, but I succeeded at length in reaching camp, where I related my story for the third time, and after delivering my cargo to the owners, I went to my tent and lay down to rest my weary limbs. Soon after I had stretched myself out on my bunk I was asleep. It was nearly dark when I awoke. I arose but was so weak I could hardly stand.

I tried to eat, but it was a failure. I could not taste food. I was compelled to go to bed again, and through the night I suffered everything but death. Next morning I felt worse. My partner summoned me to the regimental physician. He said I had caught cold and the typhoid fever had set in, that I must be removed to the hospital.

There too I saw the horrors of whiskey. I had not been an inmate, but a few days when one afternoon I was awakened from a deep sleep by heavy groans, and on looking around I beheld the form of a young man lying on the next couch to mine. I learned by inquiry that he was a private in an Illinois regiment and had been drinking for several days, and this day got into a quarrel with some of the citizens in a downtown saloon, when one of them stabbed him six times in the body. While the doctors were examining his wounds, I saw four of them. They were on his chest, and it was a shocking sight to see those horrible gashes which whiskey had brought upon this unfortunate young man.

After the doctors had finished their examination, they told him it was impossible for him to be. recover he began to weep and asked to see his mother the doctors learned from him his mother's address and telegraphed her to come if she wished to see her boy alive it was then this poor wretch turned to god for help but when he was drinking this filthy poison he despised and rejected him but now that he knew there was no human aid that could save him from dropping into a drunkard's grave he prayed god to save his life but it was too late the monster had already done his work and he must die in three days his mother arrived now when i think of her as she entered the ward where he lay a stooped old lady with snow-white hair and eyes red and swollen by weeping it recalls memories of a scene more mournful and affecting than any language can portray i have seen mothers kissing for the last time the dead faces of their children i have seen them looking down into the grave as the earth fell with a dull sound upon their coffins hiding them from their eyes eyes forever but never have i seen an exhibition of such intense unmeasured and unbounded grief as when this poor mother was told by her son that whisky had placed him there on that couch of pain she tore her hair and kept screaming that she would not care so much if it had not been whisky which had caused his death the night after her arrival the poor soul passed away as he lay there cold and still the poor mother flung her arms around his body and nestled her gray head upon his bowels her gray head upon his book him. She lay there and would not heed anyone, but kept moaning,

My boy, my boy, Whiskey has killed my boy. The nurse took her by her arm, and tried to persuade her to come away, but she only clung the closer to her dead boy. She remained in this condition about two hours, when the nurse succeeded in getting her hands unclasped. How piteously, then, did she beg that she might remain beside her dear boy? Oh, mercy, mercy, she would cry, falling on her knee. and tearing her hair. Why did not my boy die in his infancy to be saved from this disgraceful end? The body was prepared and placed in a coffin to be sent home,

and as they bore him away, her only sorrow seemed to be that he had died a drunkard. As she followed the ambulance to the boat, I could hear that mournful cry come back, that whiskey had killed her boy. I heard afterward that she had kept up that cry until she had reached home. After he had been interred in a churchyard, she was always talking of him, and how whiskey had led him astray. Sometimes she would talk to him as if he were actually sitting beside her. Only what absorbed in that illusion or asleep did she have a moment's peace afterward,

until she died at length of a broken heart and was born to her last resting place beside her son. Thus you see, boys, that whiskey does not stop at dragging its consumer into a drunkard's grave, but will heap grief upon your father's mother, sisters, brothers, and friends. After I had lain on my bed for about four weeks, I recovered sufficiently to arise and dress myself. When I had been taken to the hospital, my form was round and plump. I stood erect, and if I do say it, I presented a picture of strength and elegance, but now when I was raised from my sickbed, by the hand of God, I was but a shadow of my former self. My face had become ghastly and haggard.

my once straight and active form was bowed down as if bearing the weight of a hundred years. As I sat crouched in one corner of the wardroom, I am certain my own mother would not have recognized me had she been there. I remained in that condition for several weeks, almost entirely hopeless. I could not eat. I was without appetite. The head physician, seeing that I was not likely to recover if I remained there, but cured my discharge, and I started a walking skeleton bound for home. at the end of three days i stepped from the cars in my native village my heart overflowed with happiness when i looked around and found myself surrounded by familiar scenes and in the midst of old friends once more when i entered my father's house my parents did not recognize me when i told them who i was my mother was so overcome with joy she was unable to speak my sisters embraced me and with tears flowing down their cheeks hung on my neck but i draw a veil over a scene which can be better imagined than described when the violence of their emotion had subsided to a sacred joy and when we gathered around the fire which cast a glow of comfort over the room i related all that happened to me while soldier

i told how i had gone to town for the brandy and got lost on my way back how i had strayed outside the picket line about the skeleton and my sickness then my mother fell upon her knees reminding me of the sorrows and trouble which whisky had already brought upon me and begged me never to taste it again weeping bitterly i promised solemnly that i would never raise that filthy cup to my lips again the following morning i went to chicago on business pertaining to my pay i started in company with several acquaintances who had also business which led them to the great metropolis of the western country as i sat in the coach which was bearing me quickly on to my destination I thought of the solemn promise to my parents the night before. As soon as the train stopped, I stepped from the platform, and in an instant I was abroad a passing street car. I sought out my place of business, and having finished, with it I was at liberty to go where I chose. I walked around the city, passing from one street to another. The fiend tempted me all the time, but I thought of my promise, and would not yield for some time.

When, as I was going by a saloon, I stopped by the door, and after battling with my conscience for some time, I walked into the saloon, stepped up to the bar and swallowed the drop of brandy. Now that I had tasted the filthy stuff and broken my promise, it was easy for me to drink again and again, until I finally became intoxicated, going into every saloon I came to, breaking the peace until I was arrested by a policeman and led to prison. There is a room in the prison known as the bummer cell, and into this room I was forced to go. here the sight which meant my eyes was shocking it ought to have been a warning sufficient to move me to throw down the poisonous cup but alas it was not in this cell i found all characters classes conditions and ages drunkers brawlers rioters boys and men some well-dressed some on their first spree well-de-do merchants even respectable citizens with men crazed by rum or yelling with delirium tremens making a pandemonium not found outside of a city prison

here is found the reeking atmosphere of vice and blasphemy and strong drink is the mother of it all my attention was attracted by voices in an adjoining room separated from the bummer cell by an open great work of iron bars and on looking through the opening between the bars i beheld a throng of dirty drunken women who seem to be lost to all natural feeling and all sense of shame drunken debased women and young girls packed together reeking with filth and surrounded by a poisonous atmosphere the decencies of life were abandoned and blasts me and riboltock fill the place i was compelled to remain shut up in this place until next morning when the inmates had become sober i began more from curiosity than anything else to ask my companions what their charges were when i heard all their degraded tales through i could find but one man and twenty-four of us who could say that strong drink had not led him to that dungeon the women i questioned in like manner and the women i questioned in like manner and they likewise confessed that rum had led them thither and to still greater shame and crime. I was struck with sorrow when I beheld the bitter tears of those unfortunate wretches who had been led astray by strong drink. Hopeless indeed seems the condition of fallen women.

Men can reform. Society welcomes them back to the path of virtue. A veil is cast over their conduct and their vows of amendment are accepted, and their promises to reform are hailed with great delight. But alas, poor women, who have been tempted to sin by run, for them there are no calls to come home, no sheltering arm, no acceptance of confessions and promises to amend. We may call them the hopeless class.

For all others we have hope. The drunken man can throw down the filthy cup and reform. He can take his place again in society and be welcomed back. But poor women, after she once becomes debased by this fiery liquid, there seems to be no space for repentance. For her there is no hope and no prayer. How seldom we attempt to reach and rescue her. For her there is no refuge.

About ten o'clock I was taken before the judge, but was acquitted on the ground that I was a soldier and consequently cannot be detained. I did not tell that I had been discharged. If I had, I am of the opinion that I should have been compelled to break stones for a period or pay a fine. After promising the judge that I would not get drunk again,

i sat down on a bench to witness the shame and sorrow of the other poor wretches who were led to justice there was one cold-blooded heartless villain who was brought up for beating his wife i learned afterward that he was a noted pugilist of the city burly brazen and strong this notorious man had pummeled his wife's face to a jelly and when asked why he did it could only say that he was drunk and did not know what he was about the sobs and cries of his poor wife so interrupted the judge that it was difficult for him to proceed for some time her story is told in a single line her husband is a drunkard and she is compelled to take in washing to keep herself and child from starving she was asked where her child then was she said that the previous night when the officers came and led her away she had left the little girl at home as she expected to be back in a short time an officer was detailed immediately to go after the child and i went with him we walked two blocks and turned into an alley went to the rear of an old building what she called her home oh dear reader may god keep you from beholding such a sight as met my eyes when i entered that filthy room it was a single room about ten feet square with a fire a portion of an old bedstead occupied one corner in a broken tick partly filled with straw with a dirty tattered pillow on which were stains of blood lay on the floor upon that old tick was a little child sitting pale and emaciated every bone in its warm frame pressing visibly against a discoloured skin and on its face that miserable look which suffering alone imprints on youthful faces making them look prematurely old the child was almost entirely destitute of clothing and yet the day was cold and piercing winds came through the cracks between the boards and through the broken windows a wash-tub a chair and an old table composed the furniture. On the table lay a few burnt and moldy crusts from which the crumbs

had been neatly nibed. Thus worketh the cursed fiend. Stealthly it creeps upon mankind and blasts whatever its foul breath touches. Even a father's heart is shorn of love by it, and to satisfy the appetite of its sensational thirst, children whom Christ loved and blessed are left to starve and perish. The poor child told us that her father came home drunk. One night brutally knocked her mother down with a chair and then stamped upon her with his heavy boots because she would not give him a small sum of money which she had saved from her week's earnings to clothe her child. The officer wrapped her up as Bessie could and started back. It being now near the time for the train to start, on which I was to take

my departure, I left them and went to the depot, but not until I had learned the number of the policemen's beat. for i was interested in the case and anxious to know how it ended in about two weeks from this time i again went to the city on business and as i was walking on clark street i met the same officer he informed me that a short time after i had left the poor woman became unconscious and was taken to the hospital where in a few days she died the man was found guilty of manslaughter and sent to the state's prison the little girl was placed in the home of the friendless where she found kind friends and through them obtained a happy western home End of Chapter 2 Chapter 3 of 11 years A drunkard by Thomas Donner This Libravox recording is in the public domain

In a short time I regained my former strength and went to work for the Chicago Northwestern Railroad Company I was ambitious, industrious and determined to rise I did cheerfully and faithfully the work which was allotted to me and soon gained the confidence of my employer I resolved to throw down the intoxicating cup and do no more dishonor to my friends who loved me and prayed for my success.

For a time all went well with me. I bore the name of being as peaceable a boy as there was in town. But that filthy enemy, Rum, was still casting himself performing the path of life. One evening, as I sat in a certain store reading, I was asked by a young man, who also worked for the railroad company, if I would take a walk.

We had not walked far when he pulled a bottle of whiskey out of his pocket and asked me if I would like a drink. Then again I yielded to my weak passions and swallow the draught of the fiery liquid. After that any night I might be seen lounging around some bar-room until twelve or one o'clock, when I would reel out of the saloon, attempting to steady my steps as I walked homeward. At the same time I would join in the loud laughter, shouts and songs of my dissipated companions, who made night hideous with their yells. I would arise in the morning and go to work, my face wearing a jaded and disparated,

look. From this I went into gambling, losing every night and drinking deeply all the while. I was to be found in all cases of brawls, riots, and all disturbances of the peace, a wretched, bloated drunkard. Like all the drunkards, I was a scoffer at all religious things. I knew no Sabbath. I would walk the streets on Sunday, a suffering bloated wretch, and whiskey was tempted me on to wreaking vice and beastliness which no heathen degradation can exceed. the lowest drinking-places the vilest concert saloons and negro minstrels of the lowest order constituted my pastime in two instances while crazed by rum my pockets were picked and now as i sat here my thoughts go back and i curse the hour in which i first set my foot over the threshold of one of those corrupt places of amusement but as thousands must acknowledge to-day i saw my folly too late at that time i could be found where the lanes were the darkest and filthy where the dens were the deepest and foulest, and where the low bar-rooms and dance-houses

were the most numerous. It was to such places as those that whiskey led me, and it was in those places I loved to spend the most of my time. When I was on the street in company with my vulgar companions, I would assault the passerby with insolence and profanity. The brutal, degradated classes were my sole companions. Often have I awakened in the morning, and found myself cold and miserable, lying in the gutter all of my money and part of my clothing gone. But strong drink made me believe that this

did not amount to anything, and the next night I might be found in some low saloon or on the street staggering about almost crazed from the effects of liquor. I and my drunken companions renting the air with our shouts of drunken mirth. Whiskey was fast dragging me down to the lowest degradation that man can reach, and many a young companion have I seen drop into a drunkard's grave. The career of a drunkard is short. Poverty crime, disease, and sufferings, which whiskey brings upon the consumer, soon do their work,

and the drunkard soon goes to prison for some crime committed in a drunken frenzy, or drops dishonored into a drunkard's grave. I carry this drinking galley and carousing career on for two years, spending my money destroying my health and character. I cannot but think that God has a feeble hold on a man who will keep one of these vile dens

and deal out this deadly poison to weak-minded men until their brain becomes crazed by it. When they know that the man who they fill with this promoter of crime is liable in a drunken frenzy to murder his wife or some dear friend. As mentioned before, I carried on the career of a drunken, carousing gambler for two years, at the end of which time I resolved to throw down the drunkard's cup. I went to church, and as I sat in my pew listening to the words of sacred scriptures, spoken by the minister, I realized how great had been my sin against the loving God, and as I walked

home I called to mind the many years. He had lived and suffered for my sake, and I also called to mind the last scenes of his life, in which he suffered an anonymous death on the cross for me and all mankind. Before I had reached home, I was fully determined to resist the temptation of this fiery demon rum, which is spreading crime, misery, and disgrace through our land. I remained at home the rest of that day, and that night I was very happy when I arose from my knees after having prayed to God to help me. The next morning I arose with the light heart and more determined than ever to shun the fiery liquid. I knew that this was a great work which I was going about. I knew it was to prepare an abode for my own soul by driving this enemy from me. My home is a humble one. I inherited a

good constitution and was gifted with energy and a good portion of shrewdness. Although my education was poor. I resolved to seek my fortune in the far west, and in a short time I started for Council Bluffs, Iowa. My mother's prayers and blessings followed me. I was willing to work at anything in which providence should place my way, unmindful what it might be. When I arrived at Council Bluffs, I found that work was scarce, and it was beginning to tell with fearful effect upon all classes. Persons in almost every branch of industry were thrown out of employment, and even the best known and most skillful found it difficult to obtain work. But fortune seemed to be smiling upon me, and as I went forth the next morning, I soon

succeeded in obtaining a situation as brakeman on a freight train. I resolved to be a faithful, honest, and industrious boy, and in a few days I could see that my conductor felt satisfied that all work entrusted to me was performed to the best of my ability. But this did not continue for long. For one day I was sitting in front of the Pacific House. I was invited by an acquaintance to take a walk over to a night. Harry Williams. This is a vile den, known in the bluffs as the red light. Here I found women and

men congregated together, hardened, cruel, and vile, reeking with filth, drunkenness, obscenity, and blasphemy. I became excited in forgetting my promise to my mother when leaving home, and my firm resolve never to taste strong drink again. In a short time I joined a drunken revelry, drinking all kinds of vile liquors and abundance, and carrying on my drunkenness, carousing career with as much unblushing boldness as any brawler rider in that dancehouse. We kept up this drunken spring until 12 o'clock, when the doors were closed when I was turned into the street. I was alone, my companion having gone home about nine o'clock, I staggered about, for some time I knew not where, trying to find my way back to the hotel. I had heard of men being

murdered in the vicinity of the red light, and having a revolver I thought I would be on my guard, so I cocked it and carried it in my hand. I found myself in a patch of sunflowers close to the red light and knew that I was in a noted two-acre patch of sunflowers, where so many robberies and murders had been committed. I began to think of getting out of this dangerous place, but I did not have long to think, for I was seized from behind and hurled to the ground. After I had fallen, I fired my revolve twice in succession, but at random. The next instant I was struck on the head with some kind of heavy instrument. I must have remained unconscious until morning, for the next thing which I can remember, as being awakened by the feeble voice of an old woman who, with trembling fingers, was endeavoring

to wipe the blood from my face. I was faint from suffering and lost the blood. I rose to a sitting posture and looked around me. The sight which met my eyes was sickening. In the place from my head had lain was a pool of clotted blood in which my hat lay torn in pieces. I passed my hand to my pocket and found that I had robbed in my pocketbook and revolver, probably by some ruffians who had lain in wait for me. Sorrowfully I looked at my tattered blood-stained garments. I began to think that a drunken man's prospects were not very fair in that locality. The old lady informed me that as she was going for a pail of water, she found me lying in a narrow path which led through the sunflowers to the well, and seeing that I had been foully dealt with, thought it her duty to help me. She invited me to come and

stay at her house until I recovered. I arose and followed the kind old lady to her cabin. a sad wreck of my formal self. As I followed this woman to her house, I resolved to throw away my life, for I considered it not worth keeping. I felt as if I were in hell. I resolved not to endure my torture longer, and was determined that as soon as night came, I would seek rest beneath the quiet waters of the Missouri River.

As soon as we reached the house, I went to bed, first having washed the blood from my face and haines. Of course, the whole neighborhood was informed of what had happened, and in a short time groups of boys and old men girls and old women thronged around my bed to look at my bruised and bloated face after they had satisfied their curiosity and departed i fell into a heavy sleep and did not wake until dark i then arose and dressed myself and went out Up from the south came great black clouds, and I could hear the low muttering of distant thunder, the wind at one moment sinking to a sullen calm, and the next, dashing its hot breath into my face. It soon began to rain, but I cared very little whether it rained or not, for I was on the brink of madness. I threw myself down under the branches of a clump of trees, unmindful the storm, which was gradually gathering its forces,

until suddenly it burst upon the sunflowers, lashing them into a fury by the terrific gales of wind, and almost blinded me by the flashes of lightning. The whole aspect of nature was so changed as to deprive, even the bravest man of all confidence in himself. It was then that I abandoned the resolve of taking my own life. The refreshing rain cooled my head somewhat, and I began to think about going back to the hotel. I lay under the trees for some time. I did not know for how long. nor do I know how long I would have remained there had not the old lady called to me,

saying that I must stay in the house, or I would catch cold in my head. I told her of my intention to go back to the hotel, but to this she would not listen, but handed me a Bible and told me to read it. I moved closer to the light and opened the Bible, and as I looked over the pages of that holy book, I saw more plainly than ever, before the sufferings and death of Jesus, and was struck with horror and indignation against those perfidious Jews who put our Savior to such a cruel death.

i shuddered when i thought of the terrible crime they had committed but still when i considered i could see that crime which the jews committed in crucifying our saviour only surpasses those which are committed daily all over our land by whisky as i sat there thinking the jews seemed even more excusable and crucifying their messiah than man who tampers with and allows himself to be tempted by god's worst enemy it is true their crime was enormous but they crucified one whom they knew not and they had but they crucified one whom they knew not and and when they knew him they returned confounded, knocking their breasts in sorrow for what they had done. Man has no excuse, for he knows all the sufferings which Christ has endured for him, and the Jews seemed to me to be the most excusable, for if they had known God, they would not have crucified him. It is true the Jews killed his sacred body, but here is a man whose life is a succession of perpetual benefits, drinking this fiery liquid which is no other than the devil in disguise. Thus my thoughts ran until they wandered back to my dear old home.

When I thought of the last promise to my dear old mother that I would shun whiskey, my head dropped on my breast, and covering my face with my hands I wept bitterly. I sat in the position until the clock struck ten. Then I arose, and dashing the tears from my eyes, I resolved to rebupe this evil spirit and lay down my burden of sin. The old lady's husband asked me if I did not wish to retire, to which I answered in the affirmative when he concluded me to my room. I fell upon my knees and tried to pray. I tried to beseech my Heavenly Father to sustain me in my sore extremity, but emotion choked my utterance,

and I could only weep. For at least an hour remained in this position, finding relief only in tears. Then I went to bed, longing for death to come, and kindly relieved me of my agony. The pain in my head was maddening, and the memory of that day's terrible sufferings makes me sick at heart even now. Whether I went to sleep or not, I do not know, but it is evident that I became deranged in the night and escaped unnoticed from the cabin but with part of my clothing on me. Without boots, hat, or coat, I wandered off. I knew not wither until I was picked up by a farmer who, with his two sons, was plowing on his farm, about four miles from Council buffs.

The farmer took me home with him and put me in bed, where I lay partly unconscious for several days. When I had fully regained my consciousness, I was told that when found I could not give any account of myself, so it was thought I was a lunatic who had escaped from some asylum. They also told me that I was very ill when found, and for many days after I lay almost unconscious. After my awakening to consciousness, I improved rapidly under the treatment of the kind-hearted farmer and his wife. And, after a lapse of four weeks I returned to the old lady's cabinet related my sad story. She told me that she employed several men to look for me in the morning after I left her cabin, and after a search of five days it concluded that I committed suicide by jumping into the river,

so the search was abandoned. I now made a firmer resolution than ever to break from this terrible bondage, and went to work for my formal conductor, and condition that I would not drink strong drink. But all the time I had a terrible craving for the filthy poison, and had resumed my work, but a short time with this grim demon again led me, from the righteous path into the filth and slime of the gutter, a loathsome bloated mass of humanity.

Every night it could be found at the red light or some other degraded place. One night about twelve o'clock, as I was returning from one of those corrupt places of amusement, I was met by a ruffian who demanded my money, but I did not feel inclined to give him my money, and so I made no answer. He was a man about my own size, as near as I could judge through the darkness, and I resolved to measure my strength with his before giving up my money. I tried to tell him that I had no money, but he interrupted me with such a flood of curses that I was unable to finish his sentence.

At length he started toward me, and as he did so he produced a club about eighteen inches long from under his coat, and, with a malignant look again demanded my money. Mr. said I, looking a bully in a face, I have no money. I was about to say something further, but he sprang upon me, seizing me by the throat, and had the club raised above my head. When, before the blow descended, I seized to him. him by the collar of his coat and drew him close to me reaching down i caught him by the foot with the other hand and pushing him back he fell to the ground i kept hold of his foot and held it close to my breast and put one foot on his neck he was completely in my power at the beginning of the struggle i was somewhat frightened but nia was angry and my blood seemed coarse through my veins like fire i remembered how i had been beaten in the sunflowers perhaps by the same villain i snatched the club from his hand and struck him blow after blow until he took him to him and took him blow after blow and took him

he cried murder, but I did not stop until my arm ached. Then, with a well-directed kick, which caused the blood to gush from his nostrils, I rolled him over on the ground. Until this time I had been too busy to look around me, but now, as I looked up, I saw two men but a short distance off, walking rapidly tore me. His screams had been heard. My first impulse was to run, but I knew that I was guilty of no wrong whatever, and deserved commendation rather than punishment, and I made up my mind not to run. Let the result be what it might. The man I had beaten, now rose, and stood looking at me, pale with rage. Not a word was uttered until the two men came up. They were dirty, ragged, rough-looking men. I knew by the looks of them they were not friends of mine.

What is the matter, said one, fastening his snakish eyes upon me. I remained silent, doubting the proprietor of staying and abiding by the result. But I had not long to think, for the ruffian recognizing the others as friends sprang toward me saying that he would now have satisfaction, and one of the others stepped forward saying that if I made the least resistance, he would blow my brains out. What could I do but obey? I knew that I was in the power of these three desperate ruffs, so I dropped my hands to my side and remained motionless while they searched my pockets. Oh, it was then I despised myself for my own conduct and almost cursed the day of my birth. After they robbed me, two of the men were willing to let me go my way, but the third wanted satisfaction

for the beating he had received. He was determined to hang me, and started for a rope. Where tofore when I thought of the loss of my friend's social standing reputation, I longed to die, and be freed forever from my misery. But now, when this Ravian returned and tied the rope about my neck, and I seemed to be standing on the brink of eternity, I shuddered at the very thought of that leap in the dark, for I knew that I was not prepared to die.

As I stood there, feelings of unutterable agony overwhelmed me. i saw by this time that the men who came up were under the influence of liquor i began now to realize my danger i looked up to the spangled heavens and thought of the kingdom of glory which god has prepared for me in all mankind beyond those starry depths if we will but follow him i thought of the many and great benefits which god was pleased to confer upon me and all mankind then in the time of danger i could see that the distance between my infinite god and myself was so great that i could not return him the least requital for even the smallest of his favors when i was drinking this filthy poison which had led me hither i despised and rejected god as all men do who drink but now in the time of my tribulation when the graves seemed to be opening up before me. I remember that I was indebted to him upon a thousand accounts and upon a thousand titles. He created me and all mankind in his own image and likeness, and he preserves the world every moment from falling into its original nothingness. He has commanded the sun, moon, and stars to wait upon me. He has given his commandments to the different seasons of the year to furnish

man with all things necessary and all other living creatures he has made subject to man. He has done all this for me, and I in return despised and rejected him for the devil's strongest agent, rum. Thus my thoughts ran until I was awakened, from my reverie by such a shocking expression of blasphemy, as is not decorous to repeat here. Up to this time, the three men were talking in subdued tones and with earnest gestures. One of them acted as if he wanted to let me go. I heard them say that I had done nothing, but what any one of them would have done had he been placed my situation, and that they were some distance from the woods, and it would be morning

before they would be able to find a suitable tree on which to hang me. But his pleadings were in vain, for as I stood in silence trying to think why they did not take a more convenient method of dispatching me, the first villain stepped up to me and commanded me to cross my hands. You need not bind me, said I. I am ready to go anywhere with you. He struck me a heavy blow in the face, and with an oath and a threat, commanded me again to find me. to cross my hands. Perceiving that my resistance would be altogether vain, I crossed my hands and humbly submitted to whatever disposition he wished to make of me.

Thereupon he tied the rope tightly around my wrist and slipped a cord within my elbows and tied it firmly behind me, making it impossible for me to move my hands. One of the ruffians then took the rope and making an awkward noose, placed it around my neck and I was ready to be led to the place of execution. Now then, said one of the ruffians, Where shall we hang him? One proposed a tree that he knew of, but a short distance from there, but his comrade objected saying there was a house close by, and proposed taking me to the grove.

Finally they fixed upon the ladder, and I was ordered to march. All this time I uttered not a word, but I could see that one of them was not in favor of hanging me. We trudged on for about an hour, up hills and down dales, until we came to a clump of tree standing in the center of a large prairie. After tying my ankles, one of them climbed to the top of a small tree and tied a rope to it. When he came down, two of them bent the tree until the top of it touched my head. I was entirely powerless. Hope died within my heart. Surely my time had come. I should never behold the light of another day, never behold the faces of my friends again.

I could never see my mother again, the sweet anticipation I had cherished with such fondness. i should that hour struggle through the fearful agonies of death no one would mourn for me none revenge for me soon my form would be mouldering in that distant soil far from home and friends or perhaps be cast into the missouri river cheers flowed down my cheeks but they only afforded a subject of insulting comment for my executioners just as they were about to tie the rope which was about my neck to the one which was on the tree they were surprised by two men who sprang out from among the trees both with pistol and hand, and one of them spoke in a firm determined manner as follows. Hold on, I have a word or two to put in here. You had better listen to them. Whoever lays another hand on that boy is a dead man. In their surprise and fright, they let go of the tree, and on springing back to its place it struck me on the head, hurling me to the ground, when one of the men who had rescued me stepped over to where I lay and cut the core from my wrists and ankles,

and also slipped the noose from my neck. I then staggered to my feet and my heart leapt with unbounded joy when I recognized the two men who undoubtedly saved my life as friends, who also were employed by the railroad company. The robbers showed no weapons, but all through this scene kept blustering and threatening, but it seemed to have no effect on my resolute rescuers. They held their pistols in their hands, and the cool manner indicated that they knew how to use them. Here the three robbers and my two rescuers began to talk, and a long dialogue ensued. in which the ruffian I had beaten

was told by my friends that they had witnessed the flogging he received and had so richly deserved. They then told them that if they had any regard for their own safety, they would leave that locality as soon as possible. They, evidently afraid of the two men, sneaked off like cowards as they were,

and they saw no more of them. A short time after I was walking by the jail, I recognized one of them looking through the grating and learned that he was charged with picking a man's pockets, but when i informed the authorities of my adventure with him and his companions a graver crime rose up against him and he was tried and sentenced to prison end of chapter three chapter four of eleven years of drunkard by thomas stoner the slipper-box recording is in the public domain as myself and my rescuers walked back to town they related to me how they had seen in the evening that i was intoxicated and so were determined to watch me until i went home they were but a short distance behind me when i was met by the man who demanded my money. The first impulse was to come up and drag the villain off to jail, and they were about to do so when I got the advantage of him. They then dropped to the ground,

out of sight, and watched the progress of the fight. When the other two men came up, they were sorry they did not, rescue me, and one of them dashed off after his revolvers. Before we had started for the grove, he had returned at the same headlong speed. They both followed me to the grove, and had it not been for them, in all probability, I would have been murdered that. night. They were my deliverers. They were men with true and generous hearts, overflowing with noble and generous emotion. To the last moment of my existence will I remember them with feelings of deepest gratitude. O immortal God, what bitter language can tell the crime of this fiery demon that has drawn me so often to the brink of a drunker's grave, in which today

is dragging thousands of our best men down to perdition. This filthy poison will fill the consumer with madness until he fears nothing and cares not what he does. When this demon maddens one's brain, it will not lead him away to some lonely spot where he would be hidden from the eyes of men. It will not lead him home where he would be shielded from danger and disgrace. Oh, did you but know the favors which you grant the devil every time you let whiskey appear in your presence? Did you but consider the happiness which you fling away every time you raise this filthy

cup to your lips. Did you but reflect how near to destruction you place yourself every time you do so? Did you seriously call to mind all the trials and troubles this monster brings upon the world every day of our lives? Had you a just sense of what a great snare of the devil's strong drink is, now easily you are drawn into it? You would importune heaven's help with as much earnestness as I, who have been ruined by rum. You would pray for light from heaven to guide you in,

time of danger and for grace to avoid the snares and resist the temptations of this promoter of crime. You would beg for patience to bear the difficulties of human life, and to submit to those trials which are the appointment of heaven. For a short time after my adventure, I did not drink any kind of liquor, and instead of going to some dancehouse or billiard saloon, I would spend my evening's reading. For four or five weeks I continued this. Oh, would to God that I had practiced it longer. But alas, I did not, but gave way to my weak passions and again grasped the drunkard's cup firmer than before. And now became even more reckless than before, and the only places where I could now amuse myself for the dens and stews of the city, where the thieves, vagabonds, and gamblers congregated for the night drinking all kinds of intoxicating liquors and smoking and chewing tobacco.

All the inmates of those dens carry knives and revolvers, and some of those wretches whose heart hearts had been hardened by strong drink, we'll jump at the slightest opportunity to use them. One evening I went over to Omaha. Before I started, I had become intoxicated, and when I landed on the other side of the river, I stepped into a saloon and drank more of this fiery liquid. Then I went out and walked around the city for some time. At length I came to a gambling den and went in. I stepped up to the bar and called for a glass of brandy, and after drinking it I sat down in a chair.

but i did not remain sitting there long for there was a man stuck his head through a door leading to an adjoining room and asked me if i did not wish to play a game of seven-up i told him that i did and went into the other room here i met two other men sitting by a small square table on which stood a bottle filled with whisky and a tumbler the three men were drunk as was also myself we threw for partners and after taking a drink out of the bottle commenced playing We played four or five games, myself and a partner losing every game. At length my brain became dull and confused by the effects of the whiskey I had drank, and in playing my cards I made a mistake of no particular consequence, at which my partner became so enraged and with drunken recklessness, drew a knife from his pocket and stabbed me in the back, inflicting a long, ugly wound, which, however, was not deep enough to be serious.

The three men ran out the back door as soon as I was stabbed, and the proprietor sent for a physician, who soon came and sewed up the wound. I remained in the saloon all night, and as I left the saloon in the morning, there was a lurking devil in my heart which prompted me to find the human bloodhound and take revenge. I walked about the town almost crazed by rum and weakened by the pain of my wound, looking for the man who had so cruelly stabbed me, until the sun approached the meridian when it became insufferably warm, the hot rays of the sun almost scorched the earth. The part of my coat which covered the wound in my back was saturated with blood.

Great drops of perspiration rolled down my face. I could walk no longer, although the devil in my heart was urging me on to find that man. But it was impossible. So I staggered off and found a second-class boarding house, where I went to bed and was soon asleep. I did not awaken for my drunken summers until dark. At first I could not think where I was or how I came there, but my scattered senses soon returned, and I rose to a sitting posture and looked around me. By my bedside sat a gentleman, whom I never remembered having seen before, so I asked him why he was there.

He informed me that he was a physician and been called in by the landlord. I asked if it was on my account that he had been called in, and he said it was, for about the middle of the afternoon I became crazy, and threw everything in my room except the bed, downstairs and then ran down myself with but a small portion of my usual attire on me oh that my parents had laid me in my grave before i had been dragged to this by rum and with a heart-broken groan i turned my face toward the wall i had not lain there long before i went to sleep and slept all night when i awoke in the morning i felt very much refreshed but very sore and stiff about nine o'clock the landlord brought me some breakfast and about ten i arose and dressed my myself, and went downstairs where I met the doctor who was just coming to see me. He was surprised to see me up and said that I was not in a condition to get up yet, and that I should at least remain in the house.

I told him that I felt bad and was stiff and sore, and my back pained me, but I cannot stay shut up in that room all day, and thought such exercises walking around the streets would not hurt me. He then told me that I must not drink any strong liquor that day, for my brain was in a very bad condition. He then spoke of the loving kindness of the Creator, of the life that is to come. After I promised him that I would not drink any more that day,

he departed, the voice of prayer ascending from his lips to heaven. Here the landlord began to talk to me in this way. Young man, you were throwing yourself to destruction by your insatiate thirst for whiskey. You ought not gratify this passion. It is criminal. It is contrary to what both faith and reason require of you, that great enemy of God and man. The devil has no power to injure any.

one, either in body or soul, unless man yields to his evil suggestions. Be sober, therefore, and watch, because your adversary, the devil, goes about in this poison, seeking whom he may destroy. But Satan can buy only those who are willing to be bitten, for he does not harm by enforcing, but by enticing. He cannot force us to consent to do evil, but through the agency of whiskey he will lead the poor victim on to destruction. O young man, throw down the drunkers' cup.

Think of the infinite goodness of God, to whom you owe all you possess. Think of all the favors which he bestows on you every day. And did he not, besides all this die in ignominious death on the cross for us? And now we are adding daily to our own transgressions. Still Jesus awaits us. With patience and untiring love, he opens wide his arms to fold us to his heart in forgiving love.

if we will but shun sin and cast ourselves humble and contrite at his blessed feet. Just then the dinner bell rang and we went to dinner. As we walked through the hall leading to the dining room, he went on to say that, if I was not blind, I must see the sin, misery, and crime that rum is spreading through our land and that he hoped I would not be so mad as to forsake God for this poison. And willfully, and to my own knowledge, set my foot into one of Satan's strongest snares. After dinner I went up to my room and lay down upon my bed.

I soon fell into a heavy slumber and did not wake until the shadows of evening were darkening my chamber. Then I arose and attempted to go downstairs. But before I reached the head of the stairs, I became dizzy and fell to the floor. I tried to get up, but it was impossible. I was unable to move. After lying there a few minutes, I gained sufficient strength to rise and walk to my room. I felt very faint and weak, but I succeeded in getting into my room. bed. I felt sick and was soon taken with violent pains in the head and back. Many times previous to this,

I had experienced similar pains to the ones in my head, and I knew that they were caused by that promoter of all evil rum. When supper was ready, the landlord came to my room and told me to come down. I told them that I was not well and would not go down to supper that evening, for I was without appetite. He did not insist but walked out of the room. Oh, if ever a boy felt homesick I did that night. I could not sleep well, and every hour seemed to grow longer than the last. Oh, would morning never come. I heard the clock and an adjoining room strike the hour of midnight. The wound in my back was growing more painful, and my head ached more violently. I thought I would surely die. Although, if I kept on at this rate, there was little to live for. Still the near

approach of death appalled me. I thought I would be willing to yield up my life, and if I were in the midst of friends but to expire in the midst of strangers under such circumstances was a bitter reflection and i turned my face to the wall and wept tears of bitter anguish i thought that i would not be so unwilling to die if i were not so deep in sin and if i were at home with my friends surrounding my bed for i knew that then would end my suffering but if i were to die as i was i knew this suffering would be eternal i knew that i must appear before the judgment bar of god were all the sins my past life would be exposed before an innuble multitude of angels and saints which would heap such a load of burning shame upon me that i would wish to sink into the darkest dungeon in hell rather than show my face again but my shame would pursue me even thither and be as everlasting as the flames that will never be quenched oh what a wicked boy i had been rejecting god to gratify my own passion for strong drink rejecting and despising god after he had dealt so mercifully with me after he had so kindly given me the power to shun all the misery which this promoter of crime had already heaped upon me and the everlasting punishment it was sure to bring upon my soul if i should die a drunkard i could see that it is a weakness and folly rather to be expected from an insane person than one who had pretensions to judgment and reason, to reject such easy terms of reconciliation as the throwing down of the rum cup.

At length morning came, but I felt no better. The landlord came up and summoned me to breakfast, and I told him I was very sick and I cannot go down, but would like to have a physician. He said he would send for one immediately and went downstairs. In due time the physician arrived, and after examining the wound in my back, and hearing about the pain in my head, he said that if I was not more careful, Whiskey would soon do its work, and I would drop early into a dishonored grave. He left some medicine, and as he departed, he said he would tell the landlord to come up and give me some every two hours.

I was very sick for some time, but the crisis having passed, I recovered rapidly, and at the end of three weeks I was upon my feet again, with the wound on my back, almost entirely healed. Before this I had long for vengeance. but now, after having stood face to face with death, all thoughts of revenge were relinquished, and in my thankfulness to God, for having saved my life, I felt a large charity in my heart for all men. All past offenses were forgiven and a resolve to go back to Council Bluffs as soon as I was able to work. One day, becoming tired of the smoke and dust of the city, I started out in the country for a walk.

When about a half-mile out of town I chanced to look back and saw a man about a quarter of a mile distant, who was walking toward me very rapidly. I did not look around again for four or five minutes. Then I sat down upon a pile of fence rails which lay by the roadside. By this time he had gotten quite near and was running. I recognized him as the ruffian who had stabbed me at the saloon. I could see that he was under the influence of liquor, for he staggered about considerably as he ran toward me.

But where was he going? Was he coming to murder me? I sat in silence, hoping he would go by and not recognize me. he kept on until he was about two or three rods of me then with an oath such a bitter frightful oath as only he could utter he snatched a long knife from under his coat and darted towards me swearing he would cut my heart out it was a moment of life or death the sharp bright blade for a moment glittered in the sunlight and the next would be buried in my heart yet in an instant so quick will a man's thoughts come to him in such a state i reasoned with myself and thought if i stood there my doom was certain and if i turned and fled ten chances to one the knife flying from his hand with deadly and unerring aim which strike me in the back there was but one course to pursue springing toward him as quickly as possible and meeting him half-way before he could bring down the knife i caught his uplifted arm with one hand and seized his throat with the other we stood for a moment looking each other in the eyes in his i could see murder and i felt as if i had a serpent by the neck which was watching the slightest relaxation of my grasp coil itself round my body crushing and stinging it to death my first thought was to cry for help but there was no house within a half mile and i could see no one who might catch the sound of my voice so i gave up the idea just at this time a lucky thought occurred to me with a vigorous and sudden kick which brought him to one knee with a groan i relaxed my grasp on a grasp on a

his throat and snatched the knife from his hand, I cast it beyond his reach. Frantic with rage, he seized a piece of rail about five feet long and rushed towards me. Again I met him halfway and seized him about the waist. He being quite helpless from liquor, I bore him to the ground with very little difficulty. While in that position he let go the stick, and I gained possession of it, and cast it from me also. He staggered upon his feet, swearing that he had come to kill me and was going to do it. He did not come up to me, however, but he did not come up to me, however, but stooped for the stick, and before he straightened himself, I sprang upon him with all my power, pressing him firmly and closely to the earth.

We remained in that position for some minutes. There have been hours in my unhappy life when the contemplation of death as the end of earthly sorrows, and other grave as the resting place of the weary body, have been pleasant to dwell upon, but such thoughts vanished in the hour of peril. My whole being revolted against the idea of dying. No man in his full strength can stand undismayed in the presence of the king of terrors. Life is dear to every living thing. The worm which crawls on the ground will struggle for it,

and it was dear to me at that moment, drunken wretch though I was. There was a lurking devil in my heart that prompted me to kill him on the spot, but I dared not kill him, for my life very likely would pay the forfeit. A voice within me whispered to fly, which I resolved to do, swinging him from me, I leaped the fence by the road siding and hurried across the prairie. As I was leaping the fence, he hurled a stick at me, which struck me but very lightly on the shoulder. I soon made my way to the hotel, paid my bill, and the next hour was in council bluffs. There I found that my conductor had hired another man in my place, after having weighed a week for my return.

I then came to the conclusion that my fortunes could not be made in the west. So after procuring what money there was coming to me, I returned. to my old home in Illinois, and in a short time obtained employment as the brakeman on a freight train. I was now fully determined to ever shun this filthy liquid, rum, which had already done me so much harm, and for two months I did not touch the drunkard's cup, but at the end of that time I raised the filthy cup to my lips, and for a week I kept under the influence of whiskey. At the end of that time, my conductor told me that I would get killed if I did not stop drinking. he told me that he had had one brakeman killed on his train while drunk and did not want another such thing to happen, and kindly requested me to stop drinking while on the train.

Being at the time somewhat under the influence of that demon, rum, I would not comply with his request, but began talking to him in a very insulting manner and called for my time. After having received my time, I went home where I made another of my many broken pledges, which, as at each previous time, I was fully resolved to keep. This time I succeeded better than at any other time since I raised the intoxicating bowl to my lips. For the next six months I did not enter a sloon or drink a drop of liquor, but this tranquil happiness could not last. I could feel the tempter at work all the time. But being, as I thought, proof against the tempter and having brothers in Iowa,

I resolved to again go west and made all necessary preparations, even to the packing of my valise. This was in the morning of April 17, 1873. I did not intend to start until night, and having some business in a small town about six miles west of my home, I went to transact my business before going to Iowa, not dreaming that that would be my last day on earth as an able-bodied man. About 12.30 p.m., I arrived in the town to which I was going, and met some of my old acquaintances, who all drank more or less and invited me to drink with them. This was the first invitation I had received since I had taken the pledge. My first answer was no, but still they insisted that I should take just one more drink with them.

I, thinking that I could stop with one, consented to drink to please a friend whom I had not seen for some time before that day. Yes, I consented to take that one drink which came very near ending my earthly career. Oh, yes, dear reader, it was that drink which did it all. For as soon as I had drank that, I had stepped from the path of sobriety into Satan's snare, and renewed my appetite for the poison, which could not be satisfied except by rum. After myself and companions had become intoxicated, I purchased a bottle of this filthy poison and proposed to start home, when my friend concluded he would accompany me.

We went to the depot, and as there was a freight train about to depart, we got on and started from my home, where we arrived in due time, and I, and my companion got off the train, but the evil one would not let me stay. No, he had got me in his grass and was going to forward his work of destruction. Knowing the train men, I again stepped aboard the train, and passing my home, I went to Geneva. Here again I left the train, and would to God I had walked directly away, but to my great sorrow I did not. Still under the influence of that poison and ready to agree to any proposition, when my companion proposed to go to Chicago, I at once sanctioned it.

As the train started, my companion jumped on and climbed. to the top of the cars. I attempted to follow his example, but missed my hold and fell between the cars, and the wheels passing over my arms mangled one of them so horribly that only a small piece of skin held it on. While the other was not so bad, yet it was an utter impossibility to save it, both arms were amputated, the right six and the left four inches from the shoulder. Now, kind friends, I have portrayed to you, as well as my ability, will allow the evils of whiskey and my earnest prayer is that each and every one who may peruse these pages will take a warning in time and abandon your downward career before it be too late to repent, for this fiery

demon will lead you destruction, where it has led thousands before. And you who have never tasted this fiery liquid, in the name of the people, I implore you to never taste it, for you can see what it has brought me to, and all in a few years. Just think of a man in my position, in the prime of life, being deprived of both arms, worthless to myself and all others. through the use of this enemy of mankind. Rum. The end. End of Chapter 4.

Recording by Kurt Walton. End of 11 years of a drunkard, or the life of Thomas Donner. Having lost both arms due intemperance, he wrote this book with his teeth as a warning to others. By Thomas Donner.