THE DRUNKARD'S BOY.
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| II was cold stormy afternoon in March,


that clumsy looking vehicle drawn by
nall starved horse might have been seen


passing slowly along the streets Of N.
Upon the broken seat sat, or rather half re-


ciined, man in the prime of life, whose
oloated face and tattered garments plainly


told that he belonged TO that miserable


class OF people called drunkards. By his


side sat shivering boy, some ten or twelve


years OF age, watching with intense inter
est the movements of the poor animal be-


fore them, which under the guidance of the
intoxicated man swayed to and fro, threat
ening each moment to overturn them in the


m're. The rain was falling heavily, night
was coming on, and many long mile lay
between the poor boy and his home.


"Letme drive, father, please let NE drive,''
he entreated but the inebrate turned
deaf ear to his pleadings.


"a pretty thing, indeed" muttered the
drunken father; "shal I, a man, give up to
a whimpering boy I can manage nv
own horse without anybody's assis,ance;' -
and tightly pulling the rein the horse was
forced into ditch, and in a moment both
father and son lay PROSTATE in the mud
In an instant the boy sprang to his feet,
shame and grief pictured upon his young
face.a1aeas


IDisgraceful sight! His FATHER lay be-


fore him covered with mud from head to


foot, and unable to rise the father who
should have been the guide of his youth,
to whom he should have looked for coun-
sci and direction, lay before him degraded
even below The brutes! The by-stand-
ers gathered around, whispering together,
and with looks of pity upon the now weep
ing boy.


Poor child! well might the tears course
each other down his pale cheeks His
was bitter lot, and already had sorrow
LAID lis blighting weight upon his Young
heart. Alas sad indeed is the drunkard's
child Doomed 10 poverty and shame,
his earliest years are passed in sorrow
The joyous laugh of childhood is seldom
heard from his lips; and tears gush from
his eyes that should beam with mirth and
gladness. Too often he feels the gnawipss
OF hunger; and the cold blasts of winter
visit rulely his tender form But all this
he could bear, had he companions of his
own age with whom he could associate,
and who would sympathise with him in his
childish grlels and help to cheer bis bitter
lot. But no! As he passes by, they point
the finger Of scorn, and cry-"There goes
The drunkard's boy !" All they know moi
how deep pang of grief they cause 10 en-
ter his heart. They think not of the crushed
affections which are yearning for an object
there, not of the burning tears he pours in
secret over his degraded lot Poor child
lie must struggle onward, friendess and
alone, while his wretched parent browns
his reason in the Intoxicating cup, Who
does not pity the drunkard's child who
will not lend helping hand to raise him
from his misery Perchance his father may
yet be saved may be induced to renounce
the poisonous bowl, which has brought him
so low, and stand once more man made in
the image Of God.- Youth's Aduocate