Ten Nights in a Bar Room | Page 9

from the room for some time. He left
soon after Judge Lyman, Harvey Green, and Willy Hammond withdrew,
and I did not see him again during the evening. His son Frank was left
to attend at the bar; no very hard task, for not more than half a dozen
called in to drink from the time Morgan left until the bar was closed.
While Mr. Lyon was giving me the brief history just recorded, I noticed
a little incident that caused a troubled feeling to pervade my mind.
After a man, for whom the landlord's son had prepared a fancy drink,
had nearly emptied his glass, he set it down upon the counter and went
out. A tablespoonful or two remained in the glass, and I noticed Frank,
after smelling at it two or three times, put the glass to his lips and sip
the sweetened liquor. The flavor proved agreeable; for, after tasting it,
he raised the glass again and drained every drop.
"Frank!" I heard a low voice, in a warning tone, pronounce the name,
and glancing toward a door partly open, that led from the inside of the
bar to the yard, I saw the face of Mrs. Slade. It had the same troubled
expression I had noticed before, but now blended with anxiety.
The boy went out at the call of his mother; and when a new customer
entered, I noticed that Flora, the daughter, came in to wait upon him. I
noticed, too, that while she poured out the liquor, there was a
heightened color on her face, in which I fancied that I saw a tinge of
shame. It is certain that she was not in the least gracious to the person
on whom she was waiting; and that there was little heart in her manner
of performing the task.
Ten o'clock found me alone and musing in the barroom over the
occurrences of the evening. Of all the incidents, that of the entrance of

Joe Morgan's child kept the most prominent place in my thoughts. The
picture of that mournful little face was ever before me; and I seemed all
the while to hear the word "Father," uttered so touchingly, and yet with
such a world of childish tenderness. And the man, who would have
opposed the most stubborn resistance to his fellow-men, had they
sought to force him from the room, going passively, almost meekly out,
led by that little child--I could not, for a time, turn my thoughts from
the image thereof! And then thought bore me to the wretched home,
back to which the gentle, loving child had taken her father, and my
heart grew faint in me as imagination busied itself with all the misery
there.
And Willy Hammond. The little that I had heard and seen of him
greatly interested me in his favor. Ah! upon what dangerous ground
was he treading. How many pitfalls awaited his feet--how near they
were to the brink of a fearful precipice, down which to fall was certain
destruction. How beautiful had been his life-promise! How fair the
opening day of his existence! Alas! the clouds were gathering already,
and the low rumble of the distant thunder presaged the coming of a
fearful tempest. Was there none to warn him of the danger? Alas! all
might now come too late, for so few who enter the path in which his
steps were treading will hearken to friendly counsel, or heed the solemn
warning. Where was he now? This question recurred over and over
again. He had left the bar- room with Judge Lyman and Green early in
the evening, and had not made his appearance since. Who and what
was Green? And Judge Lyman, was he a man of principle? One with
whom it was safe to trust a youth like Willy Hammond?
While I mused thus, the bar-room door opened, and a man past the
prime of life, with a somewhat florid face, which gave a strong relief to
the gray, almost white hair that, suffered to grow freely, was pushed
back, and lay in heavy masses on his coat collar, entered with a hasty
step. He was almost venerable in appearance; yet there was in his dark,
quick eyes the brightness of unquenched loves, the fires of which were
kindled at the altars of selfishness and sensuality. This I saw at a glance.
There was a look of concern on his face, as he threw his eyes around
the bar- room; and he seemed disappointed, I thought, at finding it

empty.
"Is Simon Slade here?"
As I answered in the negative, Mrs. Slade entered through the door that
opened from the yard, and stood behind the counter.
"Ah, Mrs. Slade! Good evening, madam!" he said.
"Good evening, Judge Hammond."
"Is your husband