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THE 
 
 DAUGHTER 
 
 OF A 
 
 REPUBLICAN 
 
 BY 
 
 BEKNXE BAJBCX)CK 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 
 THE NEW VOICE PRESS 
 1903 
 
Copyright 
 
 1899 
 
^ The world at large gives small attention 
 
 to human effort until it has reached the full 
 Stature of a robust^maturity. 
 
 ^ By way of ienoouragement, it is well for 
 
 many obscure toilers that there are tiiose who 
 think they see a bt^d of promise in the yet 
 undeveloped effort. 
 
 Because of the loving interest she has 
 always taken in my every first attempt/’ I 
 dedicate this little volume to 
 
 MY MOTHER. 
 
 
*Pm cold , ' whiacd the btny . " 
 
XLbe Daudbtet of a 'Republican. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE OEOWLEY FAMILY. 
 
 Let me introduce the reader to the Crowley family, 
 and when you have become acquainted with them bear 
 well in mind that in this broad land of ours there are 
 thousands upon thousands of families in a condition 
 as deplorable, and some whose mercury line of de- 
 bauchery has dropped to a point of miserable exist- 
 ence as yet unsounded by this family. 
 
 The Crowleys are all in tonight, except the father, 
 and he is momentarily expected. 
 
 It is a bitter night in February. The ground is 
 covered with ice and sleet causing many a fall to the 
 unwary pedestrian. 
 
 The wind comes in cutting blasts directly from the 
 north, rattling and twisting everything in its way not 
 securely fastened, then dying away in a long weary 
 moan, abandoning its effort only to seize upon the ele- 
 ments with a firmer grasp and come battling back with 
 fresh vindictiveness and force. 
 
6 
 
 THE DAUGHTEE OF A EEPUBLICAISr. 
 
 There were those who did not mind this storm, peo- 
 ple around whose homes all was secure and whom no 
 rattling annoyed, people who enjoyed bright lights 
 and warm fires, but these were not the Crowleys. 
 The Crowley’s home consisted of two rooms in a rick- 
 ety old tenement house around which everything rat- 
 tled and flapped as the wind raged. Their light came 
 from a dingy little lamp on a goods box. Every now 
 and then a more violent gust of wind struck the house 
 with such force that the strujsture trembled and the 
 feeble light flickered dangerously. 
 
 Here and there broken windows were stopped up 
 with rags and papers and through the insecure crevices 
 the wind found its way with a raspipg, tiresome 
 groan. 
 
 What little fire there was, burned in a small rusty 
 stove. Its door stood open, perhaps to keep the low 
 fire burning longer, perhaps to let the warmth out 
 sooner, and against the pale red glow four small hands 
 were visible, spread to catch the feeble heat. 
 
 On a bed in one corner, gaunt, and with wasted 
 form, a woman lay. 
 
 This was the mother. 
 
 A girl of perhaps fifteen sat close to the stove and 
 held a tiny baby wrapped in a gingham apron. 
 
 A spell seemed to have fallen on the usually noisy 
 group. Even Cora, the family merrymaker, was 
 quiet, until aroused from her reverie by an act of her 
 brother who replenished the fire. 
 
 She spoke rather severely. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 7 
 
 Johnnie, how many pieces of coal are there left 
 in the box 
 
 Five-r-and little ones.’’ 
 
 Then get to work quick! Take out one of the 
 pieces that you have just put in. We are not rich 
 enough to burn three pieces at once.” 
 
 I’m cold,” whined the boy. 
 
 So am I, awful cold, but you know that coal must 
 do till pa comes.” 
 
 I’d like to know when that will be. . Any other 
 pa would be home such a freezing night as this. I 
 hate my pa.” 
 
 Johnnie, Johnnie, you must not talk that way. 
 He is your father, child.” 
 
 The voice came from the bed and was marked by 
 that peculiar tone noticeable when persons extremely 
 cold try to speak without chattering. 
 
 I can’t help it, mother. I’m cold, so cold, and I’m 
 hungry, too. I only had half a potato, and Maggie 
 says they’re all gone.” 
 
 Poor child !” said the mother with a sigh. Here, 
 Maggie, give him this,” and she drew from under the 
 pillow a small potato which she held toward the girl. 
 
 But the girl did not stir until the hungry boy made 
 a move in the direction of the bed. This movement 
 aroused her as his overdose of coal had roused his 
 other watchful sister a moment previous. 
 
 No ! No ! Johnnie. Do not take it. Our mother 
 will starve. She has not eaten anything for two 
 days.” 
 
g THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 *^Tiet him have it, Maggie. I cannot eat it. Per- 
 haps your father will come soon and bring some tea. 
 I think a good cup of tea would make me better.^^ 
 
 ^^And, mother,^^ said Cora, ^Ve will take the money 
 we were going to spend for shoes and get a bit of 
 flannel for you and the baby. You must have it or 
 you will freeze. Surely father will come soon. He 
 said he would.^^ 
 
 ^T^early everyone has gone home now. Hardly a 
 person passes, Cora observed, with her nose pressed 
 against the frosty pane. 
 
 ^^That is because it is so cold. It is not late yet. 
 We will wait a little longer, and then Maggie — 
 
 ^^0, mother! Do not ask me to go. It is so cold, 
 and suppose — suppose I had to go into a saloon again. 
 It nearly kills me to go about such places.^' 
 
 ^TTou might meet him, Maggie, and keep him from 
 going in.^^ 
 
 ^^f my pa don^t come tonight, he^s a big liar, that’s 
 all I” broke in J ohnnie, hotly. 
 
 His mother did not answer him. She was watching 
 the face bent low over the tiny baby. She noted the 
 careworn look and the nervous pressure of the hand 
 held over the tiny one to keep it warm. 
 
 Presently the girl lifted her eyes to her mother. 
 Those tender pleading eyes of the mother would have 
 melted a harder heart than hers. She went to the bed 
 and put the baby in, close to its mother’s side. Then 
 she threw her arms around the haggard woman’s neck 
 and kissed her passionately. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 9 
 
 ^T)ear mother/^ she said, would do anything for 
 you. I will go for father, and before it gets any 
 later.^^ 
 
 ^^Pray, child ! Pray every breath you draw I 
 
 Pray every step you take that you may find him be- 
 fore it is too late. If you do not — I cannot imagine 
 what is to become of us. Pray! God is not cruel. 
 Surely he will hear us in our misery 
 
 Would you see the drunkard^s daughter dressed for 
 a walk this bitter night? A frail, slender girl, who 
 should have been warmly clad, she is dressed in thin- 
 nest, shabby cotton, through which the elements will 
 play as through rags of gauze, while the flesh of her 
 feet, unprotected by her almost soleless shoes, will 
 press against the sleet. The two faded pink roses that 
 flap forlornly on the side of her coarse straw hat bear 
 a silent suggestion of pathos — a faint remembrance, 
 perhaps, of the days of departed happiness. 
 
 While she is adjusting the remnant of a shawl so 
 as to cover as much of her shoulders as possible, the 
 children are giving her numerous messages to be given 
 their father when she finds him. At last she is ready. 
 After hesitating a moment she kisses them all and with 
 a shudder steps out into the howling swirling blast. 
 
 She walked briskly, halting a second every time she 
 met a man to see if he were the object of her search 
 and passing each time with a growing fear, as each 
 time she was disappointed. 
 
10 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 At last she came to the door of the saloon where her 
 father had so often worse than wasted the money hk- 
 family were perishing for at home. 
 
 She stopped. 
 
 She knew it was warm and light inside. Perhaps 
 her father had just stepped inside to get warm. Should 
 she look ? 
 
 While she stood shivering in the wind, getting her 
 courage up to the point of entering, a man passed her 
 and went in. As he went through the door a familiar 
 voice greeted her ear, a voice she well knew and had 
 learned to fear. 
 
 She did not hesitate longer. Opening the door she 
 walked swiftly and noiselessly in. For a moment the 
 air seemed to stagger her, so laden was it with the 
 fumes of liquor and tobacco. There was a crowd 
 around the bar and the bartender was busy mixing 
 drinks and jingling glasses. 
 
 She saw her father. He was about two-thirds 
 drunk and she knew, poor child, that she had found 
 him at his worst. Her courage almost failed her, and 
 she took an involuntary step toward the door. Her 
 father’s voice arrested her. 
 
 Here it goes, and it’s my last. Now, who can say 
 Dam Crow has not done the square thing?” And 
 with the words he flung a silver dollar on the bar. 
 His last had joined his first. All had gone into the 
 same coffer while an innocent wife and helpless chil- 
 dren were starving and freezing at home. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 11 . 
 
 A pair of hungry, pleading blue eyes came like a 
 vision to Maggie. Before the ring of the silver had. 
 died away, she sprang forward like a tiger and seized . 
 the dollar. 
 
 “ Thief ! thief cried a chorus of vpices and tw^;* 
 or three seized her. 
 
 By the Lord, iTs Mag ! my Mag ! Give that 
 money where it belongs, and tell what brings you 
 here, you huzzy,’’ and Damon Crowley seized his 
 daughter by tho shoulder and shook her savagely. 
 
 I will give it where it belongs, and that will be to 
 mother. I came here for you, father. Mother is 
 sick and cold and nearly starved. The children are 
 all crying for something to eat and the coal is gone ; 
 and this is the last ?” 
 
 She opened her hand and looked at the dollar. 
 Damon Crowley reached for it, but quick as a flash 
 she closed her fingers over it and thrust her hand be- 
 hind her. 
 
 ' Never,” she said firmly. This is the last. It 
 shall be ours to buy mother some tea and the children 
 some bread.” 
 
 Give me that money, you devilish brat !” and 
 stepping forward he struck her a blow in the face. 
 
 She staggered. 
 
 Some of the bystanders laughed. Some called her 
 a plucky girl, and one, more nearly drunk than the 
 rest, thinking that he was in a dog pit no doubt, called 
 lustily, ^^Sic ’em ! Sic ’em !” 
 
12 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 Maggie cast an appealing glance around the room. 
 All of the men had been drinking. Some were nearly 
 intoxicated. The bartender was sober^. but it was his 
 dollar that was involved; he could not interfere. 
 
 Poor Maggie! She stood her ground bravely. It 
 was the last; she could not let it go. The enraged 
 man gave vent to his passion in a volley of oaths. 
 
 ^'Give me that dollar^ or Pll bust your head. 
 
 I wonH stand such treatment, you fool!^^ and 
 
 suiting the action to the words, he drew from under 
 ihe stove a heavy poker and started toward her. 
 
 Someone caught his upraised arm., 
 
 ^^Let her go, Dam Crow. Let her have her dollar. 
 You^ve done the square thing. Not a stingy bone in 
 your body.^^ 
 
 A laugh followed this speech, in which Damon 
 Crowley joined, and w^hich seemed to put him in bet- 
 ter humor. He threw the poker down heavily and 
 taking the frightened girl rudely by the arm pushed 
 her toward the door. 
 
 ^‘^Tell the sick lady her husband wants her to have 
 tea, nice warm tea, plenty of tea, and this is your 
 share,^^ and opening the door he pushed her into the 
 passageway and gave her a violent kick. 
 
 The crowd inside laughed loudly and then went on 
 with their drinking and swearing as if nothing had 
 happened. Such visits as the visit of Maggie were 
 of too frequent occurrence to cause any prolonged rip- 
 ple of excitement. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 IS 
 
 Poor Maggie! She lay groaning on the cold, slip- 
 pery ground, just outside this licensed, money-making 
 pet of Uncle Sam^s. 
 
 She was half crazed with pain and growing numb 
 when two young gentlemen came along. One stooped 
 and picked up something lying in the street. 
 
 ^^Gad! Fve good luck/^ and he held up the dollar. 
 
 ‘^Tlease, mister! iPs mine. Give it to me quick. 
 IPs all thaPs left.^^ 
 
 '^And what did you do with the others? Come 
 now, youVe had a little too much of the stuff inside, 
 but youM better move on or you^l freeze.^^ 
 
 ^TiePs call a policeman.^^ 
 
 ^^Too cold to stop. The)^^l find her; and if she 
 freezes, well enough. Her kind are of no use to the 
 world.^" 
 
 Then the speaker dropped the dollar in his pocket, 
 and taking his companion's arm hastened away. 
 
 ^^0 God! 0 God.!^^ groaned Maggie. But her 
 cry was lost on the moaning wind. 
 
 Presently a man wrapped in a fur-trimmed coat 
 turned the comer and almost ran over the prostrate 
 form. He halted suddenly and spoke to her. No 
 answer. 
 
 He shook her. Only a faint groan. 
 
 Then he stepped to the saloon, and after a sharp, 
 decided knock by way of announcement, entered. 
 
 ^^Does the girl lying outside belong to anyone here ? 
 She is nearly frozen.^^ 
 
 A couple of men stepped to the door and peered out. 
 
14 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 It’s Dam Crow’s girl. She was in here a huntin’ 
 him.” 
 
 Where is her father ?” 
 
 That’s him/’ pointing to a man lying on a bench 
 behind the stove. 
 
 Guess he’s asleep/’ said the man, smiling broadly. 
 
 Wake him, and hurry about it,” said the gentle- 
 man. 
 
 But Damon Crowley was not in a sleep that could 
 be easily broken. Like a beast he lay. The spittle 
 oozed from his mouth and spread over his dirty beard 
 in true drunkard fashion. When told that his daugh- 
 ter was just outside freezing, he could only grunt. 
 
 Where is his home ?” 
 
 Small use to take her there,” one man observed, 
 recounting part of the interview that had taken place 
 a short time before. But no one knew where he lived. 
 The muffled man left the saloon abruptly, evidently 
 much disgusted. 
 
 Stepping into the street he called a cab just 
 passing. After having had the half-dead girl placed 
 in the vehicle, the gentleman followed, slamming the 
 door. 
 
 Then he took off his great coat and threw it over her 
 tattered garments. 
 
 Judge Thorn was a tender-hearted man. 
 
THE DAUGPITER OF A KEPUBLICAN. 15 
 
 CHAPTERII. 
 
 THE THORNS AT HOME. 
 
 The Thorn homestead, like the family whose name 
 it bore, was magnificent and substantial in an unas- 
 suming way. Its gray gables seemed to look with a 
 frown on the gingerbread style of architecture that 
 had giwvn up around it. Under the trees on its lawn, 
 three generations of Thorns had grown to man’s es- 
 tate, and every one of them had become a lawyer. 
 
 It had been the hope of the present occupant that 
 when he left the estate he might leave it in the hands 
 of a son, but this was not to be. 
 
 After a short married life his wife died, leaving 
 him childless. 
 
 Some years later he married^ a second time. When 
 his first child was born and he was told it was a 
 daughter, he was disappointed. When the second 
 child came and was also a girl, his disappointment 
 verged on resentment. Through the hours of anxious 
 waiting that preceded the arrival of the third child, 
 he walked the fioor in a state of mind alternating be- 
 tween hope and fear, and when at last the suspense 
 was over and he looked upon the tiny features of a 
 son, his joy knew no bounds. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 He hurried out to break the news to the two little 
 sisters whom he imagined would be as pleased as he 
 was. He found them in the yard, Vivan swinging 
 with her doll and Jean digging a hole in a pile of 
 sand. When the important announcement was made, 
 the black-haired Vivian clapped her hands for ipy, 
 hut the other little girl kept right on digging, jus^s 
 if she had not heard. When she had passed the criti- 
 cal point in the process of excavating she paused and 
 looked up. 
 
 The expression in her father^s face was something 
 new to her, and she studied him in silence a moment, 
 then said, solemnly: 
 
 ^^Are boys any .better than girls, father ?” 
 
 ^^Better? Why no, they are no better. They are 
 boys, that is all.^^ 
 
 ^^Well, theh!^^ and the tone of her voice, no less 
 than the words, conveyed the meaning that the matter 
 was settled, and she returned to her digging as if 
 nothing had happened. But she did not forget the 
 incident, and when, shortly after, the tiny baby boy 
 in the cold amis of his mother had been put to rest 
 beneath a mound, and the light had gone out of the 
 father^s face and the elasticity out of his step, little 
 Jean pondered and her heart went out strangely to 
 her father in his bitter trouble. She followed him 
 softly about and studied him. 
 
 One evening, some time after the little son had 
 come and gone, Jean appeared before her father in 
 the library to make^ an important announcement# 
 
^he daughter of a republican. 
 
 17 
 
 been thinking the matter over, father/^ she^ 
 said, ^^and Fve made np my mind I will be your boy. 
 You want a boy, and you know yourself youll never 
 be able to make one of Vivian, with her wee little 
 mouth and her long braids. ITow my hair is just 
 right and I can throw a stone exactly over the middle 
 of the barn and kick a ball farther than any boy on 
 the block. I shall kick more hereafter, for don^t you 
 think a boy^s legs ought to be cidtivated 
 Judge Thorn smiled and assured her that she was 
 correct in her idea of muscular development. 
 
 ^^Are boys as good as girls, father 
 ^TBoys as good as girls ? Why, certainly 
 ^^Well, you said once that girls were as good a?^ 
 boys, and if boys are as good as girls theyYe as good 
 as each other, aren^t they?^^ 
 
 Judge Thorn could not keep back the laugh this 
 time. 
 
 believe that is the logical conclusion,^^ he said. 
 ^Then tell me truly, father, if I^m going to be your 
 boy, are you going to be as glad as you were that 
 morning you bothered me when I was digging my 
 welir 
 
 Judge Thom hesitated a moment, but the clear 
 gray eyes were upon him, and he felt the justice of 
 their plea. 
 
 ^^Yes, dear, I think so.^^ 
 
 ^^And may I do just as you do when I get big — 
 read books and make speeches 
 
18 
 
 the daughtee .of a eefuejligah. 
 
 Now Judge Thom was not an advocate of the ad- 
 vanced sphere of women and was not sure he wanted 
 his daughter to be a lawyer, but after a short reflec- 
 tion, perhaps thinking the request but the passing 
 fancy of a child, he gave his assent. 
 
 Thank you, father,” she responded*^ gravely. ‘T 
 think you are a very good man.” Then she kissed 
 him and left the room. 
 
 He sat, still smiling, when her voice close to his 
 side startled him with the announcement : 
 
 I think, father, if you do not care, I will not go 
 into pants. I might not feel at home, you know.” 
 From the time that the little Jean had announced 
 herself as her fathers boy, he took more interest in 
 her; and as the child developed, he saw unfolding 
 the traits and abilities he had hoped to nurture in a 
 son. Intuitively she seemed to understand his moods 
 and fancies, and as her understanding developed, the 
 books were a source of delight to her, and many times 
 she discussed knotty problems with her father in a 
 way that pleased him mightily. 
 
 So, as the years went by, she slipped into the place 
 the father had reserved for the son, and he loved her 
 with a peculiarly tender love and was never prouder 
 of her than when he heard her say, in explanation of 
 her notions and her plans, am my father’s boy.” 
 On the particular night when Maggie Crowley was 
 wandering about in the storm, two young women oo* 
 •cupied a handsome room in the Thorn home. A 
 cheerful wood fire burned on the hearth and the clear 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLIC AI^. 
 
 19 
 
 rays from an overhanging light cast brightness over 
 the rows of books that lined the walls. 
 
 These were two people who minded not the winter 
 weather. The cold wind blowing through the gables 
 and leafless trees held no terror for them. Perhaps 
 they rather liked to hear it as by way of comparison 
 it made their lot seem more comfortable. 
 
 The tall slender woman with black hair was ex- 
 amining alternately a fashion book and a bunch of 
 samples. She was Vivian, a pronounced society 
 lady. 
 
 The other sat in a low chair, by a small study table, 
 reading, only looking up now and then to answer 
 some question put to her by her sister. This was 
 
 my father’s boy.” 
 
 The solemn little Jean was gone, in her place was 
 this altogether charming young person, whose shapely 
 head was crowned with coils and coils of red brown 
 hair held in place by numerous quaintly carved silver 
 hairpins. If it had not been for the clear gray eyes 
 and the quaint fashion she still had of dropping her 
 head on one side when solving some momentous prob- 
 lem, the little J ean might have been a dream. 
 
 Presently the door opened and Judge Thorn en- 
 tered. 
 
 Nice evening, girls !” 
 
 /^Delightful!” 
 
 Blackstone, Jean ?” 
 
 The young lady looked at the book quizzically a 
 moment and then laughed. 
 
20 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 ^^United States history, father. Last week I re- 
 viewed Caesar. Now I am on this, and if I do my 
 best I think I may reasonably hope to be in the Third 
 Eeader by next week.^^ 
 
 The judge laughed. 
 
 have been reading our constitution and looking 
 over the record of The late unpleasantness/ said 
 Jean. ^Tt is very interesting to me. Do you 
 know, father, I love every woman who gave a hus- 
 band or a son to her country, and I almost hold in 
 reverence the memory of the men who shed their 
 blood to effect the abolition of human slavery in 
 America.^^ 
 
 The tall form of the Judge straightened and his 
 eye brightened, like a soldier^s when he hears the 
 names of his old battle-fields. 
 
 ^^Do not forget, he said, ^That there were those 
 who acted as brave a part who never faced a cannon. 
 It is easy to be borne by the force of a great wave ; but 
 those who by their time and talents put the wave of 
 public opinion in motion are the real heroes. 
 
 can remember the time when a man who 
 preached or taught Abolition was looked upon as nar- 
 row-minded, fanatical, bigoted and even criminal. 
 When the name was a stench in the nostrils of the 
 people even in liberty-loving Boston. When men 
 were rotten-egged, beaten, and in some instances 
 killed because they dared to follow the dictates of 
 their own consciences and make sentiment for the 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 21 
 
 overthrow of the traffic in humanity. It took all this 
 to bring it about. No great moral reform takes place 
 without agitation, or without martyrs. Those men 
 bore the brunt of battle before the battle was. They 
 were most surely heroes. They made the tidal wave 
 of opinion that swept the country with insistent force 
 and struck the shackles from 3,000,000 slaves.^^ 
 
 ^^And you, father, were one of them,^^ cried the 
 enthusiastic girl. ^^What perils you must have 
 braved V’ 
 
 did all I could, you may be sure,^^ answered 
 the judge, m^odestly, ^^and I imagine it would be more 
 agreeable to be whipped in a hand-to-hand encounter 
 than to be caricatured, misrepresented and lied about, 
 and by those, too, who claimed to have the abolition 
 of slavery near their hearts, who prayed unceasingly 
 for its utter destruction, and then split hairs as to the 
 way in which it was to be accomplished, and who 
 fondly hoped to exterminate it by marking boundary 
 lines.^^ 
 
 ^^But then,^^ asked J ean, ^ Vas there no way by 
 which this terrible war could have been averted? No 
 way by which the government could have regulated 
 and gradually suppressed slavery 
 
 ^^Eegulations and restrictions,^^ replied the Judge, 
 waxing eloquent, ^^put upon such a vice by a govern- 
 ment are but its terms of partnership. Gradual 
 suppression of a mighty evil is always a signal fail- 
 ure, and while we wait to prove these failures the 
 enemy gains foothold.^^ 
 
22 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 '•1 am proud of you, father — proud to be my 
 father's boy — proud to be the daughter of a patriot/' 
 said. J ean, with tears in her clear eyes. am a pa- 
 triot, too, and if ever such an issue comes to the front 
 in my day, I intend to do a patriot's part, if I am a 
 woman." 
 
 do not think such an issue will ever be forced to 
 the front again. That was a moral question as well 
 as political. Other matters vex the people of today 
 — money matters mostly — in which more diplomacy 
 is required than bravery." 
 
 'T must hurry now. I have but fifteen minutes 
 in which to get down town." 
 
 ‘^^You surely are not going out tonight?" 
 
 ^^Business appointments must be kept. The storm 
 was not considerate enough to leave town before The 
 man' came, and The man' cannot wait for the storm 
 to take its departure, so what is to be done?" 
 
 ^^Does tTames know?" 
 
 ^T do not want the horses tonight." 
 
 Jean stepped out and returned with his wraps. 
 She held the great coat while he thrust his long arms 
 into it. Then she tied his muffler around his neck. 
 
 ^Tather, while you are out, if you run across any 
 lonely reformer, put in for Jean an application for 
 the position of first assistant," laughed Vivian. 
 
 Judge Thorn left the room, and these two daugh- 
 ters of fortune settled themselves for a comfortable 
 
 evening. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 2d 
 
 Before it seemed possible that an hour had gone 
 they heard a vehicle drive np to the side gate. 
 
 The carriage stopped for several minutes, then 
 rattled away over the hard ground, and presently the 
 judge re-entered the room. 
 
 ^TJgh! This is a tough night. Fire feels good,^^ 
 and he rubbed his hands briskly. 
 
 brought home company, girls. TSTot exactly 
 the reformer Vivian was speaking of; perhaps some- 
 one to reform..^^ 
 
 ^^What do you mean 
 ^^Whom have you found 
 
 • think I may be able to explain what I mean, 
 but until the girl thaws out a little we will not know 
 who she is,^^ said the judge mysteriously. 
 
 • ^^What in the world do you mean, father ? But 
 tell us about it.^^ 
 
 ‘^Well, as usual on a night of this sort, there was 
 a missing man. The search for him took me a couple 
 of blocks out of my way and in coming back I passed 
 a saloon of a low order and found the girl lying in 
 the sleet. I thought more than likely she was drunk, 
 and stepped into the saloon to advise them to look af- 
 ter their productions. Here 1 found her father in a 
 state of beastly intoxication and learned that she had 
 been there, a short tkne before, begging him to go 
 home with her to a sick wife and some hungry chil- 
 dren, but I could not find out where this home was. 
 Just as I left the saloon a cab came along, and I had 
 
24 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 the driver put the girl in it. This is all. Where are 
 jou going, Jean 
 
 Going to see the object of your charity.’’ 
 
 Judge Thorn placed his hand on Jean’s shoulder 
 and pushed her gently back into her chair. 
 
 Possess your soul in patience. Ton could be of 
 no possible service if you were to go. Mrs. Floyd 
 has her in charge and will do all that is necessary. I 
 am not sure that it was wise to bring her here. I am 
 almost sorry that I did so, but I hated to leave her 
 and there was not a policeman in sight ; there never 
 is. 
 
 It is a shame such places as the place at which I 
 stopped tonight are allowed to exist. Two-thirds of 
 the crime and misery of our entire nation can be 
 traced directly to their doors. They are a public 
 nuisance, an outrage to civilization. Temperance 
 people must see to it that license is raised so high that 
 this sort cannot obtain it.” 
 
 Would that shut them up ?” said Jean. 
 
 Certainly it would.” 
 
 Not all the saloons ?” 
 
 All the poor, low ones.” 
 
 What about the rich ones ?” 
 
 It would make no difference with them, but they 
 have not the bad effect on the morals of a community 
 that the low ones have. They are patronized by a set 
 of people who do not pour their last cent down their 
 throats and employ their time beating their families.” 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A KEPUBLICAjST. 
 
 25 
 
 Jean crossed one foot over the other, leaned slightly 
 forward and with her head dropped a little to one 
 side in the old-time way, sat studying the fire. She 
 was trying to solve some knotty problem. 
 
 Her father smiled. It seemed she was the little 
 Jean come back. 
 
Give me some, quick! 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 27 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 JEAN THE ABOLITIONIST. 
 
 Come in, father, and make yourself comforta- 
 ble.’’ It was Jean speaking, as she stood in the glow 
 of the library lamp. I have been waiting for you. 
 You need not cast your eye around for the paper ; you 
 will not find it until my case has had a hearing.” 
 Judge Thorn sank into the great easy chair before 
 the fire with an air of forced resignation, and the 
 young woman continued : 
 
 It is quite necessary nowadays, you know, for 
 women to have ^ideas.’ I have ideas on social and 
 moral questions, but I do not know just where I be- 
 long when it comes to politics.” 
 
 The judge lifted his hands with a show of expostu- 
 lation. 
 
 So our J ean would be a politician,” he cried. 
 
 Oh, the times ! Oh, the customs !” 
 
 Not quite so bad as that, father,” replied the 
 young woman, smiling but serious; ^^but I am in 
 downright earnest. The making, the unmaking and 
 the enforcing of law are politics, and every American 
 woman should have an interest in these things. Every 
 
28 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 thinking woman must have an interest in them. I 
 must know more of politics.’’ 
 
 You are right/’ said her father, thoughtfully ; 
 ^'you are right.” I do not believe a woman should 
 get out of her sphere, but a woman’s influence is 
 mighty, and inasmuch as all law and reform come 
 through the ballot box, there can be no harm in her 
 giving an intelligent hearing to politics.” 
 
 Then, father, please listen to me for a few min- 
 utes ; I want to tell you what has set me to thinking 
 along these lines. Two weeks ago you brought 
 Maggie Crowley here. I went to see her in her room 
 the next morning, and she told me her story. Her 
 mother was sick, the children were hungry and cold, 
 so she started out to find the father before he had 
 spent his money for drink. 
 
 When she finally found him, she found him in a 
 saloon in the act of handing over his last dollar to pay 
 for liquor that others had drunk as well as himself. 
 She got the dollar some way and started home, vrhen, 
 as she said, she fell. The dollar rolled into the street 
 and a passerby picked it up and pocketed it, in spite 
 of the fact that she told him that it was hers, and that 
 it was the last. 
 
 I shall never forget the way she looked when she 
 came to this part of her story. Her eyes brimmed 
 with tears and her voice was lost in a great big sob. 
 She begged me, for the love of heaven, to go to her 
 mother, who must be half -crazed with grief because of 
 her disappearance, and to take her something to eat. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 29 
 
 So Mrs. Floyd fixed a basket of lunch and we 
 went. A lump rose in my throat when I went into 
 that place. It was cold, very cold. Maggie’s mother 
 was lying on a bed in one corner of the room, with one 
 thin quilt over her, and a tiny moaning baby at her 
 breast. Sitting on a box near the bed were two chil- 
 dren, a small boy and a girl. They were huddled 
 under a fragment of blanket. The boy was crying 
 for something to eat and his sister was trying bravely 
 to comfort him. 
 
 There was not a spark of fire nor a crumb of food 
 about the place. When Mrs. Floyd opened the basket 
 and the children saw what it contained, they bounded 
 toward it like wolves, and the woman reached out her 
 thin hand and said, eagerly : ^ Give me some quick ! 
 
 I’m nearly starved, and the baby is so weak — my 
 breasts are dry.^ 
 
 I took off my glove and felt her hand, and I really 
 thought she must be frozen ; but she said she had been 
 that way so much she was growing used to it. 
 
 We stopped on our way home and ordered some 
 coal, and later made a raid on our closets and pantry 
 and made up a load of stuff to take back. I sent some 
 good blankets and quite an assortment of clothing, so 
 that by night they were fairly comfortable. 
 
 I went again the next day to see how they were 
 getting along and to give them news of Maggie, und 
 while I was there the father came home for the first 
 time. He was over his spell of intoxication, but was 
 weak, and tottered like an old man. His eyes were 
 
30 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 bloodshot, and on the whole he was not a very pre- 
 possessing looking gentleman, but I could not help 
 feeling sorry for him. It seemed so sad to see a be- 
 ing, created in the image of God, such a miserable 
 wreck. 
 
 Casting his eye hurriedly around the room, he 
 went to the bedside and asked for Maggie. His wife 
 told him how she had gone for him, how she fell, and 
 the rest of the story, and then he told his tale, and — 
 can you believe it, father — that man kicked the girl 
 out of the door — ^kicked his own daughter down the 
 steps into the storm that night, and gave her the in- 
 jury from which she lies here under our roof now. 
 
 My blood boiled, fairly boiled. I could feel it 
 bubbling. His wife turned her face to the tiny baby, 
 and I could see her frame shake under the cover. 
 The man knelt beside the bed and wept, too, and 
 again I was sorry, with a sort of contempt mixed in, 
 for the man. 
 
 After a time his wife turned to him, and, resting 
 her thin hand on his head, spoke kindly to him, and 
 referred him to the Lord for the strength that he so 
 sorely lacked. The man did pray, and I am sure he 
 was in earnest; and he asked his wife^s forgiveness 
 and took a solemn oath that he would never touch an- 
 other cursed drop.’’ 
 
 Good” ejaculated the judge. 
 
 Good ?” echoed Jean. Wait, I have not finished 
 yet. I went there several times. I liked to go. It 
 made me happy to see the look that was coming into 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 31 
 
 (iie woman’s eyes. She took two half-dollar pieces 
 from under the pillow one morning, and proudly dis- 
 played them, telling me it was the first time in a year 
 her husband had given her so much. She said she 
 had hoped in vain, so many times, for him to reform 
 that she had given up hope, but that now she really 
 believed poor Maggie’s misfortune would prove their 
 blessing. They have not always been poor. Once, 
 when they were younger, they owned a nice home and 
 the husband occupied a good position. But he chose 
 for his associates men who spent a good part of their 
 time in a certain fashionable downtown saloon, and to 
 be social he drank with them. He was not a man who 
 could drink a great deal and not become intoxicated, 
 so, when he began to lie around drunk, they pushed 
 him out. 
 
 Mrs. Crowley says the starting point of all their 
 poverty and sorrow and shame was on the threshold of 
 the respectable gilt and glass palace that bears over its 
 doors the names of Allison, Bussell & Joy. She 
 knows the place well. I think those gentlemen would 
 not be pleased to hear the things she says of them ; for 
 certain it is her husband would never have been a 
 drunkard if it had been necessary for him to have 
 learned the habit in a low grog shop.” 
 
 Jean paused a second and looked at her father, but 
 he seemed unaware of her gaze, and she continued : 
 
 Then I went in to-day to tell them that Maggie 
 would be home in a few days, and I found a change. 
 The girl Cora was on the bed with her mother. The 
 
32 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 blankets and' sheets had disappeared. The few pieces 
 of furniture that the room contained were scattered in 
 disorder. I will try to tell the rest of the story as 
 Mrs. Crowley told it to me. I will never forget, 
 father, the helpless despair that sounded in her voice 
 and manner as she talked. 
 
 ^ Ah, Miss Thorn !’ she said, wearily, ^ It’s all 
 over — all gone. I should have known better than to 
 have hoped again ; but hope is so sweet ! Yesterday 
 morning my husband seemed more like himself than 
 he has for years. He kissed us when he went away 
 and promised to be home early. We were all very 
 happy. He is such a kind, good man when he is him- 
 self. Oh ! if only he had never crossed the threshold 
 of that gilded trap of hell. Those men’s names burn 
 in my mind. I wonder if such men as Allison, Rus- 
 sell and Joy have hearts. 
 
 ^ Cora fixed supper, and then we waited. He did 
 not come ; but I felt so sure some way that he would 
 that I was not uneasy. The children finally had to 
 eat alone. About 9 o’clock he came. Dear Miss 
 Thorn, if you have never seen a raving, frenzied man, 
 pray God you never may. This was the way he came 
 home. He had had just enough of liquor to fire up a 
 gnawing, burning pain and not enough to satisfy him. 
 He came directly to the bed and demanded the money 
 he had given me in the morning. I told him it was 
 i>;one. He swore an oath, and asked me where. I 
 told him Johnnie had spent it for food. He swore 
 
• THE DAUGHTEE OF A EEF0BLICAN, 
 
 33 
 
 another awful oath, and took up a stick of wood, with 
 which he began to beat the boy. 
 
 W hen you are a mother you can better imagine 
 than I can describe how I felt, lying helpless in bed, 
 and seeing a man, my own husband, so cruelly heating 
 my innocent child. Cora, poor Cora, went bravely to 
 hei brother s rescue, and her father, God forgive him, 
 beat her until the blood came from his blows, and she 
 fell to the floor, and then he kicked her. 
 
 I could stand this no, longer. I sprang from the 
 bed, but I was weak. I could do nothing, and he, the 
 man who promised before God to protect me, kicked 
 me, too. It seemed to me then that his boot-toe 
 pierced my heart. Johnnie ran oiit to call some one 
 in, but before he returned my husband had taken the 
 blankets and other things that he could pawn and had 
 gone. 
 
 Perhaps you think it strange for me to tell these 
 things to you, but my heart is bursting and. my brain 
 is on fire with such misery that I must talk. Come 
 
 and see what a man can do w’hen crazed with rum 
 
 a good father when he is himself— and in a Christian 
 country ! Where are the preachers and the people 
 who call themselves God’s people, that they do not 
 drive away forever the cause of all this ?’ 
 
 I looked at the girl Cora ; and I wish, father, that 
 she might be put on exhibition in some public show 
 window downtown, conspicuously labeled, ' A speci- 
 men of the work done by a father when under the ef- 
 fects of Christian America’s legal poison.’ 
 
34 
 
 THE DAHGHTEK OF A EEPHBLICAH. 
 
 “ She was literally covered with wounds and her 
 legs were so swollen she could not walk. 
 
 “ Now, father, get out your list of political parties, 
 examine the candidates, and put me where I belong. 
 This is a question that must come into politics, as all 
 reforms come through the ballot-box, and I must give 
 my influence to that political party or power making 
 this a clear-cut issue. I am an Abolitionist.” 
 
 “ A what ?” 
 
 “ An Abolitionist.” 
 
 “ How is that ?” 
 
 “ Simply enough : I stand for the everlasting 
 
 abolition of the liquor traffic. It is quite the proper 
 thing for the daughter of a Republican to be an Aboli- 
 tionist.” 
 
 Judge Thorn laughed. 
 
 “ You put your case plain enough,” he said. 
 “ There is small room to doubt how you stand, but I 
 think that you will see that abolition in this ease 
 Avould be impracticable. You know, my girl, in these 
 days a half-loaf is better than no bread. Political 
 parties, like the grass of the field, sprout up and die 
 away. There are but two real parties. The fight on 
 leading issues is between them. All that is necessary 
 for you to do is to read the platforms of these two 
 parties and make your choice. Listen !” 
 
 He took down a political almanac from one of the 
 library shelves. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 35 
 
 are opposed/^ he read all sumptuary laws 
 as an interference with the individual rights of the 
 citizen/^ 
 
 Jean sat rocking slowly, with her hands clasped be- 
 hind her head. As her father read, her forehead 
 . wrinkled. After he had finished, she waited as if ex- 
 pecting something more, then said: 
 
 ^^Is that all P 
 
 ^^That is all.^^ 
 
 ^Then it occurs to me, if I can understand plain 
 English, that this party proposes to do nothing to stop 
 the terrible drink curse. Bring on another. That is 
 not my party.’^ 
 
 Judge Thorn read again, and this time with an air 
 of profound satisfaction: 
 
 ^^The first concern of all gobd government is the 
 virtue and sobriety of the people and the purity of the 
 home.^^ 
 
 Jean's face lit up, and she looked eagerly toward 
 her father. 
 
 ^^We cordially sympathize," read on the judge, 
 ^Vith all wise and well-directed efforts for the promo- 
 tion of temperance and morality." 
 
 Jean sat looking into the fire. Her father waited 
 a few seconds, then she turned her face to him. 
 
 ^^And what do they propose to do ?" 
 
 "^Do ?" 
 
 ^^Yes, DO! The cordial sympathy of the whole 
 Eepublican party does not make Mrs. Crowley any 
 happier nor take any of the soreness out of Cora's 
 
36 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 body, nor do anything toward curing poor Maggie; 
 and I cannot see how ^cordial sympathy’ is going to 
 shut up any saloons or keep Mr. Crowley from get- 
 ting drunk again. So far, so good, but read on. I 
 am anxious to learn what this party proposes to DO 
 to promote ^temperance and morality.’ ” 
 
 That is all the platform contains on the subject,” 
 said Judge Thorn. Individuals are left to their 
 own judgment as to the best methods to be used in the 
 restriction of the evil, although the policy of the party 
 is weli known.” 
 
 It is ?” 
 
 High license.” 
 
 Does high license promote temperance and moral- 
 ity ?” 
 
 Certainly : high license closes a great many sa- 
 loons entirely, and puts the business in the hands of 
 men who run respectable places.” 
 
 Respectable places !” quoted Jean, thoughfully. 
 
 The judge looked at the fire in silence. 
 
 And, father,” persisted the earnest girl, do sta- 
 tistics prove that* fewer licenses are issued in cities 
 where high license laws are in effect and that there is 
 a decrease in crime and poverty ?” 
 
 To be sure. It must be so, for Republicans, as a 
 rule, are the temperance people and, as a rule, the}^ 
 indorse high license. But you have heard the read- 
 ing, ^ All wise and well-directed efforts/ one is at lib- 
 erty to substitute no license by local option, or any 
 other restrictive measure he deems wise.” 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 37 
 
 Is there room on this broad platform for any 
 liquor dealers 
 
 Quite a number ; and here again may be seen the 
 higher moral tone of the party, for nine times out of 
 ten it is the better class of dealers who are allied with 
 it.'’ 
 
 Jean leaned back in her. chair and rocked. As she 
 mused she rocked more and more slowly, and when 
 she stopped abruptly her father knew the verdict was 
 ready. 
 
 Well, father, this much is settled: I do not be- 
 
 lieve in high license. In the first place, I think it 
 dishonest to let the rich man, who can afford to do so, 
 pay for the privilege of making more money and shut 
 out the poor man, who is trying to earn a living, be- 
 cause he is not already rich. In the second place, it 
 occurs to my mind, more so after knowing Mrs. Crow- 
 ley, that if license laws could be so arranged as to 
 wdpe out the ^respectable' places, the low ones would 
 soon follow. Public sentiment would not tolerate 
 them, and if it did, the coming generation would not 
 be lured to destruction by glitter and music. 
 
 In the third place," and the girl sprang to her 
 feet and stood looking her father full in the face, a 
 man who labored fearlessly for the overthrow of hu- 
 man slavery when public opinion pointed the finger of 
 scorn at him, said to me not long since : ‘ Regula- 
 
 tions and restrictions put on such a vice by the gov- 
 ernment are but its terms of partnership.' " 
 
38 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 It took Judge Thorn half a minute to recognize his 
 words. Then he laughed. 
 
 ^^Jean, child, you are getting sharp. Your logic is 
 all right, but you must remember times have changed. 
 This is different.^^ 
 
 cannot see, father, that the moral issue is any 
 different. Of the two great evils, intemperance is 
 certainly a greater curse than ever slavery was; for 
 while it has all the pain and heartaches and sorrow of 
 every description that accompanies slaver}^, the worst 
 feature of it is that hell is filling up with souls that 
 drink their doom when they drain the wine cup. T 
 think I understand myself, father, and I say again, I 
 am an Abolitionist. Bring on some other party plat- 
 form.^^ 
 
 ^There are no others but the labor organizations 
 and the ^cranks.^ 
 
 ^AVhat do the labor people say?^^ 
 
 ^^They regard intelligence, virtue and temperance, 
 important as they are, as secondary to the great mate- 
 rial issues now pressing for solution.^^ 
 
 ^^\nd the ^cranks,^ as you call them?^^ 
 
 ‘^'They have no policy, and their politics consists in 
 trying do undo all the temperance legislation th^y get 
 through other parties because it does not come through 
 theirs. As a political party they are the most fanat- 
 ical and narrow-minded that history takes account of. 
 Indeed, I doubt not that, in certain instances, their 
 obstinate opposition to men and measures has been 
 little short of criminal. But I will read: 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 39 
 
 favor the legal prohibition by state and na- 
 tional legislation of the manufacture, importation and 
 sale of alcoholic beverages.^ 
 
 ^^Eureka!^^ she shouted. am not alone. How 
 many others like me?’^ 
 
 quarter of a million, I presume,^^ he answered, 
 a trifle grimly. 
 
 ^‘^And must I take my stand in polities away from 
 my dear father, who is so wise and just 
 
 ^^You are young, Jean, and impulsive. You will 
 see the matter in a different light when you have 
 given the subject more thought. I am old now. For 
 over half a century I have studied the affairs of men, 
 and I tell you the time is not now expedient for such 
 an issue to be forced to the front. 
 
 ^men will it beP' 
 
 ^^When sentiment is strong enough behind the 
 movement to enforce the law.^^ 
 
 ^^Strange,^^ mused Jean. '’One might almost im- 
 agine, by the amount of resolving that has been done 
 in the last few years, that sentiment was strong 
 enough to sink the traffic five miles deep in the ocean 
 of righteous indignation. I tell you, father, senti- 
 ment is the prime essential of the whole thing; but as 
 long as it floats around everywhere, like moonshine, 
 what is it good for? We need concentration and 
 crystallization now. In other words^ I believe in a 
 party of embodied sentiment.^^ 
 
40 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 ASLEEP IN JESUS. 
 
 Gilbert Allison, of the firm of Allison, Eussell & 
 J oy, wholesale and retail liquor dealers, walking 
 briskly along a sideway that led toward one of the 
 great throughfares of the city, halted a second before 
 crossing the street. As he stopped a voice reached his 
 ear. Hearing the voice he took a more careful glance 
 at the surroundings and found himself standing in 
 front of a plain little wooden structure that he 
 learned, from a sign upon one corner, was some sort 
 of an orthodox chapel. Through the narrow, open 
 doorway the voice floated : 
 
 Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep. 
 
 From which none ever wake to weep — 
 
 A calm and undisturbed repose. 
 
 Unbroken by the last of foes. 
 
 Asleep in Jesus ! Oh, how sweet 
 To be for such a slumber meet ! 
 
 With holy confidence to sing 
 That death has lost its venom sting. 
 
 Both words and tune were unfamiliar to him. Was 
 it the song itself, sung to the sweetly pathetic tune of 
 ^^Rest/^ was it the strangely beautiful and solemn 
 
TKE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN 
 
 41 
 
 /oice of the singer, or was it common curiosity to see 
 the owner of the unusual voice that proved the attrac- 
 tion prompting him to step into the vestibule ? Un- 
 seen he watched as the song went on : 
 
 Asleep in J esus ! peaceful rest, 
 
 Whose waking is supremely blest. 
 
 No fear nor foe shall dim the hour 
 That manifests the Savior’s power. 
 
 Asleep in Jesus ! Oh, for me 
 May such a blissful refuge be ! 
 
 Securely shall my ashes lie 
 
 And wait the summons from the sky. 
 
 The sweet voice of the singer died away, and the 
 stillness was broken only by low sobbing. Then the 
 minister arose. 
 
 Gilbert Allison had 'seen enough. The plain, dark 
 coffin just before the altar railing told him that an- 
 other human soul had left its earthly body and had 
 gone beyond. 
 
 He was not interested in this. His mind dwelt on 
 the singer. She was rather small, a well-formed and 
 graceful appearing young woman of perhaps tA/nity- 
 two or twenty-four. She wore a plain dark dress, 
 and a round hat rested on the masses of red-brown 
 hair that framed her face and crowned her shapely 
 head. Here and there in the mass a carved silver 
 hair-pin showed itself, and Gilbert Allison found him- 
 self studying the effect as he walked down the street ; 
 found himself puzzled as to why he had stopped and 
 noticed her hair or her. Evidently she had made an 
 
42 the daughter of a republican. 
 
 impression on him. He tried, in a way, to analyze 
 this, and finally gave it np, yet found himself con- 
 tinually recalling the face in its frame of red-brown 
 hair. 
 
 He had known many charming women in his three 
 and thirty years of life, but he had never felt before 
 the indescribable charm that had suddenly, like the 
 fragrance of a hidden violet, come to him for the un- 
 known singer in the dingy chapel. Gilbert xHlison 
 had guarded well his hearts affections, but there 
 comes a time in the lives of most men when the heart 
 refuses to be subject to the will and obstinately goes 
 whither it pleases. This man^s heart was about to 
 assert its rights. The daughter of a Republican was 
 to have a lover, for it was Miss Thorn who sang. 
 
 That Miss Thorn should sing had been the wish of 
 the now lifeless sleeper, and Jean had done her best. 
 
 All that was mortal of Maggie Crowley rested in 
 the plain, dark coffin. A life fraught with sorrow 
 and tears and an innocent shame was ended; a body 
 racked with hunger and pain and cold was at rest. 
 From the time of her awful hurt, now a year ago, 
 Maggie had been an invalid. The children had gone 
 out to work, and the frail mother had tried to cheer 
 them as she toiled in the valley of despair. A new 
 sorrow had come into the wretched home: Cora, yet 
 
 a child in years, because she had a fair face and a 
 drunkard for a father, had been robbed of her one 
 priceless possession — her unspotted character — ^by a 
 man whose name was familiar in high circles, and 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 4.^ 
 
 whose hand was courted by more than one mother for 
 some cherished daughter. 
 
 From the time that her sister bartered away her 
 purity, in the bitter, thankless battle that she fought 
 for bread, Maggie had steadily grown weaker, and 
 when the mother knew^ the time was near at hand for 
 her to go she sent for Miss Thorn. 
 
 Jean had never been beside a death-bed, but she 
 did not hesitate. 
 
 Maggie was lying, white and thin, upon the pillow. 
 She looked eagerly toward the door. Her eyes lit 
 with a lingering light, and a faint smile came around 
 the corners of her drawn mouth when she saw that It 
 was Jean. She spoke slowly and softly, without 
 much effort, and quite distinctly. 
 
 ^T^m going pretty soon, Miss Thorn, and I wanted 
 to see you. YouVe been so good to us — God will 
 bless you for it. When I am gone, donT forget poor 
 mc^ther. Please doiFt, Miss Thorn! She will be 
 sad. I^m the only one that remembered the other 
 days, and we used sometimes to talk of them and pray 
 that they might come back. Maybe God will send 
 them back some day — but I will not be here. I^m 
 not afraid to die. Christ died for the drunkard^s 
 child — Pm sure he did. Pm so glad to go. In m}” 
 FathePs house are many mansions — many mansions 
 — one for us.^’ 
 
 She closed her eyes as she repeated the words softly. 
 
 *^^When I am gone, do not feel sad, mother — not 
 too sad,^^ she continued in a moment. ^^Think that 
 
44 TTIE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 I have only gone to sleep to wake up where there is 
 no more sorrow. I’ll be waiting in our mansion, 
 mother, and there we will be happy, for the Book says 
 he will not be there who puts the bottle to his neigh- 
 bor’s lips.” 
 
 She stopped to rest. The room was very quiet. 
 
 When my father comes,” a look of intense long- 
 ing came into her sunken eyes, and for a moment she 
 struggled to force back the great sob of sorrow that 
 seemed choking her, tell him ^goodby’ for Maggie. 
 Perhaps he will be sorry — ^not like he once would have 
 been — just a little. Don’t let the children forget me. 
 Dear children ! How I wish I could take them all to 
 the mansion. And Cora, poor Cora ” 
 
 The last tears that ever shone in Maggie’s eyes 
 filled them now. 
 
 God knows about Cora,” said Jean, tenderly, 
 while the mother wept in silence. 
 
 The dying girl lay quite exhausted, and, while she 
 rested, her eyes wandered from one to the other of 
 the few around the bed and rested lovingly on her 
 mother’s face. Her minutes were numbered. Mor- 
 tality was ebbing away. When she spoke again it 
 was with more of an effort, pausing now and then for 
 breath. 
 
 Stoop over, mother ; let me put — my arms around 
 — your dear, kind neck. Put your face down — so I 
 can put my cheek— against yours — as I did when we 
 were happy. I’m going back — to it. I smell the 
 roses. I hear the pigeons — on the roof. Lift me — 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 45 
 
 mother — gently. I am — tired. Sing — my — good 
 
 nigh t — song — I’ 11 — go — to — ^sleep . ’ ’ 
 
 Mrs. Crowley drew the dying girl’s head close to 
 her heart and tried to sing; but her voice failed. 
 Then, in the presence of the death angel, Jean sang 
 for the girl’s long sleeping. 
 
 Suddenly a clear, happy, childish voice rang out on 
 thtr stillness — ^^Papa’s coming !” 
 
 It was the last. The arms around the mother’s 
 neck unclasped. The weary head sank upon the 
 pillow. The eyelids fluttered. The breaths came 
 shorter and shorter — the weary girl had entered into 
 rest. 
 
 The soul of the drunkard’s daughter had gone 
 where justice reigns supreme ; where a God of justice 
 watches the kingdoms of the earth and in mercy stays 
 the doom that comes a certain penalty of the nation 
 that sells its maids and youths to the rum fiend. 
 
 Mrs. Crowley stood looking down on the wan face 
 of her first-born. 
 
 Thank God she is happy ! But it’s hard — so 
 hard !” 
 
 A mother’s love is the same the world around. 
 This mother threw herself down by the bedside, and, 
 holding one of the lifeless hands to her lips, sobbed 
 bitterly. 
 
 It seemed a desecration that just now the father 
 should come stumbling into the scene, filling the room 
 with the fumes of liquor and muttering drunken 
 
46 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 curses. But Maggie was beyond the reach of human 
 harm. This would never pain her heart again. 
 
 Neighbors came in, and Jean stepped out into the 
 fresh air. 
 
 It was nearly noontime. The streets were busy, 
 and as she went towards home she saw the beer 
 wagons driving in every direction, loaded with their 
 freight of sorrow and pain and death. As she passed 
 the palaces of gilded doom, arrayed in cut glass and 
 mirrors, luring the souls of men and boys to hell, she 
 thought of the Christian voters of the nation who al- 
 low it to .be so because, bound by party ties and fooled 
 by party leaders, they will not force this mighty issue 
 to the front and demand its recognition at the ballot- 
 box; and these words rang in her ears: ^‘^Because I 
 
 have called and ye have refused, ye have set at naught 
 all my counsel. I also will laugh at your calamity 
 when your destruction cometh as a whirlwind.^^ 
 
 The words burned in her mind, and when she 
 reached home she entered the library and without re- 
 moving hat or gloves threw herself upon a sofa. 
 
 It was not quite time for luncheon. The house was 
 quiet. 
 
 Vivian had, during the year, married the rector of 
 a large and fashionable city church. For weeks be- 
 fore the eventful occasion life had been one round of 
 shopping and fitting, of entertaining and rehearsing. 
 Jean, as maid of honor, had figured conspicuously in 
 the different functions, and for a time her mind was 
 so absorbed with the fragrance and sunshine of life 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 47 
 
 that its seamy side was forgotten. But after it was 
 all over her thoughts and sympathies went out again 
 to that family of the ^^other half^ that she had so 
 strangely become interested in, and the old question 
 pressed itself for solution, wh}^ in a Christian land 
 of plenty, such a state of life for such vast numbers 
 was allowable or even possible. 
 
 With the sound of the dying girPs voice in her ears 
 and the sight of a nation^s legalized poison yet before 
 her vision she rested, and so engrossed was she with 
 her thoughts that she did not notice the entrance of 
 her father. 
 
 ^^4 penny for your thoughts, my dear.^’ 
 
 Jean looked up suddenly. Then she caught her 
 father’s hand and drew him to her side. 
 
 have seen a death to-day, father — a death, a 
 drunkard, loads of beer and whisky.” 
 
 ^^Crowley dead at last ?” 
 
 ^^Maggie.” 
 
 ^Toor girl. No doubt she is better off.” 
 
 ^^es, .better off,” repeated Jean. ^^But, father, I 
 have been thinking of the whirlwind. You know the 
 Book that has voiced unerringly the stage play of the 
 ages says destruction is coming as a whirlwind — as a 
 whirlwind. Can you not catch its roaring under the 
 bluster of silver and tariff and war? Do you never 
 hear the mutterings of its power? Are there not 
 signs of the coming whirlwind — signs unmistakable 
 
48 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OI’ A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 — roastings in the South and lynchings in the North, 
 bloody strikes from east to west, deep-seated unrest 
 among the nation’s laboring masses, and the steadily 
 increasing cry of a multitude of suffering and help- 
 less people writhing under the heel of the great in- 
 iquity ? Couple the signs of the times, father, with 
 an indisputable knowledge of corruption in politics, 
 the inefficacy of the law because of the absolute power 
 of rum and ^boodle’ and the utter absence of any fixed 
 moral principle in the dealings of the great majority 
 of the old party leaders, and have we not an fissue’ 
 that imperatively demands the attention of every 
 loyal American ? 
 
 The more I think, the less I blame the laboring 
 element for their dissatisfaction, bordering on mad- 
 ness at times. I feel that they have just cause to be 
 alarmed. Am I a pessimist, father, or is there a 
 cancer eating out the nation’s life ?” 
 
 The young woman stood in the center of the room, 
 erect and with arm extended. The lawyer was look- 
 ing at her with a gleam of fatherly admiration ; but 
 as she closed the outburst with her question he grew 
 grave and stroked his beard. The facts were not un- 
 familiar to him. 
 
 I do wish,” he said thoughtfully, that the labor- 
 ing element would see that it is to their interests to 
 stand by that party that promises them the most in 
 the way of reform, instead of making so much fuss 
 and striking and splitting into small parties that can 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 49 
 
 hope to effect nothing and might cripple their best 
 friend and put the country hopelessly in the hands of 
 the political enemies of progress and reform,” 
 
 Jean laughed. 
 
 “You look now for all the world, father, like a 
 child whom I saw a few days ago. I came upon her 
 holding a doll’s body, with a stump of neck where the 
 head had once been. She looked down at it tenderly 
 and smiled a dear little motherly smile. ‘ What do 
 you see, child V I asked. ‘ My dolly’s beautiful face,’ 
 she said. ' Where is it ?’ said I. ‘ It’s gone,’ she an- 
 swered, proudly, but with the fond look still in her 
 eyes. You view the reform element in your party in 
 about the same light.” 
 
 “ When did you turn champion of the labor 
 party ?” said the judge, a trifle impatiently. 
 
 “ I have done no turning. There is but one party 
 standing for the real good of the people. What is 
 the use of organizing a party to exterminate trusts 
 and then being afraid to measure arms politically 
 with the greatest trust on earth ? The laboring ele- 
 ment will seek their best interests sooner or later.” 
 
 “ Your party has added a few labor planks to catch 
 votes.” 
 
 “ I beg your pardon, father. Almost from the be- 
 ginning, some thirty years ago, this party stood as it 
 does now. The trouble with you is, if I may be al- 
 lowed to say it, you know nothing of the party I have 
 discovered. Let me read you its platform.” 
 
go THE DAUGHTER OP A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 And from a small, green book Jean began her read- 
 ing, while Judge Thorn listened attentively. But 
 before she had finished James appeared with the 
 evening paper, and almost unconsciously he opened it. 
 As he cast his eyes on the page a smile overspread 
 his face, and the words of the reading were lost. 
 J^an finished presently, and frowned a little, when 
 she saw her father so deeply engrossed in his paper. 
 Presently he looked up, the broad smile still upon his 
 face. 
 
 '^Jean, my girl, listen!^’ and he read an account of 
 the dramatic passage of the anti-canteen law by Con- 
 gress. 
 
 Judge Thorn had been deeply interested in the 
 canteen question. He had known a boy, the son of a 
 professional friend, who had been most carefully and 
 prayerfully reared at home in fear of the inheritance 
 of an appetite for liquor, but who had gone at his 
 country's call to uphold her honor, and had become a 
 drunkard through the regimental canteen. He him- 
 self had seen the fifty law-breaking canteens in Camp 
 Thomas at Chickamauga, with their daily salefs 
 amounting to hundreds of dollars. He had seen 
 something of the same evil at the little army post 
 near their own city; and a young man who had been 
 his confidential clerk before the war, and who was 
 now with one of the volunteer regiments at Manila, 
 had written to him of the canteen: ^Tt has been 
 
 the curse of this army, and has caused more deaths 
 than the Mauser bullets. It is a recognized fact that 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 51 
 
 in regiments where canteens are established drinking 
 is not restrained, rather encouraged, and numerous 
 sprees are started that are finished in the saloons just 
 outside. Six cases of delirium tremens have re- 
 sulted from the establishment of the r^imental grog- 
 gery. Our army is in danger a thousand times 
 greater than any foreign foe may ever bring against 
 us. When will the government take action 
 
 The lawyer’s clear mind had seen where the re- 
 sponsibility for the whole system lay, and, sorely tried 
 by the President’s inaction, partly to lift from his 
 party the odium of the canteen disgrace and partly 
 as a matter of real heart choice, he had worked with 
 more than his usual vigor to help bring to bear a pres- 
 sure in Washington great enough to abolish the army 
 saloon. 
 
 Cheer, Jean!” he said. Cheer for the party 
 in power. The bill has passed.” 
 
 Was it your party or public sentiment in spite 
 of your party that brought about the passage of the 
 bill ?” asked J ean. 
 
 Sentiment, my dear girl,” said the judge, dog- 
 matically, without machinery back of it, is good for 
 nothing.” 
 
 Exactly. If you remember, father, that has 
 been the burden of my plea for a new party. An- 
 swer me a question, and I will cheer so that I may be 
 heard a block. You tell me that the position of this 
 party you ask me to cheer for is high license; now 
 
52 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 here is a list of ninety-five of the principal cities of 
 the country, forty-six high license and forty-nine low 
 license. The total arrests for drunkenness in the 
 high license cities was 288,907, as against 208,537 
 in the low license cities. What I want to know is 
 this: How is this sort of a temperance measure go- 
 
 ing to ^promote temperance and morality’ ? Public 
 control, local option, mulct tax and other measures 
 you devise figure up about the same way. Take 
 these statistics and in the light of them solve the puz- 
 zle for me.” 
 
 Statistics are hard to dwell in unity with. Take 
 them to a preacher. This is a matter for them to deal 
 with,” laughed the judge. 
 
 Why do they not deal with them, then ? Seven 
 million church member voters in this country ! Why 
 do not they focus their religion and do something? 
 I divine a reason. While they live all the rest of the 
 year with prayers and resolutions, they go out on a 
 moral debauch on election day with a disreputable 
 individual known as Party.” 
 
 The judge stroked his beard and smiled. Then he 
 turned again to his paper. No need,” he said, 
 complacently, for a better party than what we have. 
 Listen !” and again he read the measure that had so 
 pleased him. Is it not splendid, and so plainly 
 worded that a wayfaring man, though a fool or a 
 third-rate lawyer, cannot mistake the meaning of it. 
 Now watch the machinery work. We shall have 
 ‘ father’s boy ’ back cheering for the grand old party 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A KEPUBLICAH. 
 
 53 
 
 yet/’ and the judge placed his hand fondly on Jean’s 
 shoulder. 
 
 I’ll keep my eye on the ‘ machine/ ” answered 
 Jean, playfully, but I am woefully afraid it is 
 punctured, though I wouldn’t mention it for any- 
 
«Vbrt for Whisky, Boys!'” 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A KEPUBLICAIsr. 
 
 55 
 
 CHAPTEK V. 
 
 LESSONS OF AN ELECTION DAY. 
 
 It was the municipal election day. Judge Thorn 
 was alone in his office. He sat at his desk, which was 
 piled with papers which he was busy sorting. The 
 door opened and Miss Thorn entered. The judge 
 looked over his shoulder. You are a bit late/’ he 
 said. 
 
 Jean looked at her watch. 
 
 A trifle/’ she answered, but I have always 
 wanted to know what sort of people run our govern- 
 ment, and I have been out satisfying my curiosity. 
 I have been to the polls.” 
 
 To the polls,” echoed the judge, sharply, whirling 
 around from his desk with a sudden movement that 
 scattered his papers over the floor. 
 
 That is what I said, father. I have been to the 
 polls ; and worse, I took an active part in the proceed- 
 ings by offering the voters ^ no license ’ tickets.” 
 
 Jean, I must say you have overstepped the 
 bounds of all propriety. You are a young lady who 
 has been allowed a good many privileges, but this is 
 carrying things a little too far,” said the judge, al- 
 most hotly. 
 
66 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 You were there this morning, I believe^ father,” 
 Jean answered, coolly. 
 
 I believe I was, but that is no reason you should 
 go. It is no fit place for a decent woman.” 
 
 I will admit that, father, and I will go a little 
 further and say it is no fit place for a decent man 
 either.” 
 
 Men have grown used to such sights and sounds 
 as are seen and heard around a polling place.” 
 
 I suppose so. But if decent men can grow used 
 to such things and escape contamination, I think 
 decent women can do the same; and if decent men 
 cannot I suppose you would advise them to stay away 
 from the polls.” 
 
 ^^No; no, indeed. The bad element largely pre- 
 dominates now, and it is the duty of every good citi- 
 zen to stand by his colors at the ballot box. But we 
 will not discuss the matter further. The fact re^ 
 mains the same. Of course you are of age and can 
 go where you choose, yet I am nevertheless dis- 
 pleased.” 
 
 I am sorry that you are displeased, father, and 
 if my doing so will afford you any satisfaction, I will 
 promise you that I will not be caught in such a howl- 
 ing mob again until I can go as an equal of some of 
 the specimens I have seen today.” 
 
 Jean removed her hat and jabbed the hat pin into 
 it with some asperity. 
 
 I have been grossly insulted,” she said. 
 
 Just what I have expected to hear,” said her 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 57 
 
 father, and what can be done when you put your- 
 self in the way of it ? ’’ 
 
 ‘‘ I have not the remotest idea how I put myself 
 in the way of it, but you will probably be able to ex- 
 plain to me. Our venerable Uncle Sam is the offend- 
 ing party, and the offense is something like the in- 
 dignity you would offer me if you gave Vivian all the 
 privileges and love that you should share with me, be- 
 cause she happened to be born with black hair, and 
 then should try to keep me in a state of blissful de- 
 lusion by telling me I had the sweeter disposition. 
 There would be about as much sense and justice in 
 such a procedure, coming from you, as there is in the 
 way Uncle Sam treats women. 
 
 Here I am, a woman of good moral character, 
 fairly intelligent, I hope, with a good education, de- 
 nied my right to the ballot because, forsooth, I chanced 
 to be born a woman and am considered too good. To- 
 day’s visit to the polls has reminded me of this insult, 
 tendered by our government to its loyal women. 
 
 By the time I got within two blocks of the polling 
 place, I could hear the general commotion. When I 
 arrived on the scene of action, I found a number of 
 women, of good standing in the community, trying to 
 get men to vote against license. Truly a humiliating 
 business! But as they pressed me, I took a few of 
 the ballots and started into the crowd, while a friendly 
 looking policeman followed me. 
 
 I had hardly made a start when some one crossed 
 my path yelling wildly, Wote for whisky, boys ! Vote 
 
58 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 for whisky, boys ! ’ He was that half-witted, pump- 
 kin-colored individual that you discharged last winter 
 because he did not know enough to keep the horses^ 
 feet clean. Armed with his license ballot, he halted 
 a second before me ; then, fluttering the ballot, which 
 he held between his fingers under my nose, he shouted 
 again and again, ^ Vote for whisky, boys ! ’’ 
 
 He gave me a look that told me plainer than a 
 volume of words could have done that he recognized 
 his importance. He knew that he stood head and 
 shoulders above me in Uncle Sam’s estimation, in 
 spite of my learning and morality, ■ because on him 
 had been bestowed a gift denied me. 
 
 I do not like it. I want the right of citizenship. 
 I want to stand on an equality with folks at least that 
 do not know enough to clean a horse’s feet.” 
 
 It sounds very foolish, Jean,” said her father^ 
 ^^for one of your birth and breeding to be talking thus 
 of an equality with such a character as this.” 
 
 It does sound foolish, wonderfully foolish,” ad- 
 mitted Jean. ^A^ou and I know, father, that I am 
 his superior, but when it comes to a question of the 
 social welfare, that is a very different thing. He well 
 understands that he is a privileged character there. 
 He is a unit of society’s make-up, and where do I 
 come in ? Along with the Chinese, the ex-convict and 
 the insane ! I do not relish any such sort of company. 
 God made woman capable of self-government, and ex- 
 pected it of her. Whv .«^^ould she not be on a suffrage 
 equality with man ?” 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 59 
 
 Why do you want to vote, Jean V’ asked the judge, 
 as he would begin with a witness. 
 
 Why do you want to vote, father, ? ’’ sharply re- 
 plied the girl. 
 
 Why, my vote is my individuality in the hody 
 politic. I could not do without my vote,’’ said the 
 judge, with a slight hesitation. 
 
 Do you not suppose I want some individuality, 
 too ?” came the prompt retort. 
 
 The judge laughed. 
 
 I have every reason to believe you do,” he said. 
 
 Do you not suppose that I would not like to help 
 make the laws that govern me ?” asked Jean, taking 
 upon her the role of inquisitor. 
 
 Men can make enough laws for both sexes, I 
 guess,” w^as the reply, uttered in a tone that carried a 
 suspicion of dismissal. 
 
 I guess they can,” persisted Jean ; ^Tut what iSort 
 of laws have they been ? Heathenish, some of them !” 
 
 For instance ?” 
 
 Laws that have been on our statute books allowing 
 fathers to will away their unborn children; laws 
 allowing the father to appoint guardians of whatever 
 kind or creed over his children, leaving the mother 
 powerless. And what shall we say about the abomina- 
 ble laws made by men everyone of them, that legalize 
 the sale of drink ?” 
 
 Well, a woman is a woman, Jean, and the polls 
 is not a fit place for a w^oman,” and the judge set his 
 lips very firmly. 
 
60 
 
 THE DAUGHTEE OF A KEPUBLICAH. 
 
 That is the assertion you made at the outset, 
 father. It is no argument, and much as I respect you, 
 I can hardly accept it as final. You know, father, 
 that if polling places are not fit for decent women, 
 neither are they fit for decent men, and the sooner 
 decent people get around and clean them up, the better 
 it will be for the country. Come, now, if you have a 
 sound, logical reason why women should not vote, 
 bring it on.’’ 
 
 Well,” said the judge, ^^even admitting that the 
 advent of women in politics might have a cleansing 
 effect, women do not want the ballot.” 
 
 What women ?” demanded Jean. 
 
 The majority of women.” 
 
 How do you know they do not ?” 
 
 It is to be supposed that if they were clamoring 
 to any great extent for it we would hear of it through 
 the papers.” 
 
 What papers ? Papers that oppose it to the bit- 
 ter end ? I can show you papers by the dozen and the 
 score that would enlighten you along this line. 
 Women do not ask, but rather they demand, the ballot. 
 But this is begging the question. If it is right for 
 women to have the ballot, it is right, and if it is 
 wrong, it is wrong — that is all there is to it. How, 
 father, tcll me the reasons.” 
 
 Why, Jean, have not I given you reasons and 
 have you not overruled them, every one?” was the 
 almost testy answer. A woman is a woman, and 
 God never intended her to vote.” 
 
THE DACTGHTER OF A REPUBLIC AI^^. 
 
 61 
 
 Jean laughed merrily. 
 
 What are you laughing at demanded her 
 fathei. 
 
 Why, at you ; you are back just where you started. 
 IVomen must not vote because they are women. If 
 you have nothing better to offer there is no use of 
 going over the grounds again. This makes me think 
 of the time I studied circulating decimals.” 
 
 The judge joined in Jean’s laugh, and turned again 
 to his papers, as if glad of a diversion. 
 
 After Judge Thom had picked up and rearranged 
 his papers ho looked toward Jean, who had suddenly 
 grown quiet. In her face he saw something that was 
 new to him and that in some way sent a little jealoqs 
 pang to his heart. Her face was a dream study. A 
 soft, far-away expression rested over it, and her father 
 knew that she was somewhere, away from her sur- 
 roundings, but he did not interrupt her. Presently 
 she spoke : 
 
 I saw a man to-day.” 
 
 I supposed that you had seen several.” 
 
 Well, of course,” the girl admitted, ‘^but I rarely 
 notice men, and that I remember this one so distinctly 
 and think of him surprises me. He w^as tall and 
 broad shouldered and dressed in a navy blue business 
 suit, and I think probably he was the handsomest man 
 I have ever seen, though I cannot tell why I think so. 
 His hair and eyes were brown, his hair almost black, 
 it was so dark, and a trifle curly. His eyes were clear 
 and honest looking, with a touch of fun in them and 
 
62 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAIT. 
 
 sometliing else that I have not been able to define, but 
 that I liked. He wore a mustache, but it only par- 
 tially concealed bis mouth. I think perhaps it was 
 his mouth that I liked best. It was a firm mouth, 
 maybe a hard one, but I admire a firm man.’^ 
 
 Judge Thorn laughed. 
 
 You must have examined him pretty closely.’’ 
 
 No, father, I saw him at a glance some way. 
 Perhaps he impressed me as he did because I was so 
 disappointed in him. I saw him standing at a short 
 distance from the animated crowd around the polls, 
 looking on with an air of mingled amusement and dis- 
 gust. I made up my mind, that he was the very indi- 
 vidual who would take one of my ^no-license’ votes, so 
 I asked him. 
 
 He took off his hat and looked down at me, for he 
 is tall, a look made of a little astonishment, a bit of 
 fun and, I imagined, some pity, and said : ^ I am 
 
 really very sorry that I cannot do as you wish, but I 
 cannot consistently vote against license, being myself 
 engaged in the liquor business.’ 
 
 Of course I said no more, but I was never so sur- 
 prised in my life, and to tell the truth, I was disap- 
 pointed.” 
 
 Judge Thorn looked relieved. 
 
 I believe I know now why I remembered him so 
 well,” continued Jean. ^^He was the only liquor 
 dealer among those I spoke to today, and ignorantly I 
 accosted many, who refused my ticket in a gentle- 
 manly manner. Yes, I have now seen a gentlemanly 
 
THE DAUGHTER OI? A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 63 
 
 liquor dealer. I wonder if I will ever see him again. 
 But see ! Here are the horses, father. Come, let us 
 go,” she said, taking his arm. 
 
 Poor father ! I am sorry for you. It must be a 
 trial to have so strange a child, but really I cannot 
 help it, and I am sure you will forgive me when you 
 remember that I am ^my father’s boy.’ ” 
 
64 : 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 THE NATION^'s DEFENDERS. 
 
 It was one of those prophetic days of early spring 
 when heaven and earth are filled with faint, far prom- 
 ises of the sunshine and verdure of the summer, and 
 when an expectant hush fills all the air, save as now 
 and then a breath of the awakening south wind stirs 
 the faded memories of last autumn’s glories where the 
 dried leaves cluster auiong the thickets or in the fence 
 corners. 
 
 The Thorn carriage occupied by Jean and the 
 coachman, James, was rolling along a stretch of sub- 
 urban road. 
 
 Jean had just left the home of the Crowleys’, and 
 sat in a reverie of sympathy and indignation. Per- 
 sonally she felt that she was absolutely safe from any 
 harm from the traffic in misery and death; but this 
 very fact made her more pitiful and more determined 
 to use what infiuence and power she could command 
 against it. The carriage slowed up a bit where the 
 road divided. 
 
 Which way. Miss Jean ?” 
 
 To the army post, J ames,” and she continued her 
 brown study, seeming to notice nothing of the land- 
 
THE DAUGHTEK OF A REPIJBLieAN. 
 
 65 
 
 scape until they entered the massive iron gates of the 
 reservation. 
 
 Just inside the gates, on either side, heavy cannons 
 were grouped in triangular fashion and surmounted 
 with cones of cannon balls. At regular intervals 
 black sign-boards, bright with gilt lettering, gave 
 notice that just so far and no farther, and just so fast 
 and no faster, the public might travel in this well-ar- 
 ranged institution of the government. 
 
 The drive around the inclosure was a long one, and 
 when the Thom carriage had reached the side farthest 
 removed from the buildings, a sudden jar and crash 
 startled Jean, and suddenly she found herself lying 
 on the roadside. 
 
 Fortunately she was not hurt, and after she had 
 brushed the dust from her eyes and pinned a rent in 
 her skirt she’ found that only a slight break in the car- 
 riage had caused the accident. So after tying the 
 horses to a hitching post at some distance, James 
 pushed the carriage to one side, and with the broken 
 part started to a blacksmith shop at no great distance 
 outside the post, Jean agreeing to wait for him, unless 
 he should be gone too long. 
 
 After James had disappeared behind the trees, 
 Jean seated herself comfortably on a bench near by, 
 and with her head resting against a majestic oak, 
 gazed upward^ at the soft spring sky showing through 
 the brown network of the branches. A bird a great 
 way off circled against the floating clouds for a time 
 and disappeared. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 At one end of the inclosiire the drill ground, check- 
 ered and bare, could be seen. Through the trees the 
 red brick walls of the houses in the officers’ quarters 
 showed, while, looking in another direction, she could 
 see a number of stone buildings with porches running 
 their entire length, onto which opened many doors. 
 
 A little removed from all these was a common 
 frame building, which, judging by the number of 
 soldiers gathered around it, was the popular resort of 
 the post. This was the canteen. 
 
 Jean’s eyes fell with displeasure upon this. It 
 seemed to her like a dark blot upon an otherwise fair 
 picture; like a grave mistake in an otherwise well- 
 ordered institution. 
 
 A couple of peafowl trailed their plumage over the 
 dry brown grass across the way from her, and in the 
 slanting rays of the sun they looked like brilliant 
 jewels against the rough and dingy background. But 
 their harsh notes seemed at variance with their 
 beauty, and this, too, made Jean think of the govern- 
 ment — a government T^orn more beautiful than any 
 other, and reared in its infancy with the care of a 
 child, yet presenting to the world, by its administra- 
 tion, which is a government’s voice, an inconsistency 
 appalling. 
 
 Far from broken axles and torn skirts Jean’s 
 thoughts traveled, until she was brought to a sense of 
 her surroundings by footsteps, and looking up she saw 
 that two soldiers had turned the curve that shut off 
 the view of the main road and were coming toward 
 her. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAlSr. 
 
 67 
 
 One was a thick-set man of about middle age. He 
 had that untidy appearance that marks a slovenly per- 
 son, and will appear even *in a soldier in spite of all 
 wise and well-directed efforts on the part of a govern- 
 ment to keep him neat. His large, light gray, cam- 
 paign hat was pulled down well over his eyes and a 
 short cob pipe was clinched between his teeth. 
 
 The other man was younger and not as heavy. He 
 wore a long coat, open from the neck down, and his 
 cap, set on one side of his head, left his bleared and 
 bloated face in full view. 
 
 As they came nearer the younger man staggered 
 fearfully, and Jean knew that he was intoxicated. 
 A feeling, half fear and half loathing, took possession 
 of her as these two ill-visaged privates came nearer ; 
 but supposing they would pass, she kept her seat./ 
 
 Take-a-hic-your pipe-a-hic-out, in-a-hic-the pres- 
 ence of-a-hic-ladies,” the man in the long cloak said. 
 
 The thick-set man took his pipe from his teeth and 
 knocked the ashes out against the palm of his hand. 
 
 They were directly in front of Jean now. 
 
 The man in the long cloak made a tottering bow and 
 addressed her. 
 
 May a-hic we sit down 
 
 Certainly,^’ said J ean, the blood rushing to her 
 face at their boldness, and she hurriedly started to her 
 feet. 
 
 Keep-a-hic-your seat and-a-hic-don’t get agitated ; 
 we’re-a-hic-gentle-mench.’^ 
 
68 
 
 THE DAUGHTEK OE A EEPUBLICAH. 
 
 The thick-set man had already seated himself, and 
 the other man followed his example, forcing Jean to 
 a place by his side. 
 
 Judging the thick-set man to be the least intoxi- 
 cated and more decent, she appealed to him for pro- 
 tection. The lower part only of his face was visible, 
 but she saw that he laughed. 
 
 He don^t mean no harm. Keep still and he’ll go 
 on about his business,” he assured her. 
 
 Jean’s face blazed and her heart beat with the force 
 of four. 
 
 The tall man emptied his mouth of tobacco juice 
 and other fluids and substances, and the sickening 
 mixture fell so close to Jean’s foot that h^r boot w^as 
 spattered. Then he wiped the dribbles on the back 
 of his hand and turned to her. ' 
 
 He bent so close that his hot, foul breath struck her 
 with staggering force and his bloated face almost 
 touched her cheek. 
 
 You’re-a-hic-a little peach,” he said, with a leer, 
 and-a-hic-I’m-a-hic-a going to k-k-kiss you.” 
 
 It was then Jean screamed with all her might, and 
 at the same moment a man sprang to her rescue from 
 a light buggy that had rounded the bend of the drive 
 unobserved. 
 
 The thick-set man suddenly disappeared, but the 
 other soldier, either too drunk for rapid movement or 
 too muddled to understand the gravity of the situa- 
 tion, only rose to his feet and stood leering at J ean 
 with disgusting admiration. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 69 
 
 The next instant he was felled to the earth and a 
 broad-shouldered man stood over him ready to render 
 a second blow if occasion demanded. 
 
 The soldier made an attempt to rise. 
 
 Lie there, you brute/’ the man cried, hotly, and 
 the drunken fellow obeyed. 
 
 i^ice-a-hic-way to treat a-hic-man that’s protect- 
 
 ing-a-hic-the-a-hic-honor-a-hic, the honor of ” he 
 
 muttered. 
 
 But the gentleman turned to the woman, and Jean, 
 trembling with fear and indignation, with crimson 
 cheeks and flashing eyes, looked a second time into 
 the face of the gentlemanly liquor dealer. 
 
 I am ^0 glad you came !” she gasped, and held out 
 her hand to him. 
 
 As they turned to his buggy the gentleman cast a 
 glance back at the prostrate soldier, who had crawled 
 behind a bush to sleep until removed to the guard- 
 house. 
 
 Such creatures are a disgrace to a civilized gov- 
 ernment,” he exclaimed, with ill-concealed wrath. 
 
 Our government is a disgrace to itself,” she 
 added. It creates such creatures by a legal process, 
 and yonder is the factory,” and she pointed in the di- 
 rection of the canteen. 
 
 Canteen beer — canteen beer,” she began again, 
 with warmth, but stopped, for she knew that she was 
 very much excited and that she might not speak 
 wisel3\ 
 
70 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 If she had opened an argument with the gentleman 
 at her side she would have found that he was well 
 posted with the old arguments about the canteen be- 
 ing an institution to keep the soldiers from the greed 
 of evil saloons outside the different posts, but her com- 
 panion respected her silence, and did not speak until 
 they had passed the great iron gate, when it became 
 necessary. 
 
 Now,’^ said he, ‘‘ if you will direct the way, and 
 have no objections, it will give me pleasure to see you 
 safely home.’^ 
 
 I am Miss Thorn,^’ said Jean, giving him her ad- 
 dress. 
 
 Miss Thorn ? Perhaps you are related to Judge 
 Thorn r 
 
 I am,’^ replied Jean, smiling. 
 
 That is nice. I have had the pleasure of meet- 
 ing the judge, and I do not know a man whom I would 
 rather oblige. He is a man all men honor.’^ 
 
 I am his daughter,’^ J ean said, proudly, and I 
 assure you my father will feel under lasting obliga- 
 tions to you for your kindness to me this afternoon, 
 Mr. 
 
 Allison,’’ the gentleman said. 
 
 Allison ?” It was Jean’s turn to look surprised. 
 
 Yes, madam. Allison — Gilbert Allison.” 
 
 Hot of the firm of Allison, Russell & Joy 
 
 The same, madam.” 
 
 She looked at him with mingled wonder and regret. 
 The firm name of Allison, Russell & Joy to her mind 
 
THE DAUGHTEE OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 71 
 
 was a synonym for heartless destruction of happiness 
 and life. The traffic itself was a great evil generality, 
 and as such met condemnation. But in generalities, 
 as in mountain ranges, there are specific points that 
 tower out distinctively for consideration. Such a 
 pinnacle of iniquity this liquor firm had seeiqed to 
 Jean to be since her acquaintance with the Crowleys. 
 
 You must be mistaken,’^ she observed at length. 
 
 Gilbert Allison had been amused before. Now he 
 laughed. If I am mistaken, life has been a vast 
 mistake,’’ he said, for I have supposed myself to be 
 this same Allison for over thirty years. But why do 
 you think so ?” 
 
 Jean shook her head sadly. 
 
 I do not understand it at all,” she said, gravely. 
 
 I beg your pardon ; but if you will explain to me 
 the trouble, perhaps I may be able to enlighten your 
 understanding.” 
 
 I do not understand how the same person can be 
 so kind and yet so cruel. I do not understand how 
 one person can risk his life to save a life — for per- 
 haps you saved mine to-day — and yet cause death, and 
 you have been the cause of death.” 
 
 Jean spoke slowly and looked grave. 
 
 Mr. Allison felt like laughing again, but politely 
 
 refrained. 
 
 * 
 
 “ I have been accused of a number of things in my 
 life,” he said, good-naturedly, “ hut, until to-day, 
 murder has been omitted from the list.” 
 
72 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 There are different modes of procedure — but 
 murder is murder after all 
 
 Certainly, but I was not aware that I had been 
 connected with a ^procedure.^ ’’ 
 
 Men deal out slow death for gold and trust its 
 clinking rattle to still the groans and cryings that 
 they cause.’’ Jean spoke reflectively, as if to her- 
 self. In savage countries where there is no Chris- 
 tianity, where all is black, human life is sometimes 
 offered as a sacrifice to gods. Here in Christian 
 America an altar is piled high with mother hearts and 
 manhood and immortal souls. 
 
 This sacrifice goes on unceasingly; the altar fires 
 are never out, and the wail of the little ones and the 
 groans of the crushed that go up from this great altar 
 only cause this god to laugh. 
 
 This god is made of atoms. EVEEY ATOM IS 
 A MAY. 
 
 All this time the Christian men of this Christian 
 nation stand around in a great circle, weeping and 
 calling on a Christian’s God to hasten the day when 
 this other god shall be ground to dust, meantime 
 mocking their God by legalizing this monstrous thing 
 with their ballots.” 
 
 Mr. Allison had probably never heard a yoitng lady 
 talk exactly as this one talked, and yet he enjoyed it, 
 and watched the motion of her hand as she used it to 
 impress her words. 
 
 I am afraid I do not understand you even yet,” 
 he said, when she paused. Do you refer to the 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 73 
 
 tariif or seal fisheries or female suffrage or war or 
 what 
 
 I refer to the rum power in America. That is 
 the god I mean. The most heartless, depraved mo- 
 nopoly on earth, yet men and governments grovel in 
 the dust at its feet and cringe like dogs before its 
 power.’’ 
 
 Mr. Allison was silent, and she continued, pres- 
 ently, turning her face to him. 
 
 It has always seemed to me that the firm of Al- 
 lison, Russell & Joy was an important part of this 
 great iniquity; partly, I presume, because I happen 
 to be acquainted with a family that has been utterly ' 
 destroyed by that firm. Tell me truly — ^have they, 
 have YOU never heard wails* and cries and bitter 
 prayers in the stillness of the night? Have you 
 never felt the burden of your awful sin ?” 
 
 Mr. Allison smiled. 
 
 I am sure,” he said, have never heard any 
 weeping or wailing that I have been aware of, and 
 really I hope to be pardoned, but the burden that you 
 speak of has failed to make itself felt.” 
 
 Well, you will hear it some day. Even legal, li- 
 censed murder will have its reckoning time. You 
 will see a face some day; you will hear a voice that 
 will haunt you like the wail of a lost soul.” 
 
 Mr. Allison shrugged his shoulders as if in appre- 
 hension. 
 
 I hope not,” he said ; but Miss Thorn, I am 
 afraid 'you do not enjoy the society of a liquor 
 dealer.” 
 
74 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 On general principles, no. And. yet I have en- 
 joyed yours very much this afternoon, you may be 
 sure. I thank you for it, and — I am sorry that you 
 are a %an atom’ of the great iniquity.” 
 
 I am sorry that you are sorry,” he answered, and 
 then the Thorn homestead rose in view. 
 
 I never was so frightened in my life,” Jean said, 
 as they drove in front of the gate. It seems that no 
 one is safe from insult and injury in a land where 
 liquor is a legalized drink. I never thought that I 
 should fall a victim to it.” 
 
 Or be rescued by a liquor dealer.” 
 
 That is true,” and Jean laughed merrily. 
 
 Then she thanked him again, and for half a minute 
 he held her small, gloved hand in his, as he assisted 
 her from the buggy. 
 
 It is I who am grateful that Fate allowed me to 
 be the knight.” Then he lifted his hat gallantly, and 
 Jean was gone, but her parting smile stayed with him. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 75 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 THE JUDGE MAKES A DISCOVERY. 
 
 After the adventure at the army post Mr. Allison 
 called not infrequently at the home of the Thorns^ 
 and though, of course, cordially received by both Jean 
 and her father, nearly always succeeded in leaving 
 Jean thoroughly vexed with him. She made speeches 
 and drew statistics for him, enough in strength and 
 numbers to convert the traffic itself, and was generally 
 rewarded for her pains by an amused look and a good- 
 natured laugh. He seemed to her to be. asleep, sound 
 asleep ; and try as best she might, it seemed impossible 
 to awaken him ; and yet she looked for his visits and 
 enjoyed the task she had set herself about more than 
 she would have cared to admit. 
 
 The fact was, Mr. Allison had been born asleep as 
 far as his relation with the liquor question was con- 
 cerned. From his father he inherited his interest in 
 the business firm of which he was the junior member, 
 and having been brought up in this atmosphere, he 
 neither knew nor cared for any other. A man possess- 
 ing even half a portion of real integrity is so rarely 
 found engaged in the liquor business that this man’s 
 character was often spoken of. Whether he was 
 
76 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 honest may be doubted^ but certain it was^ he was not 
 bidding for the church vote by making promises and 
 prayers. Yet the cloak of respectability that he wore 
 made him ten times more dangerous than one of baser 
 worth would have been ; but his cloak, it is well to re- 
 member, differed only in color from the cloak worn 
 by unnumbered men, to-day posing before a long- 
 suffering people as Christian leaders. 
 
 In spite of the indifference of Mr. Allison and the 
 vexation of Jean, each felt the subtle power of attrac- 
 tion in the other that neither could explain. 
 
 One night when sitting closer than usual to her 
 side, he calmly possessed himself of one of her hands. 
 
 You are quite an enigma to me,’’ he said. How 
 can you be a bit comfortable in such close proximity 
 to a representative of the ungodly traffic ?” 
 
 I cannot,” she answered, pulling at her hand. 
 
 I will go away.” 
 
 Will you ?” and he tightened the pressure of his 
 fingers. 
 
 Jean dropped her head on her free hand and was 
 very still. Mr. Allison, watching her, presently saw 
 a tear-drop on her cheek. 
 
 He put his arm around her, and would have drawn 
 her to him, but with a firm, gentle touch, the meaning 
 of which was unmistakable, she pushed his arm aside, 
 and, rising, stood before him. 
 
 The faint trace of tears still marked her eyes, and 
 her voice was a trifle unsteady. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. T7 
 
 “ Mr. Allison, we cannot be even friends! We 
 jnst cannot ! You are a ‘ man atom of the great 
 iniquity.’ ” 
 
 She crossed the room, and, raising a shade, stood 
 looking absently into the moonlight. Gilbert Allison 
 leaned forward and seemed trying to obtain the solu- 
 tion of some mystery from the outlines of her figure. 
 
 She still stood there when Judge Thorn entered 
 from an adjoining room, and while he conversed with 
 her liquor-dealer lover, Jean left the room to return 
 no more that night. 
 
 But Mr. Allison was not thus to be disposed of. 
 
 A few evenings passed, and he was again an- 
 nounced a visitor at the Thorn home, and Jean ap- 
 peared really very glad to see him, considering that 
 they were never to be friends. After a few moments 
 of casual conversation he took from his pocket an 
 evening paper, folded so that she could not miss the 
 reading, and held it before her eyes. 
 
 From the item thus displayed she learned that Gil- 
 bert Allison, late of the firm of Allison, Bussell & 
 Joy, had withdrawn his interest in the firm to be 
 placed in other investments. 
 
 The conversation that followed the reading of this 
 announcement, while confidential, was not a long one, 
 but at its close Gilbert Allison knew more of that 
 firmness born of a woman’s conviction than he had 
 ever dreamed. 
 
78 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 Judge Thorn looked comfortable in his leather 
 chair, his slippered feet on a hassock and a new book 
 in his hand. At any rate, Jean thought so, as she 
 studied him from between the parted curtains, but 
 she was relentless. Stealing softly behind him, she 
 pressed her hands over his eyes. The judge started, 
 and the young lady laughed merrily. 
 
 Then she tried to steal away his book, but he held 
 it. 
 
 Let me put it up, father, I want to talk to you.’’ 
 
 The judge still held the book. 
 
 Then I will say ^please.’ ” 
 
 Is it to be a political conversation ?” he asked, 
 gravely. 
 
 Not a breath of politics about it,” she answered. 
 
 Any statistics to be brought in ?” he questioned 
 further. 
 
 J ean laughed again. 
 
 Really, father,” she said, I think I may hope to 
 win you yet. When a judge, and a Republican at 
 that, finds it hard to vindicate his party’s doings, and 
 finds statistics overwhelmingly against his party’s 
 policy on moral questions, he will look for better 
 things in better places. At this period of his po- 
 litical transmigration I believe a man is more to be 
 pitied for misplaced confidence than blamed for tardy 
 understanding. No, father, not a statistic to-night, 
 unless you compel me to bring them out in self-de- 
 fense.” 
 
 J udge Thorn slowly released his book. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 79 
 
 Now/^ said Jean triumphantly, we are ready 
 for a nice long talk, that is, if you feel equal to the 
 task of talking. What I have to say will not take 
 long. It is about a little interview between Mr. Al- 
 lison and — Judge Thorn’s daughter, and if I had been 
 less of a ^crank,’ I suppose you would have had an- 
 other son-in-law in prospect.” 
 
 Yes ?” questioned the judge. Then I have been 
 mistaken when I have thought at times that you cared 
 for him.” 
 
 Jean remained silent a few minutes, then looked 
 up quickly into her father’s face. 
 
 You are my best, my dearest friend, father. I 
 will tell you truly. You have not been mistaken. I 
 love Gilbert Allison, and I cannot help it to save my 
 life.” 
 
 When Judge Thorn spoke again his voice had 
 changed somewhat. He spoke as if his words were 
 tjscaping from beneath a weight. 
 
 Better than you do me, Jean ?” 
 
 She did not answer at once; then she caught her 
 father’s eye, and smiled as she said : 
 
 You wan^t the truth, the whole truth, and nothing 
 but the truth ?” 
 
 Go on,” was the judge’s quiet reply. 
 
 Then it is ^yes,’ father.” 
 
 A shadow passed over the face of the judge for an 
 instant that carried Jean back to her childhood days, 
 when she used to wonder, as she mused, why it was 
 that her father always looked so sad. 
 
80 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 You have all the sweet ways of your mother, 
 child, said the old man ; and in you I know the 
 traits and intellect that I had hoped to nurture in the 
 boy. For years you have been my comrade — ^my best 
 loved daughter. I am growing old, now, quite old, 
 and' you must leave me.’^ 
 
 As he spoke he ran his fingers through his hair, as 
 if in its thinness and fading color he could discern ad- 
 vancing years. 
 
 J ean caught the hand that hung over the arm of the 
 chair between her two and pressed it to her cheek. 
 
 You make me happy, father!’^ she whispered. 
 
 Do you remember long ago I told you that you 
 would some day be glad I was your boy ? And so you 
 are. Perhaps it is because I am so like you — I only 
 wish I knew I was — or perhaps I have always loved 
 you best, and yet I have not loved you enough, 
 father.’’ 
 
 Yes, child. Yes, enough to drive away a grief 
 and make me happy.” 
 
 Then, remember, father ; remember always and 
 forever, that I do not love you any less. If I have 
 come to love another more, I tell you truly, I cannot 
 help it. It has come to me — just come and — come 
 and come ; and I have fought it every step of the way. 
 A few times I have pictured to myself such a man as 
 I might some time call my husband. He has been 
 learned and clean and upright, with an irrepressible 
 spirit of patriotism, hindered by no party ties that 
 bind to money instead of moral questions ; daunted by 
 
THE DAtTGHTEE OF A EEPUBLICAN. 
 
 81 
 
 no fear, and bound by no memory of a past ; and the^ 
 man has come, and he is — a gentlemanly liquor 
 dealer. But I will not leave you, father. I have nO’ 
 thought other than to stay here.’’ 
 
 This information did not seem to impress the 
 judge. 
 
 You say so, Jean. You mean so; but you will 
 be married, and a wife’s duties come before a 
 daughter’s.” 
 
 Jean laughed again. 
 
 You look almost as disconsolate as Mr. Allison 
 did the last time I saw him. Cheer up ! I am not 
 going to be married that I know of.” 
 
 No ?” 
 
 No, father.” 
 
 ^^ Why, Jean?” 
 
 I see you know that Mr. Allison is a liquor dealer 
 no longer, or you would hardly ask.” 
 
 I know. And I know that he sacrifices some- 
 thing in getting out of it at this time. He is a clean 
 man, and though his name has been connected with 
 the interest, that has been all. One could hardly im- 
 agine him standing behind a bar.” 
 
 He said something like that in his own defense. 
 Let me see — ^he said the national politics was the 
 gi’eat mother of all lesser political plays, and that at 
 such elections he had cast his vote just as you and 
 your preacher have always done. Therefore, as you 
 were temperance men, so he was a temperance man. 
 How was that for argument ?” 
 
82 the daughter of a republican. 
 
 Judge Thorn laughed. 
 
 ^^Well, I should not wonder if he were as much of 
 a temperance man as some other folks, after all.^^ 
 
 ^The more shame for the ^other folks/ said Jean, 
 a touch of sternness in her voice. 
 
 ^^Have it that way if you wish, hut to the original 
 question. I am in no hurry for you to marry, but I 
 suppose you will some time, and Allison is a square 
 man. What he has done in this business move he has 
 done not because he has changed his views on some 
 matters, but all for the love of a woman, and that 
 means much, my girl, these days of fortune hunters 
 and deceivers.^^ 
 
 ^^All for the love of a woman,^^ Jean repeated 
 softly to herself. ^^That is what he said.^^ 
 
 They were both silent a few seconds. 
 
 ^^You have not answered my question, Jean.^^ 
 
 ^^Ah! I forgot, father. You asked me why I 
 could not promise to be the wife of Mr. Allison. I 
 will tell you, as I told him, and I think you will un- 
 derstand as he did. 
 
 ^Tf I ever have a husband, he must do right from 
 an honest conviction of right, and because humanity 
 and justice and God demand the right, and never for 
 the ^ove of a woman,^ although that is a beautiful 
 temptation.^^ 
 
 Judge Thorn looked inquiringly at his daughter, 
 and she continued: 
 
 ^Tle was not prepared for this, I think, but he 
 understood what I meant, and said that I asked of 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 33 
 
 him the impossible; that it was impossible for him to 
 see the liquor traffic in the light that I do. 
 
 ^^But I am sure, father, that the underlying prin- 
 ciple of my idea is right, and God makes it possible 
 for all men to see the right, if they seek to.^^ 
 
 Jean had risen and stood before her father, her 
 face aglow and her eyes shining. 
 
 This mood passed shortly, and she returned to her 
 chair. She clasped her hands behind her head and 
 began again softly, as if speaking to herself: 
 
 ^^And then — then he sat down in a chair by the 
 window, with his face turned away. It was very 
 still in the room. 
 
 "T went and stood close by his side, but I hardly 
 dared to speak, it all seemed so strange somehow. I 
 wanted — Oh, you do not know how I longed to throw 
 myself into his arms, just to try to wake him; but you 
 know ^propriety.^ 
 
 After a time — perhaps an hour, perhaps a min- 
 ute — he suddenly rose and kissed me on the forehead. 
 
 ^Goodby, dear,^ he said, T think I had better not 
 come any more,^ and he left the room without another 
 word. 
 
 ^^After the door had closed behind him and I heard 
 him stepping down the walk, I put both my hands 
 over my heart, just so, and held it tight, for it seemed 
 that it would bound out and go with him."^^ 
 
 They sat in silence a little while after Jean ceased 
 speaking, and then she stepped behind her father’s 
 chair and dropped her arms around his neck. 
 
84 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 No, father, you shall never be left alone as long 
 as this big world holds Jean. Lonesomeness is so big 
 and dreary!’’ 
 
 She pressed her lips to his forehead and turned 
 away. 
 
 Had such a favor been meted out to the disconso- 
 late Mr. Allison, he would no doubt have been imme- 
 diately transported to a state of unalloyed happiness. 
 Not so with the judge. The very act, the very words, 
 told him that the woman’s affections had been di- 
 vided, and the streak of selfishness that runs through 
 all humanity had not been overlooked in his make-up. 
 
 Are you not really ashamed of me, father ? Just 
 think of it! Me, Jean Thom, of sound mind and 
 adult years, falling in love with a liquor dealer ! It 
 is too strange to believe, and yet I believe the situation 
 would be perfectly delightful if — if — ^well, if I were 
 not ^my father’s boy.’ But I will survive, let it be 
 hoped, and if this maddening, sickening, altogether 
 unmanageable love one reads of had rushed upon me 
 like a whirlwind, it would be the same. The man I 
 marry must not be a ^man atom of the great iniquity,’ 
 not even to the extent of his vote.” 
 
 And lest she* should mar the impression she hoped 
 to leave upon her father, Jean hurried from the room, 
 waving her hand to him as she passed through the 
 door. 
 
 **** **** 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAISr. 
 
 85 
 
 In her own room she sat down to think. Mechan- 
 ically she unbound the coils of red-brown hair that 
 crowned her head, and holding the quaintly carved 
 silver pins which seemed a part of her identity in her 
 hand, she began a march to and fro across the room. 
 There was no smile on her face, rather a pained, un- 
 natural look that her dearest friend would not have 
 recognized. Presently she stopped. 
 
 Raising her hands, the shining hair rippling over 
 her shoulders like a garment, she lifted her face 
 heavenward. 
 
 My Father!’^ she whispered, brokenly, he is 
 a«;leep. Touch his eyes with kindly fingers that the 
 scales may drop away. Put the hollow of thy hand 
 around his heart and kindle there the love that means 
 the brotherhood of man, for I love him — I love him 
 Even as she stood, with her face upturned from the 
 wealth of flowing hair, the man of her prayer was in 
 the toils of fate, seeing a ^^face’^ and hearing a voice 
 that touched his ear and clung to his heart, ^fiike the 
 wail of a lost soul/^ 
 
THE DAUGHTER QJ A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 87 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 WHAT FOR.” 
 
 Had Jean Thorn been less interested in the family 
 of Damon Crowley she might have thought it impos- 
 sible to keep track of them as they moved about. Mr. 
 Crowley reformed every time he got drunk, and got 
 drunk every time he reformed. At such times he 
 made the living place he called home, whether in the 
 filthy garret or rickety shanty, a bedlam. At the 
 present period of their existence the Crowleys were 
 living in a forlorn hovel on the outskirts of the city. 
 
 Mr. Crowley thought himself lucky if he chanced 
 to be about when one of Miss Thorn’s visits took place, 
 for she paid well for the plain work Mrs. Crowley did, 
 and he always came in for a share. The time had 
 been when this man would have blushed at the thought 
 of asking his wife, or, indeed, any one, for help, but 
 that time had gradually gone by as his manhood dis- 
 solved itself in drink. Now he could whine and beg 
 and, not being successful that way, curse and beat to 
 gain his end. He wanted money for whisky worse 
 than ever now, and had less, but the burning in his 
 stomach grew no less to suit the impoverished condi- 
 tion of his purse. 
 
88 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 The disease caused by the legalized drink traffic 
 was eating his life away little by little^ and as the fire 
 ‘ burned it called for more fuel. 
 
 One night when every little gland and fibre in his 
 vrhole being and all the great ulcers in his diseased 
 stomach seemed like fierce flames cutting and licking 
 and torturing him, half-drunk, he staggered from one 
 grog shop to another, begging for something to drink. 
 
 He had hung around the shanty home until he was 
 almost sure that Miss Thorn would not come, then 
 had started out to try his chances. . He had begged a 
 little, had pawned a garment belonging to another for 
 a little more, and yet the maddening thirst was not 
 quenched. 
 
 It was growing late. He made a circuit of his old 
 haunts, but it was useless — ^no money, no drink. For 
 his pleading he was mocked. For his curses he was 
 struck and put out. He staggered toward home, the 
 stinging fire within him quickening his pace. One 
 hope remained. Perhaps Miss Thorn had been there 
 after he had gone. Perhaps, hidden away in the lit- 
 tle box, he might find a few pennies — enough for this 
 time. 
 
 The houses that he passed were for the most part 
 dark, except where some low place cast its straggling 
 light into the night. He hurried on, stumbling now 
 and then. Ho time could be more suitable for him. 
 He would find the family, what there was left of it, 
 asleep. He would sneak in like a cat and find the 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 89 
 
 box — perhaps the pennies. He rubbed his hot hands 
 nervously together in anticipation. 
 
 It was not difficult to get into the house, and he 
 found it stiU and dark. Cautiously he tiptoed to the 
 window and ran his fingers over the casing above it. 
 Nothing but dust. Next he tried the hole in the 
 chimney. Here his unsteady fingers grasped some- 
 thing he thought to be the box, but it proved to be only 
 a loose brick. Growing impatient, he went to the 
 cupboard and fumbled in the corner. No box. He 
 was getting reckless now. Taking a match from his 
 pocket he drew it across the wall. It sputtered and 
 cast a ray long enough for him to find the lamp, which 
 he lit. 
 
 The little boy Johnnie, in a bed close by^ stirred 
 slightly, rolled over a couple of times, and sat up in 
 bed and opened his eyes. Mr. Crowley, having lost 
 all control of himself, was noisily peering into "every 
 nook and cranny. As the father moved nearer, the 
 boy crept closer to his mother, and, huddling by her 
 side, began to cry. It was when he heard the boy’s 
 cry that the fire within him licked up the last of his 
 manhood and the Devil had full sway. He set the 
 lamp down with a bang and sprang toward the bed. 
 The boy threw his arms around his mother and gave 
 a cry of terror. 
 
 Mamma ! O mamma ! Hold me tight ! Don’t 
 let him get me ! O mamma ! mamma ! mamma ! ” 
 The mother held the child close, but the man had 
 seized him. 
 
90 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 They struggled for a minute — a madman’s strength 
 and a devil’s cunning against a mother’s love — ^un- 
 equal struggle ! 
 
 The man — a demon now — ^had the child. 
 
 He cast his eye around the room and picked up a 
 knotty piece of wood. The boy pulled frantically 
 back toward his mother, trembling and screaming, but 
 the die was cast. 
 
 A volley of oaths burst from the drunken fiend’s 
 lips. 
 
 Not much this time ! No help now, till I’m done 
 with you. Damn you ! Stand up,” and he gave the 
 boy a blow that caused him to twist with pain, but he 
 steadied his voice to ask : 
 
 What for, • What for ?” But the words 
 were lost in screams, for the blows kept falling. 
 
 Mrs. Crowley rushed up and caught his uplifted 
 arm. 
 
 You will kill the child! You are mad. Help I 
 Somebody help ! ” she cried ; but no help came. 
 Drunken rows are a part of our civilization. 
 
 The boy had succeeded in getting away, but the un- 
 equal struggle was soon at an end, and Mrs. Crowley 
 was struck to the floor by a heavy blow. 
 
 The father dragged the terror-stricken little fellow 
 from behind the bed. 
 
 Come ! Damn you ! I’m not done yet I I’ll 
 teach you to be scared of your dad and to yell like an 
 idiot when I come into my own house,” and the blows 
 fell rapidly. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 91 
 
 On the little hands when they were raised to pro- 
 tcct the head, on the head when the hands dropped 
 down in pain, on the legs when the body twisted in 
 agony, on the back when the body bent to shield the 
 legs, and the childish voice broke through the screams 
 at intervals : 
 
 What for ? Oh, what for 
 Mrs. Crowley looked around the room for some- 
 thing with which to fight the man. She seized an 
 iron frying-pan and struck him with all the force she 
 could summon, but the blow was insufficient. 
 
 He loosed the child only long enough to push his 
 wife violently to the wall and choke her until she 
 gasped and grew dizzy, adding a couple of blows as a 
 finishing touch, and after tossing her weapon from 
 the window again turned his attention to the child. 
 
 Hot done yet! Ho! Hot done! Take this — 
 and this — and this,’^ and heavy blows sounded. 
 
 Oh, papa ! tell me what for, and ITl never, never 
 do it any more. Please, papa, what for?’’ and the 
 child raised his terror-stricken face to his father’s, but 
 the brute struck the little upturned face. 
 
 Ho — ^you won’t do it again when I get done. 
 I’m not done yet. Hot done.” 
 
 Mrs. Crowley again sprang upon the madman, 
 and, drawing her fingers tightly around his neck, 
 threw her whole force into the grasp, but he loosened 
 it. Then he kicked her out the door and bolted it 
 fast 
 
92 
 
 THE DAUGHTEE OF A EEPUBLICAH. 
 
 The child had fallen to the floor, but partly ^rose 
 as the father returned. 
 
 “ Not done yet — no — ^not done,” and he struck the 
 poor, bleeding body many blows. 
 
 The boy sank back on the floor. His screams were 
 ended; but as he lay there he still moaned, ‘‘What 
 for ?” 
 
 Then the moaning ceased, the eyelids quivered and 
 the breath grew faint. 
 
 But even then his father had not exercised enough 
 of his “personal liberty.” The imps of hell hissed 
 him on. The torturing Are within him leaped higher 
 and higher, searing his soul. He bent low over the 
 body and beat it still, till the tender bones crushed 
 under the blows. Then throwing the knotty stick, 
 quivering with his own child’s blood, into a corner, 
 with a fearful scream the murderer dashed out into 
 the night. 
 
 Then the mother crept back, but it was too late. 
 The little life had gone. From somewhere out of the 
 mysterious, breezy night, perhaps, the spirit of Mag- 
 gie had come, and had taken the soul of her poor 
 brother to a city where pain and tears are unknown. 
 
 But another voice had been added to the chorus of 
 suffering children as by the million they cry out in 
 their pain till the appeal of outraged childhood goes 
 thundering and reverberating into the ear of the Al- 
 mighty Father, while he writes the “ What for ” of 
 their wailing protest in the book of his remembrance 
 as the record unto the day of Christian America’s 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A EEPUBLICAH. 9^ 
 
 reckoniiigj in letters that burn brighter as the curse 
 waxes worse and worse. 
 
 Against the name of the church, too, as she wraps 
 her righteous robes around herself and will not, in her 
 dignity and purity, set her mighty foot on the neck of 
 the curse, while drunkards by unnumbered thousands 
 stagger under her colored glass windows to Hell, he 
 writes WHAT FOR ? and the letters burn on. 
 
 Against the name of the Christian whose vote 
 makes strong the party that legalizes the saloon and 
 the drunkard he writes WHAT FOR ? ” 
 
 What man shall stand in the presence of the Holy 
 One, when the books are opened, and tell WHAT 
 FOR* 
 
94 
 
 THE DAUGHTER uF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 CHAPTEPt IX. 
 
 GILBERT ALLISON HEARS A VOICE. 
 
 It was this night that two travelers were journey- 
 ing across a bit of suburban country toward their city 
 homes. They were out later than they had expected 
 to be, perhaps. At any rate, it was somewhere close 
 to the hour of midnight and they were approaching 
 an old graveyard. 
 
 As they neared the ancient burying ground Mr. Al- 
 lison, for he was one of the riders, became less talka- 
 tive, and rode closer to his friend, a young man of 
 about his own age. 
 
 ^^Hist, Sammie! Didn’t you hear something? 
 Ah! Xow it has gone again. You were not quick 
 enough. Keep your ear open. At the turning of 
 the wind it may come again.” 
 
 ^^Well, by grabs! Gillie, where will you end?” 
 laughed the other. ^Tirst love, now ghosts. Lis- 
 tening for spooks because we happen to be passing 
 the burying spot of some of our ancestors. Allow me 
 to alight and pick a switch for the poor boy to defend 
 himself with when the ghosts set upon him.” 
 
 ^^Sammie! Sammie! I hear it again! It’s com- 
 ing on the breeze. Listen now !” 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. ^5 
 
 Gilbert Allison stopped his horse and leaned eager- 
 ly forward. Sammie listened^ but was again too late. 
 The dead leaves rustled close by over the sunken 
 graves; the tall^ bare trees waved their skeleton arms, 
 while the breeze died away to a long, weary sigh and 
 was gone. 
 
 ^Tt does not come from the cemetery, Sammie, but 
 from beyond. Perhaps it will come again. Listen 
 
 The breeze was coming to them again, and they 
 drew their horses to a halt. 
 
 ^There, Sammie! You did not miss that, did 
 
 your 
 
 They listened a moment longer, but the breeze was 
 dying away and with it the cry, whatever it was. 
 
 ^^The Dickens! Allison, let us hurry on. This 
 is too ghostly a night to tarry. That cry gives me an 
 uneasy feeling to the marrow of my bones.’^ 
 
 They quickened their pace, and rode some distance 
 in silence. The sky seemed growing darker and the 
 wind was rising. A thick clump of trees hard by 
 cast a gloomy shadow across the road, and just as 
 they passed into this the floating clouds covered the 
 face of the moon, and they were in pitchy darkness. 
 
 Suddenly there burst into the black night from 
 somewhere in front of them a most unearthly yell. 
 
 Allison^s horse quivered and Sammie^s gave a vio- 
 lent lurch. 
 
 ^^Heavens, Sammie! What was that?^^ 
 
 ^^Blast the moon!'^ ejaculated Sammie. ^Ttide 
 close to the side of the road. It was near here.^’ 
 
96 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 They had passed the clump of trees, but were still 
 in the dark. All was still save the tiresome moaning 
 of the trees. Then they heard the rapid approach of 
 some man or beast, and the next instant, directly at 
 their sides, there went out onto the night air a succes- 
 sion of blood-curdling yells and barks. 
 
 The horses sprang and danced. 
 
 The moon came out, and in its pale yellow light 
 they saw the creature disappearing down the road. 
 It was the figure of a man, crouching and springing, 
 rather than walking. As he neared the clump of 
 trees he made the night shudder with still wilder and 
 fiercer screams. Then he disappeared down the 
 shadowy road. 
 
 A madman !’’ said Allison. Heavens ! What 
 couldn’t he do to a fellow if he had him to himself 
 Sammie laughed nervously. 
 
 His boots are full of snakes, if I am not mis- 
 taken — but truly a bad fellow. He must have been 
 what we heard back by the cemetery.” 
 
 Ho. Hot such a noise as that. That was a wail- 
 ing cry. Perhaps — ^he surely cannot have had his 
 hand on any human being. Let us hurry on. The 
 devil must be hereabouts to-night.” 
 
 The suburbs seemed again to be asleep. The wind 
 came and went over the rickety homes, sparsely scat- 
 tered, and its moaning was made more dismal by the 
 long-drawn out howl of some sleepless cur. 
 
 At rare intervals a light gleamed from a window. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 97 
 
 One window from which a light shone Gilbert Al- 
 lison and his friend looked into that night, and some- 
 how that window remained always open in the mem- 
 ory of each, with a bright light burning behind it- 
 
 It was a dreary little structure that stood close to 
 the roadside, quite alone. The window was only a 
 square hole, and the feeble light inside flickered as 
 the wind blew through. There had been glass there 
 once, no doubt, but that glass and many other cheap 
 glass windows had gone into a better, richer piece of 
 glass, and that hung in a respectable saloon. 
 
 Reflecting the decanters and* red noses — and broken 
 hearts ? No ! Ah, no ! Their reflection would have 
 injured the trade. They remained where the cheap 
 glass had once been, and it was one of these hearts that 
 Gilbert Allison, late of the Arm of Allison, Russell & 
 Joy, caught a glimpse of as he paused at the open 
 window. 
 
 A woman sat on the floor in the middle of the room. 
 
 A woman of petrified misery. She gazed beyond 
 the surrounding walls into the happy past, the mourn- 
 ful future — into Heaven and Hell, or somewhere. 
 
 Close by her side side lay the still warm body of 
 the boy. She placed her hands over his face, and, 
 feeling the warmth, opened the tattered, bloody little 
 night-dress and pressed her ear over the heart — 
 pressed it closer and closer, but the heart was still. 
 
 She did not cry, this woman. Why should she ? 
 She knew the child was better off. She lifted a 
 corner of her garment and wiped the thick blood from 
 
98 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 the face, then she pressed her lips to the lips, the 
 •cheeks, the forehead, in long, loving, mother kisses. 
 She drooped her head close over the childish body, 
 and drawing the soft arms around her neck held them 
 there. She stroked back the hair, and her hands were 
 bloodstained. 
 
 Resting the child’s body tenderly on the hard floor, 
 she raised her face of misery and her bloodstained 
 hands toward Heaven. 
 
 “ God ! ” she cried. “Look at my hands ! See 
 God! Here it is — ^my baby’s blood. Come, God, 
 and see my boy. He’s getting stiff — ^but come, God 
 — come! See the bruises and the blood! See the 
 face — ^the little face, all full of pain and fear — and 
 feel the crushed bones, God ! He is getting cold- 
 cold— cold ! The boy’s dead !” 
 
 She caught up one of the child’s hands and pressed 
 it convulsively. After a moment’s silence she began 
 again, suddenly, fiercely: 
 
 “ Is there any God ? Where is he ? Where does 
 he stay? Hot with Christians. They have the 
 power, if God were with them, to stop the curse. Ho, 
 not with them. They do not stop it. Ho. They 
 license it, they do. ‘ Woe, woe to him that puts the 
 bottle to his neighbor’s lips.’ They do! They do! 
 But God must be somewhere. God come out of some- 
 where !” 
 
 The wind blew and the light flickered. Allison 
 and Sammie, looking in, seemed riveted to the spot. 
 It was not a pleasant picture, yet they gazed. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 99 
 
 My husband a murderer ! wailed the woman. 
 
 The boy’s blood on his hands ? Lord God ! I 
 never want to see his face again! Have mercy on 
 his soul! Perhaps he cannot help it now — he is a 
 madman. Love him if you can — I loved him once.” 
 
 Something like a sob sounded in the woman’s voice, 
 but she choked it back. After a moment of silence 
 she moved a short distance from the little corpse, and, 
 raising herself upright on her knees, with her hands 
 clasped at arm’s length over her head, she prayed. 
 
 It was not a Christlike prayer — rather the helpless 
 cry of a soul tortured, in the grasp of a Christianized 
 sin. 
 
 Lord God ! Down deep in Hell — away down — 
 down where the fire is hottest, and the black blackest, 
 and the smoke thickest, there let the man be bound 
 forever who covers the business of Hell with a re- 
 spectable covering. There forever let him see my 
 boy’s piteous, quivering face ; let him hear the dying 
 moan and see the red blood ! I know them, God ! 
 You know them, God — ^you know them ! Hear my 
 prayer !” 
 
 Another gust of wind came, nearer and stronger, 
 and the lamp dickered out. It was quiet. Very 
 quiet. So quiet that Allison and Sammie heard the 
 sigh that escaped the woman’s lips. It was a heavy 
 sigh, filled with tears and utter despair. 
 
 A sigh that went farther than all the sighing winds 
 had ever gone. A sigh that was wafted far above to 
 the great God who keeps record of the sighs that come 
 
100 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 up from the hearts of a million drunkards’ wives, and 
 who writes on the balance-sheet: Vengeance is 
 
 mine. I will repay.” 
 
 Some people, one of them an officer, entered the 
 House from the opposite side, and the two travelers, 
 seeing no need for their services, turned away and 
 mounted their horses. 
 
 Mr. Allison was somewhat excited. 
 
 Hanging is too good for^ that brute ! ” he said, 
 loudly. I believe I could stand by and see him 
 roast. Heavens, what a devil ! Poor woman, I wish 
 I had not stopped there to-night.” 
 
 Sammie grunted. Thinking of the place she re- 
 ferred to as the respectable dealer’s future head- 
 quarters ?” he questioned. 
 
 Shut up, will you ! This is no time for joking !” 
 The young man complied with the request of his 
 polite friend, and thought to himself, hut Mr. Allison 
 was no better pleased. He knew that if he had not 
 seen it, it would have been. It really was. He was 
 deeply stirred. And as he rode on through the night 
 he was thinking new and strange thoughts. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 101 
 
 OHAPTEE X. 
 
 THE SIN BURDEN.’’ 
 
 After Gilbert Allison arrived borne from that ride, 
 the ghostly night on which he saw the fruits of a sin- 
 ful traffic in all its horror, he hastily disrobed and 
 turned into bed, hoping to sleep away the unpleasant 
 thoughts and pictures that had possession of his mind ; 
 but no sooner had sleep overtaken him than a face, 
 framed in a halo of red-brown hair, looked down upon 
 him from an eminence; a white hand with a phos- 
 phorescent glow pointed at him, while a voice kept re- 
 peating, to the accompaniment of a childish wail, 
 Man — atom of the great iniquity, man — atom of the 
 great iniquity.” 
 
 In his dream he did not recognize the face nor 
 voice, and yet both seemed strangely familiar to him. 
 
 When daylight came, the face and the white hand 
 and the moaning child went away and the face of the 
 woman whose misery he had looked upon haunted 
 him, and her bitter prayer came to him ih^ snatches. 
 
 The experience was distressing in no small degree 
 to the ease-loving man. He could not analyze his 
 feelings and was not aware that what one strange Ik- 
 tle woman called a ^^sin burden” had fallen with its 
 
102 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 weight upon him. He was in the act of rubbing his 
 eyes before his moral resurrection. 
 
 Damon Crowley was behind the bars for the last 
 time. Perhaps he did not know, at any rate he did 
 not care. He had reached the beginning of the end. 
 
 From the corners of his cell dark faces leered at 
 him ; cruel, sharp claws closed around his limbs and 
 icy fingers grasped his throat — ^yet he was not dead. 
 Outlines of things he saw became to him living 
 creatures of destruction and crouched over him, grin- 
 ning in his face and tearing him to bits — ^yet he was 
 not dead. Snarling beasts sank their fangs into his 
 flesh, a thousand poison insects rushed and swarmed 
 upon him, and he felt the virus of their sting bound- 
 ing through his body — ^yet he lived. 
 
 Slimy serpents wriggled over him, thrusting their 
 forked tongues into his nose and ears, and when he 
 grabbed frantically to tear them away they had gone. 
 
 A fire burned within him and he tore his flesh and 
 hair, while death like a dark shadow hovered nearer 
 and nearer, closing in slowly but surely. The end of 
 Damon Crowley was not as a child falls to sleep nor 
 as a Christian steps into the great beyond. 
 
 It was a time of screams and groans; of frantic 
 clutchings and hard grapplings. Those in neighbor- 
 ing cells were glad for once that the walls were thick 
 and the bolts secure. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 103 
 
 Gilbert Allison imagined he would feel better when 
 he knew that Damon Crowley was securely lodged 
 under lock and key; but such was not the case. The 
 knowledge of this only seemed to press some real or 
 imaginary burden closer to him. Then he imagined 
 that he would perhaps feel at peace with the world 
 and himself when white-robed justice had had her 
 perfect course, and the victim of a nation’s sin had 
 been hung by the neck until dead. But even the 
 news of the tragic death of the murderer did not prove 
 a cure for his nameless and indefinable ill-feeling. 
 
 Then it occurred to him that perhaps his name had 
 not been taken from over the doors of the establish- 
 ment of which he had so long been a part. Being 
 fully resolved to completely sever his connection with 
 the business, he looked upon this as a necessary step, 
 and not without some small hope that it might help a 
 little toward restoring his upset conscience. 
 
 Turning a corner, he raised his eyes. There, in 
 the glow of the full sunlight, blazed the richly- 
 wrought words, Allison, Bussell & Joy.” They 
 looked positively ugly to him and he felt that he had 
 been injured by the other members of the firm. En- 
 tering the establishment to request that the sign be 
 altered he came upon a trio discussing trade items, 
 and the old familiar phraseology fell upon his ears 
 like jangling voices. 
 
 As he passed out an old customer slapped him 
 familiarly on the back and asked after business. 
 Hardly had he escaped this one before another 
 
104 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 grasped his hand and inquired in jovial manner how 
 times were. Then a drummer approached him^ and, 
 on being informed that he was no longer connected 
 with the trade interests, assured him that the trade 
 had suffered a loss. As he halted a moment in front 
 of a hotel, a half-intoxicated man with a tale of woe, 
 because of having been ordered out of the palatial 
 sample room of the late liquor dealer, drew some at- 
 tention to him and increased his feeling of disquiet 
 and irritability. 
 
 Each time he informed his assailant that he had 
 severed his connection with the business, but it was 
 not until the red-headed proprietor of a groggery drew 
 nigh with a grievance, that the last straw had been 
 put upon his already overtaxed nerves and conscience. 
 
 With more than the necessary amount of vigor he 
 declared himself innocent of the business and drop- 
 ped remarks relative to groggeries that would have de- 
 lighted the ear of a temperance lecturer. 
 
 After this series of unpleasant encounters Gilbert 
 Allison betook himself to the office of his friend. Dr. 
 Samuel Thomas, the companion of his memorable 
 ride, for advisement. 
 
 Entering the room without previous announce- 
 ment, he dropped his hat onto a promiscuous pile of 
 books and papers and spread himself on the couch. 
 Here, with his hands clasped under his head, he 
 studied the pattern of the ceiling paper a few seconds 
 before venturing a remark. 
 
 Dr. Sammie, used to moods and fancies, waited. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 105 
 
 Would you do anything for a friend in need, 
 Sammie asked the visitor at length, with a strong 
 emphasis upon the ^‘anything.’’ 
 
 To he sure. Speak out.’’ 
 
 Then laugh.” 
 
 Laugh?” 
 
 Tes, laugh.” 
 
 Laugh ? What about ?” 
 
 Anything or nothing — ^but laugh. I have not 
 heard a suspicion of a laugh in weeks. I have been 
 prowling around in a valley of dry bones, and to save 
 my soul I cannot find my way out. I thought I had 
 just begun the ascent of a slope where smiles are occa- 
 sionally seen, when the hope was shattered by the vul- 
 gar familiarity of a mob belonging to the trade.” 
 
 Dr. Sammie listened to the rather unusual remarks 
 of his friend, and as he recounted the day’s experi- 
 ences in his own original way the amused look on 
 his face drew itself into definite shape around his 
 mouth, and, when Allison had delivered himself of 
 something unlisual in the way of a tirade on dive- 
 keepers, the climax had been reached, and the listener 
 rested his head against the b^ck of his chair and 
 laughed in a manner sufficiently hearty to have satis- 
 fied the request of his friend. 
 
 Soured on the fraternity, have you ?” he asked. 
 Gilbert Allison slowly raised himself to a sitting 
 posture and, with an elbow resting on either knee, 
 transferred his study from the ceiling pattern to that 
 of the carpet. Tie did not answer the question. 
 
106 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 Crowley died/’ he at length observed. 
 
 Yes — and I should think yon would be the man 
 to be glad. I imagine the after feeling must be any- 
 thing but pleasant when one has for years helped fit a 
 fellow creature for the gallows.” 
 
 Gilbert Allison frowned between his hands and 
 spoke sharply. 
 
 It is a legal business/’ he said. 
 
 Legal ? Yes, legal — ^but you have sense enough 
 to know that if it is legal for you to sell, it must be 
 legal for some other fellow to buy ; and if some other 
 fellow spends his money for liquor he had the right 
 to drink it, and you can hardly be unreasonable 
 enough to hold a man responsible for what he 
 does when the lining has been eaten out of his stomach 
 and his brain soaked with alcohol. Such a man is a 
 legal murderer, and the custom that breeds him 
 should take care of the finished production. 
 
 Mind you, I am not giving a temperance lecture ; 
 that is out of my line. But it has always seemed to 
 me to be a rotten sort of justice that hangs a man for 
 doing what the government gives him a license to do.” 
 Mr. Allison looked up suddenly. 
 
 Do you suppose, Sammie, that Deacon Brown 
 knows the Traffic as it is — as we have seen it ?” 
 
 His church machinery grinds out resolutions an- 
 nually of such a warlike nature that I am inclined to 
 believe he does,” said the doctor grimly. 
 
 He has been in every political caucus that I have, 
 for the last five years and has voted as I have from 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 107 
 
 constable to President. I have voted for the interests 
 of the Trade. What has he been voting for ? ’’ de- 
 manded Allison. 
 
 I’ll give it up/’' said Sammie, dusting the ashes 
 from the end of his cigar ; but the Lord have mercy 
 on his brains if he thinks it has been for ^temperance 
 and morality.’ ” 
 
 Gilbert Allison arose and began a measured tread 
 up and down the room. 
 
 Laugh some more, Sammie ! I have not yet re- 
 covered my normal condition. I had as soon be dead 
 as morbid. Laugh. Perhaps it will prove infec- 
 tious.” 
 
 I prefer to diagnose my case before applying a 
 remedy,” said the doctor. Tell me your symptoms. 
 What ails you ?” 
 
 I am in a dilemma, Sammie — a dilemma. Tell 
 me — will it be necessary for me to wear a staring 
 placard on my back the rest of my mortal days in 
 order that people may know I have everlastingly sev- 
 ered my connection with the liquor business ?” 
 
 Dr. Sammie was obliging enough to favor his guest 
 with another hearty laugh. Then he blew two clouds 
 of smoke over his head and watched it curl itself away 
 around the chandelier, for notwithstanding the fact 
 that he knew, or should have known, the effects of 
 nicotine on the human system, this aspiring young 
 member of the medical profession wasted money and 
 nerve force in his slavery to a habit. 
 
108 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 I tell you, my friend/’ he said, with an air of con- 
 fidence, there are a set of people in the world — mind 
 you, I do not say that they are wise — who would tell 
 you that by casting a single vote in a certain way you 
 would stamp yourself as the vile opponent of the 
 Trade’s interests ^ forevermore, amen ! ’ ” 
 
 Gilbert Allison paused in his walk and looked into 
 his friend’s face a second. A sigh of relief escaped 
 his lips, and immediately he found himself in the 
 midst of a ringing laugh peculiar to one who has 
 broken through the meshes of a dilemma and finds 
 himself free. 
 
 The best speech of your life, Sammie ! Thank 
 you !” and hastily donning his hat he left the room 
 without further comment. 
 
 Dr. Sammie smiled when the door closed behind 
 his friend. He had an idea whither his way tended. 
 
THE DAUGHTEK OF A KEPUBLICAN. 
 
 100 
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 
 AlSr AWAKENING. 
 
 Judge Thorn sat looking over the evening paper. 
 
 Lost in her own thoughts, Jean sat in the shadow 
 of a palm idly thrumming a guitar, the soft pliant 
 strains corresponding well with the expression of her 
 face. 
 
 A sudden exclamation from her father caused her 
 to look up. 
 
 His profile alone was visible to her, but there is an 
 expression in outlines when one understands the sub- 
 ject, and she knew that something of an unusually 
 puzzling or distressing nature engaged him. 
 
 Eagerly watching, she played on softly. 
 
 Presently the judge crushed the paper into a ball 
 and with another exclamation of disgust threw it 
 across the room where it rolled behind a scrap basket 
 under a desk. At sight of so uncommon a procedure 
 Jean went to her father’s side. 
 
 What news, father mine ? What news ? ” she 
 asked. 
 
 Judge Thorn pointed in the direction of the wad- 
 ded paper. 
 
23^0 daughtp:r op a republican. 
 
 ^^Jean/^ said he, solemnly, ^^you remember how 
 proudly I boasted to you when Congress prohibited 
 that blackest disgrace of our army, the liquor-selling 
 canteen. You know how deeply I felt the shame and 
 disgrace upon the whole legal profession when an of- 
 ficer of the cabinet perpetrated the outrage that 
 thwarted the will of the sovereign people. Jean, 
 girl, in a long life of close contact with the nation’s 
 politics I have never met anything that has so deeply 
 tried my loyalty to the party in which I have helped 
 to work out the political problems of almost half a 
 century as did that act that, as a life-long student of 
 law, I recognized as a fraud. 
 
 ^^ut I have bolstered my shattered faith in the 
 party with my absolute confidence in the President. 
 I have refused to believe — to this very hour I have 
 refused to believe that the man whose magnificent 
 career I have watched with such interest and of whose 
 stainless honor I have been so proud, would consent 
 to be a party to such an act of anarchy. I have in- 
 sisted, as you well know, stoutly holding my position 
 though the long delay has made me sick at heart, 
 that when the long routine of official red tape had at 
 length unrolled itself and the case should finally come 
 to the President, justice would be done and the na- 
 tion’s honor vindicated. 
 
 ^^Now, look there!” 
 
 And with hands that trembled with suppressed 
 anger the old jurist unfolded the crumpled paper, 
 which Jean had recovered, and pointed out the tele- 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 graphic report that told how another high official of 
 the President's official family had disgraced himself, 
 his profession and the administration by the formal 
 declaration that he accepted the historic Griggs in- 
 famy as a correct interpretation of law. 
 
 ^^Jean, my child, spare me. Say nothing now, 
 child. I can not bear it. The faith of a lifetime is 
 shattered. On that page I read, plainly as if it were 
 printed there, that the President is a party to the in- 
 famy. The party of my lifelong loyalty stands com- 
 mitted by the act of its chosen leaders to the foulest 
 anarchy that ever disgraced a civilized people. Had 
 I no thoiight for temperance, as a citizen and as a law- 
 yer, I could not otherwise than, see in this the fore- 
 runner of the gravest national disaster.^^ 
 
 The young woman listened with an expression in 
 which deepest scorn for the treason done was mingled 
 with tender pity for the stricken man at her side. 
 Sharp, cutting words crowded to her lips for a final 
 argument, but her love for her father checked them. 
 
 Just then, in the silence, a step was heard approach- 
 ing the house. In a twinkling the canteen outrage 
 slipped from the mind of the girl, for the step was 
 one whose echo had made indelible prints on her heart 
 and whose owner she had been many times heartsick 
 to see. 
 
 She hardly had time to wonder what brought him 
 at an hour long past the usual time for making calls 
 before he was with them. 
 
112 
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 When he had been informed by the judge of the 
 latest chapter in the history of the canteen outrage, 
 Mr. Allison laughed heartily. 
 
 What have you been voting for the last ten years, 
 Judge,’’ he asked. 
 
 ]STot for the canteen,” the older man answered 
 warmly. 
 
 I have, and for every other measure conducive to 
 the best interests of the trade — and we have voted the 
 same ticket to a dot.” 
 
 Finding the judge rather indisposed to talk just 
 then the young man turned to his hostess. 
 
 I am on a quest,” he said. Tell me of some one 
 possessed of enough knowledge of human nature to 
 recommend a course that will square me with an un- 
 ruly conscience and — a woman.” 
 
 My father is a legal light, ask him. He needs 
 diversion now, I think,” and Jean smiled at sight of 
 his perplexed face. 
 
 His specialty has not been ^man atoms of a great 
 iniquity,’ ” said Allison with a smile that hardly con- 
 cealed his anxiety! Tell me, what would you do if 
 you had been a %an-atom,’ had grown disgusted with 
 the mother mass and wished to completely sever your 
 connection with it before God and man ?” 
 
 “ You mean if I were a man ? Well, first I would 
 ask the Lord to forgive me for ever having been a 
 %an-atom.’ ” 
 
 I have been duly penitent,” assented the ques- 
 tioner. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 113 
 
 Then I would buy some paper — a quantity of it 
 ■ — and I would write yards and yards of resolutions 
 stating that ^ it can never be legalized without sin.’ ” 
 And then 
 
 Then I should pray a whole lot — and pursue the 
 even tenor of my way ; and if my conscience should 
 assert itself in the face of all this^ I should think it 
 too cranky a conscience to be humored.” 
 
 What about the woman ?” 
 
 Jean smiled. 
 
 Woman ? Women/’ she said, have notions. 
 To save their lives they cannot see the use in wasting 
 paper and prayers. They would DO something. 
 Women — some women — believe in standing right 
 with God and conscience though the heavens fall.” 
 So do some men,” said Allison, gravely. 
 
 Jean started slightly. The tone of his voice, the 
 look of his eye, conveyed to her the knowledge that 
 somewhere, somehow, since she had seen him last he 
 had been awakened. 
 
 Involuntarily she clasped her "hands and in the 
 passing glance she gave him Gilbert Allison caught a 
 glimpse of the heaven that orthodox people say follows 
 the resurrection of the just. 
 
 Judge Thorn roused himself from the spell that 
 had been cast over him by the news in the crumpled 
 paper. 
 
 A second time he took it in his hands and slowly, 
 solemnly crushed it. 
 
114 THE DAUGHTEE OF A EEPUBLICAN. 
 
 “ The rank and file, the men whose honesty and 
 virtue have made the party great,” he said, “ have 
 been defrauded, outraged. My support of the ad- 
 ministration and of the party of my political life is 
 forever ended unless it reclaim the right to a decent 
 man’s support.” 
 
 While her father talked, Jean, lest in the first mo- 
 ments of her delightful discovery she should clap her 
 hands or cry or dance or in some other unconventional 
 way outrage grave decorum, returned to her seat and 
 her guitar. 
 
 The fringed palm threw long jagged shadows over 
 her dress and stretched away to meet the firelight 
 dancing on the hearth-rug. 
 
 The mingled tones of the two voices reached her 
 ear, but she heard them indistinctly. To the soft 
 strains that answered the strokes of her fingers, she 
 kept repeating over and over to herself^ “ He is 
 awake, he is awake;” 
 
 Presently she heard her father leave the room. 
 
 Then her heart began to whirl and beat in a way 
 unknown to her before. She caught the faint chime 
 of a distant steeple bell and the notes of the low music 
 died away to a plaintive breathing as she counted the 
 strokes, for she knew the fateful hour of her life was 
 at hand. 
 
 Just as the last stroke quivered out onto the new 
 hour, he came. He sat down beside her and putting 
 aside the guitar, drew her close to him. 
 
THE DAUGHTER OF A REPUBLICAN. 
 
 115 
 
 You are awake/^ she said softly, as if half afraid 
 of breaking some magic spell. Tell me about it.^^ 
 He dropped his hand over one of hers and described 
 the tragedy of the victims of the ^^great iniquity’^ that 
 he had seen on that eventful night. 
 
 When he spoke of the murdered child he felt her 
 hand clinch in his and when he told of the prayer con- 
 signing the ^^respectable’’ dealer to the place prepared 
 for Satan and his earthly henchmen, involuntarily she 
 would have drawn away from him, but his arm bound 
 her like a band of steel. 
 
 A tortured face — a bitter prayer — a bloody trag- 
 edy — ugly instruments; but in the hands of the Di- 
 vinity that smooths out man’s rough hewing they have 
 cut away the last outline of a ^man-atom.’ Are you 
 glad? Has fate fashioned me to the satisfaction of 
 one peerless, priceless woman ? ” 
 
 For one moment Jean hesitated. Then 
 
 But what business is that of ours ? Our story has 
 been of the daughter of a Republican, and the 
 young woman whose face is hidden upon the shoulder 
 of Gilbert Allison, once rum-seller, now by God’s grace 
 Prohibitionist, is no longer the daughter of a Repub- 
 lican; for Judge Thorn’s resolution, slow formed, is 
 as unbreakable as nature’s laws. 
 
 THE END. 
 
Temperance 
 
 Progress In The 19th Century 
 
 A NEW HISTORY OF THE TEM- 
 PERANCE REFORM IN AMERICA 
 
 By JOHN G. WOOLLEY and 
 
 WILLIAM E. JOHNSON 
 
 Coi-nplete 1 
 
 lriter*estiris I 
 
 This is the most recent historical book relating to the Temperance 
 Reform. It reviews in detail the progress of the Great Reform in 
 America, giving an account of all Temperance and Prohibition organiza- 
 tions, their leaders and work. It gives#the facts concerning the methods 
 which have been followed in the attempt to “regulate” the drink traffic. 
 It speaks of the relation of Temperance to Medicine, Industry, Military' 
 Affairs, and to the Church. 
 
 SOME OF THE TOPICS : 
 
 Here are some of tlie topics treated, an entire chapter being given to each. 
 
 Alcohol Among The Ancients 
 The Development of The Public House 
 Drink in the North American Colonies 
 Early Temperance Agitation in the United 
 States 
 
 Early Moral Suasion Campaigns 
 Fraternal Temperance Societies 
 The Ante-Bellum Prohibition Movement 
 Post-Bellum State Campaigns 
 High License 
 
 The W. C. T. U. and Other Temperance 
 Societies 
 
 The Prohibition Party 
 Temperance in Canada 
 Temperance in Europe 
 Temperance in Australia 
 The Gothenberg System ' 
 
 The Dispensary System 
 Temperance and Medicine 
 Temperance and Life Insurance ] 
 Temperance and Industry ' 
 
 Temperance in Military Affairs 
 Civilization as the Apostle of Vice 
 Temperance and Christian Churches 
 
 Every page is interesting. Every statement reliable. A complete 
 index places all the contents at your immediate disposal. 
 
 533 Pages. Splendidly Ill\istrated, 
 
 Bound in Cloth. Price, $2.00 
 
 Address 
 
 THE NEW VOICE COMPANY; 
 
 HYDE PARK, CHICAGO 
 
\