^PS 3515 J.U24 V4 J 1903 Copy 1 1 3 THE VICTIM." JOHN HUEBSCHMANN. A Dramatic Monologue for a Man. BY .IOHN HUEBSCHMANN. [Copyrighted.] PRICK, 25 CENTS. THE VICTIM." JOHN HUEBSCHMANN. A Dramatic Monologue for a Man. BY JOHN HUEBSCHMANN. [Copyrighted.] PRICE, - - - - 25 C E NTS. THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, Two Copies Received JUN 29 1903 % Copyright Entry fou^r^ lotos class £5 xxc. No 3 Who, nothing but a wreck in body, — Yes, sold to drink, to hated drink, although A slave, however still loved wife and child As ever husband, father could. Home was not home for me at Such a time. — Drink, thou damned Destroyer of that happy home, yes, Til Serve thee, thy slave I'll be. — I went away that night, away And never to ^return; for from then on I steadily went onward, down, — down. — I traveled on the road which leads Away from heaven right on to hell. I took to drinking more and more. < I made the whisky-shop my home, And scarcely more than twice in twenty Days did reason clearly see. Thus would I steep myself in liquor. Among the small jobs I would undertake To earn some means, which I could Squander then in drink, was selling news. One afternoon I had in store for Hungry public a sensation, and Sold my papers by the hundreds. It was the blood- writ story of a wreck In railroad-life in northern Maine. I took but little interest in the fact,. But wanting. of an object for a thought, — 10 — I kept my papers' last, went home, — To the saloon, my home, — where I could Satisfy my thirst, and there I sat To gloat with bleared eyes, o'er My paper's awful news. In letters bold was told the awful Story of the wreck and passing over All the detail, suddenly the line : "A Woman Died From Grief" Seemed like a fiery dart, To pierce my eyes and brain and heart ; For there her name, my wife's own name,- Pearl's name — and she — dead! Poverty-stricken, failing in health, Left by her husband, full Fourteen years ago, remaining true To him, she died with broken heart. — Fourteen years. Have I lived so long Without thee, whom I swore I could Not leave? Did I love her still? And she now dead ! My wife now dead! Oh, would That I had stayed. The thought, It doth torment me much. Oh, wretch, most horrid wretch Am I, destroyer of my happy home, Myself and soul and now, — The murderer of my wife! — Why end I not my wretched life? Oh, wicked drunkard, whose life Counts only days, whose body Deadly venom doth quite saturate And heart is in most troubled state. Here is the quieting knife, to quickly End the wretched life, despatch the soul, The soul immortal down, to hell. Come, enter, pierce this villain's heart. — But, stay — what tells me not to kill ? Who holds my hand aloof? Stay, blood-stained hand and glittering steel. Drink, waiter, quickly come and Bring me drink— the drink was brought And I, as many drunkards do Drank with the intent to kill my Sorrow and my care. — Then did appear to me in my Delirious state scenes most horrible. Methought I saw a train Come speeding on with might and main And crushing me to atoms. My wife I saw, in heaven, redeemed From cares of earth; again her spirit seems To haunt my wicked soul, And there the fiery demon, with outstretched hand, And devilish laughter did now command Me down to gloomy dungeon. Oh thought most horrible, — most horrible. — ■ What next took place, I know not By myself, but merely by report. And thus the story runs : A young but earnest pastor Was called on to officiate in duties Calling at the bedside of a child. He went and picking right His way in gloomy darkness of the night, Along the steely track, He stumbled suddenly across A human form, which lay outstretched Upon the way as though 'twere lifeless. He halted.— ' — 12 — But suddenly there thunders through gloomy space On toward him the night express. — 'Tis on him. — Only hundred rods, And racing like a fiery demon. — In fearful haste he drags The form from certain death In awful shape. — He holds his breath As past them flies the train of gloomy coaches. Fright, — shudder, — fear. — Like aspen leaf is shaken the zephyr. He stands in silent prayer. — But at his feet the dusky form Lies motionless, and as he stoops To scan the upturned face, the pastor Turns aback from the offensive odor of the liquor. But calling to his aid from Neighboring house three stalwart men He summons them In haste to bear the man Even to his own dear home. To tell his Wife that he had ordered this. Returning from the death-bed scene, The pastor joined his wife In caring for this wicked life. But speak to him, the pastor Might evoke from silent stone An answer sooner than from him. — All this was after told to me; And I, this man, was in so wretched plight. When morning came I was Myself again, and that in such A place. — What does it mean? Then opened wide the door, and In my room there entered hand In hand, as man and wife, The rescuers of my wretched life. — What does it mean? Who is the man, and who is she, Who stands so proudly at his side ? What is't; am I in drunken state? What interest have my eyes And brain that thus belies me? Methinks my wife I see, My beauteous Pearl of eighteen years when she Became my wife. — Oh, God, what does it mean Such thoughts, this scene And imagination raging in torment everlasting Oh, Pearl, forsaken wife of mine, Or what it is I see, If thou art ghost of my dead love, Then speak to me, condemn me, If thou canst say no more For that is all that I implore. Speak to me, speak. — Oh, heaven, — this is real; For see, it moves. Oh, God, what will it say? — And this was my awakening. — The two then stepped to me And did impart, how I was found In danger of my -life, that they were bound By duty thus to save me. My deliverer then spoke to me In earnest words : "And see," He said, "As I am pastor, shepherd of the flock, My duty is to save the soul Of each and every erring one. And finding thee in drunken state, — 14 — I hoped, I knew, 'twas not too late With Christ's dear aid To turn the strayed On better path, on toward the fold." I heard but heeded not his words, For there stood she, the picture of my bride, The pastor soon did note my curiosity, How fixed my stare, Was on her there, And did make known to me her person, As Pearl, his darling wife, who oft had Told him of her home, And how her father, fourteen years ago Had left his wife and child, to roam In search of sensual joy, which he did love. In drink to seek and drunkenness, And nevermore was heard of. And now did she speak straight To my heart, that I should do all that I could, to save Mankind and self from drunkards' dark eternal grave. She spoke to me in such a way Since she well knew the powerful sway Of alcohol in drinkers' home. But even as she spoke, I knew My Pearl, my child was here before me. — I fell upon my knees, confessed my Sin, my name and begged forgiveness Of my child and of my God. And not in vain. — She thanked her God that he had spared My soul from everlasting hell. And now did ask of Him, who cared For high and low alike, that he would change my course. — 15 — She put her dimpled hands in mine, And Lily, she, she kissed my drunkard's brow 'Twas she, who spoke in words consoling: "Dear mother now is gone, gone to the land of light, And we do after earthly flight Hope, too, to harbor there. Now, wilt thou not come and join us in our way? Say, not, dear father, that thou canst not, For, yes, thou canst, although The power is not here below In poor, weak self to find, But by the blessed help of our Lord so kind. So be from now no more a slave But live a better life. And now together let us pray, dear husband." — Then did we three in prayer kneel There did I supplication's power feel. And even though I longed for drink While standing as on abyss's brink, I could step back and did then turn My love to hatred, for the drink I spurn With anchored heart now from me. And then and there — seems strange to me — Not by my own poor will, but by some Stronger power driven, I vowed, I nevermore would drink. — Oh blessed Jesus, since that great change, although My body is well nigh wasted, I am myself. And conscious self, let me be Thine. Oh, friendly Jesus, how carest Thou for fallen Wretqh, that Thou didst save from drunkard's grave This lowly sinner, Thy children's worst, Who now lives happy in his daughter's love. Why killed I not myself that night, With ready, wicked knife did take my life? Why didst-Thou stay the train, till I was saved JUN 29 1903 — 16- By stranger's hand? Oh Lord, Thy ways are wondrous strange. Thy holy will could not permit The death of sinner yet unfit. My soul to save and set for others as example Didst Thou Thy grace reveal so amply. — Dear Lord, if ever man was due Great thanks to Thee, that man am truly I. — But, oh, what pain is this I feel? Alas, why question I yet long? 'Tis true, Physician's sentence did pronounce my end. Oh, is this death ? — My heart, 'tis failing ! — Sweet rest — it dare not come but pain. — Hold, am or am I not insane? Could I but live life o'er again, oh, Saviour, Then would every hour and day be wrought The recompense that Thou hast bought Me free, the demon's prey. Oh, Christ, 'twas horrible to live a drunkard's life, But sweet it is to know my sins forgiven. My eyes grow dim, — they've lost their sight But see, — behold, the shining light ! — Oh, Pearl, my wife, methinks in spirit's Form I see thee. Thy angel spirit doth lead Me on to heaven. I come, — I come. — {Reels over, dies exhausted.) While body dies, my soul redeemed shall rise To meet Thee with our God beyond the skies. Curtain. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS III1II1IIII1IIIII1IIIII1IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII1II1L 015 908 612 4 M MARNELL thie PRINTER, ST. LOUIS.