Temperance > Autobiography and personal recollections of John B. Gough

TAKES THE PLEDGE.
97
All that day, the coming event of the evening was con¬
tinually before my mind’s eye, and it seemed to me as if
the appetite which had so long controlled me, exerted
more power over me than ever. It grew stronger than I
had at any time known it, now that I was about to rid
myself of it. Until noon I struggled against its cravings,
and then, unable to endure my misery any longer, I made
some excuse for leaving the shop, and went nearly a mile
from it in order to procure one more glass wherewith to
appease the demon who so tortured me. The day wore
wearily away, and when evening came, I determined, in
spite of many a hesitation, to perform the promise I had
made to the stranger the night before. The meeting was
to be held at the Lower Town-hall, Worcester; and
thither, clad in an old brown surtout, closely buttoned up
to my chin, that my ragged habiliments beneath might
not be visible, I went. I took a place among the rest,
and, when an opportunity of speaking offered itself, I
requested permission to be heard, which was readily
granted.
When I stood up to relate my story, I was invited to
the stand, to which I repaired; and, on turning to face
the audience, I recognized my acquaintance who had
asked me to sign. It was Mr. Joel Stratton. He greeted
me with a smile of approbation, which nerved and
strengthened me for my task, as I tremblingly observed
every eye fixed upon me. I lifted my quivering hand,
and then and there told what rum had done for me. I
related how I was once respectable and happy, and had a
home; but that now I was a houseless, miserable, scathed,
diseased, and blighted outcast from society. I said scarce
a hope remained to me of ever becoming that which I
once was; but, having promised to sign the pledge, I had
determined not to break my word, and would now affix