Temperance > Autobiography and personal recollections of John B. Gough

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH.
the pool' woman is sick with bilious fever, and the doctor
thinks she can hardly recover. He has not been drinking
for some days, and I think if you could get at him you
might do him good.”
I said, “I will go.”
The house was shown me, and I knocked at the door.
He opened it, and knew me, for he had been to one of the
lectures.
“Mr. Gough, I believe.”
“Yes, that’s my name; would you please give me a
drink of water?”
“Certainly; come in.”
I went in, and sat down. He brought the water. I
noticed two children playing on the floor; a door was half
open, leading—as I found afterwards—to the room where
the wife lay sick. I talked with him about the weather,
the roads, the freshet, the contemplated railroad to the
town,—striving to introduce the subject of temperance;
but the man seemed determined that I should not; and
when I approached the subject, would head me off. I felt
perplexed, and thought of leaving, when, noticing the
children, I said:
“You’ve two bright children there; are they yours?”
“Yes, they’re mine; and they’re bright enough.”
“You love your children; do you not?”
“Sartain! I love my children.”
“Would you not do anything you coidd to benefit your
children ?”
He looked grave, as if there was something else coming
after that, and said: “Sartain! I ought to be willing to
benefit my children.”
“Well,” and I got up, ready to get out of the door if he
should be offended, “do you not believe that if you gave
up drink the children would be better off?”