THOMAS AND CLARA.

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T
THAT boy and girl in the picture were real persons. They were Thomas and Clara; were born in a certain town in Steuben County, N. Y., ten years apart—though they seem to be almost of the same age—and always knew each other.
girl sitting on footstool sewing boy with hat by dresser
THOMAS AND CLARA.

Clara was a very thoughtful girl, and anxious to know all about everything—often trying to do things beyond her power. She was also fond of her needle, and at an early age could use it with remarkable skill and rapidity.

You need not be surprised to learn that her father used tobacco. Most men do. They begin in boyhood. Many boys think it fine to be men, and that one of the quickest ways to be men is to smoke or chew. So they become deathly sick learning to use tobacco. It is strange. It costs a great sum of money in one's life—enough to buy a home. It makes the breath offensive. It is a very filthy habit and selfish as it is filthy, for though the tobacco user is a great nuisance to many people, especially to ladies, yet he does not seem to care how much others dislike his smoke or breath. He goes right on puffing his cigar or nasty old pipe-fumes into the nostrils and eyes of all who come near.

Now Clara's father was no exception. Sometimes he would come into the kitchen or dining-room—the parlor even—and fill the air with tobacco odor.

Clara's mother would get out of patience at times and say it was a nasty habit and that men had no more right to smoke and chew than women.

And she was right!

Clara loved her father. In her eyes no man was quite as grand as he except the minister. But on this tobacco question she took strong grounds with her mother, her pastor and Sabbath-school teacher, who all thought the same way.

Hearing her mother express her mind so often against this "filthy weed" she learned the many arguments against its use and resolved that she would do everything in her power to prevent her friends from raising or having anything to do with it.

One thing she knew—she never, no, never would marry a man who used tobacco.

Thomas was so much older than herself she was afraid to speak to him as her heart often moved her, about certain habits she feared he was learning.

So the years went by. The great war of the Rebellion came on. Young boys were joining the army. Word came that Thomas had enlisted and with many other young persons was on his way to the front where men of the North and South were shooting each other down by the thousand.

Those were awful days. Not so much because many died on the battlefield and suffered in loathsome prisons, but because of the bad habits many of the young soldiers acquired by being among wicked associates.

Thomas passed through some dreadful experiences. He does not like to speak of them now, telling them only when he is urged.

He was in battle after battle and saw many of his comrades shot down by his side. He was also in prison.

But the war came to an end. He returned and brought with him many things, among them a great love for tobacco.

You need not wonder. Nearly all the soldiers loved tobacco; the majority, I fear, played cards and drank whiskey, and took God's name in vain.

Thomas escaped everything except tobacco, although he had seen so much of the other things.

As the soldiers were brave for their country, so many at home became bold for Jesus. Clara came out on the Lord's side, though many of her mates laughed at her for it.

But she stood firm and when she had a good chance she spoke true words for her Master.

Between her home and another near by was a telephone. Her cousin and Thomas would converse over it. Sometimes Clara would "try her hand" at talking over the wire. This, however, Thomas did not know. He supposed Clara's cousin, Halsey, was always at the other end of the telephone, answering or asking questions.

One day as the conversation was going on, Thomas said:

"Well, I must stop now and take a smoke."

"Don't do it," came a quick response. It was from Clara, but Thomas did not know it.

"Why not?" inquired Thomas.

"It is nasty," flashed back the quick answer.

"When may I smoke?" came another question.

"Not till I give you permission," Clara replied.

These were her last words through the telephone to Thomas. She never gave him permission, as she died soon after.

Thomas never used tobacco after that. I heard him tell the story in the meeting Clara used to attend.

L.
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