I walked for some time in the porch, musing on what I had seen and
heard; while a constant stream of visitors came pouring into the
bar-room. Only a few of these remained. The larger portion went in
quickly, took their glass, and then left, as if to avoid
observation as much as possible.

Soon after I commenced walking in the porch, I noticed an elderly
lady go slowly by, who, in passing, slightly paused, and evidently
tried to look through the bar-room door. The pause was but for an
instant. In less than ten minutes she came back, again stopped--
this time longer--and again moved off slowly, until she passed out
of sight. I was yet thinking about her, when, on lifting my eyes
from the ground, she was advancing along the road, but a few rods
distant. I almost started at seeing her, for there no longer
remained a doubt on my mind, that she was some trembling,
heartsick woman, in search of an erring son, whose feet were in
dangerous paths. Seeing me, she kept on, though lingeringly. She
went but a short distance before returning; and this time, she
moved in closer to the house, and reached a position that enabled
her eyes to range through a large portion of the bar-room. A
nearer inspection appeared to satisfy her. She retired with
quicker steps; and did not again return during the evening.

Ah! what a commentary upon the uses of an attractive tavern was
here! My heart ached, as I thought of all that unknown mother had
suffered, and was doomed to suffer. I could not shut out the image
of her drooping form as I lay upon my pillow that night; she even
haunted me in my dreams.