considering the prospect before and around him. On a
large table, which was as white as scrubbing could make it, the tea
apparatus was duly arranged. The fire was burning its best, and sent
out a ruddy glow, which made every bright thing it fell upon look
brighter still. Muffins stood in a shining pile upon the fender, and a
corpulent teapot on the top of the oven. Around the table sat two young
men of about the ages of nineteen and twenty, and three daughters who
might range from eighteen to fifteen. Their mother was by the fire
preparing the tea for her husband and children, who had all lately come
in from their work.

"Why, Johnson, is that you?" exclaimed Ned Brierley; "come in, man, and
sit ye down.--Reach him a chair, Esther," he said to his youngest
daughter.

"Well, Ned," said Johnson, sitting down, and drawing back his chair as
near the door as he could, "I thought, maybe, you could give me a bit of
advice about our Sammul. I suppose you've heard how he went off
yesternight."

"Ay, Thomas, we've heard all about it. I'm gradely sorry too; but you
mustn't lose heart, man: the Lord'll bring him back again; he's a good
lad."

"He _is_ a good lad," said Johnson; "and I've been and driven him away
from his home. That cursed drink has swept him away, as it's swept
almost everything good out of our house. It'll do for us all afore
we've done with it; and the sooner it's the death of me the better."

"Nay, nay, Thomas, you mustn't say so," cried the other; "it's not
right. God has spared you for summat better; turn over a new leaf, man,
at once. He'll give you strength for it if you'll ask him. Come now,
draw your chair to the table, and have a cup of tea and a bit of muffin;
it'll do you good."

"Ned," said Thomas, sadly, "I can't take meat nor drink in your house.
I've abused you behind your back scores of times, and I can't for shame
take it."

"Nay, nay, man; never heed what you've said against me. You see you've
done me no harm. I'm none the worse for all that folks can say against
me; so draw up your chair, you're gradely welcome to your tea."

"Ay, do," chimed in his wife; "doesn't Scripture say, `If thine enemy
hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink:' and I'm sure you must
be both hungry and thirsty if you haven't tasted since you came from the
pit."

Poor Johnson could not speak. When he was sober he was a feeling man,
and a sensible one too. Alas! his sober times were few, b