aving him, the joy for his redemption will
counterbalance all that I have suffered as a drunkard's wife."

Chapter XI

[Text missing.]

Chapter XII

[Text missing.]

Chapter XIII

John Anderson's Saloon

_"The end of these things is death."_

"Why do you mix that liquor with such care and give it to that child?
You know he is not going to pay you for it?"

"I am making an investment."

"How so?"

"Why you see that boy's parents are very rich, and in course of time he
will be one of my customers."

"Well! John Anderson as old a sinner as I am, I wouldn't do such a thing
for my right hand."

"What's the harm? You are one of my best customers, did liquor ever harm
you?"

"Yes it does harm me, and when I see young men beginning to drink, I
feel like crying out, 'Young man you are in danger, don't put your feet
in the terrible flood, for ten to one you will be swamped.'"

"Well! this is the best joke of the season: Tom Cary preaching
temperance. When do you expect to join the Crusade? But, Oh! talk is
cheap."

"Cheap or dear, John Anderson, when I saw you giving liquor to that
innocent boy, I couldn't help thinking of my poor Charley. He was just
such a bright child as that, with beautiful brown eyes, and a fine
forehead. Ah that boy had a mind; he was always ahead in his studies.
But once when he was about twelve years old, I let him go on a
travelling tour with his uncle. He was so agreeable and wide awake, his
uncle liked to have him for company; but it was a dear trip to my poor
Charley. During this journey they stopped at a hotel, and my brother
gave him a glass of wine. Better for my dear boy had he given him a
glass of strychnine. That one glass awakened within him a dreadful
craving. It raged like a hungry fire. I talked to him, his mother pled
with him, but it was no use, liquor was his master, and when he couldn't
get liquor I've known him to break into his pantry to get our burning
fluid to assuage his thirst. Sometimes he would be sober for several
weeks at a time, and then our hopes would brighten that Charley would be
himself again, and then in an hour all our hopes would be dashed to the
ground. It seemed as if a spell was upon him. He married a dear good
girl, who was as true as steel, but all her entreaties for him to give
up drinking were like beating the air. He drank, and drank, until he
drank himself into the grave."

By this time two or three loungers h