her parents and many
admiring relatives very proud of the a flutter of lace.

Maude Healy--the star reciter of the Hullett neighbourhood--recited
"How Father Signed the Pledge," in a good, clear, ringing voice, and
the Hullett people thought they were just as sure of the medal as if
they saw the chairman pinning it on Maude.

Two other girls recited, with numerous gestures, selections of the
same class; in which wayward sons, stormy nights, and railway
accidents figured prominently.

Then the chairman made the explanation in regard to Pearl's
appearance, and asked her to come forward and recite. Camilla gave
her hand an affectionate little squeeze as she left the seat, and,
thus fortified, Pearlie Watson faced the sea of faces unflinchingly.
Then came that wonderful change--the little girl was gone, and an old
woman, so bowed, so broken, began to tell her story, old enough to
most of us, but strong always in its gripping pathos--the story of a
child cheated of her birthright of happiness because some men will
grow rich on other men's losses and fatten on the tears of little
children. The liquor traffic stood arraigned before the bar of God as
the story went on, unfolding darker and darker chapters in the
woman's life. It had been the curse that had followed her always, had
beaten and bruised her, never merciful.

The people saw it in its awfulness, and the pity of it rolled over
them as they listened to that sad, old, cracked voice.

When she came to the place where she begged the well-dressed stranger
to try and save her boy, and, clasping her trembling hands besought
the God of Heaven to bear with her Jim a little longer, and let her
see the desire of her heart, her son redeemed and forgiven, there was
an audible sob from some one in the back of the hall, and many a boy
away from home, careless and forgetful of his own mother, remembered
her now with sudden tenderness. The words of the prayer were stiff
and unnatural, but when did the Spirit of God depend upon felicity of
expression? It can abound wherever there is the honest heart, and
when Pearl, with tears flowing down her cheeks, but with voice steady
and clear, thanked the God of all grace for sending her the answer to
her prayers, even the dullest listener got a glimmering of the truth
that there is "One behind the shadows who keeps watch above His own."

When Pearl had finished, the audience sat perfectly motionless, and
then burst into such a tornado of