nd said her high
and holy duty was plain before her--she must not let her own selfish
desires interfere with it: she must marry "poor George" and "reform
him." It would break her heart, she knew it would, and so on; but duty
was duty. So she married George, and Edward's heart came very near
breaking, as well as her own. However, Edward recovered, and married
another girl--a very excellent one she was, too.

Children came to both families. Mary did her honest best to reform her
husband, but the contract was too large. George went on drinking, and by
and by he fell to misusing her and the little ones sadly. A great many
good people strove with George--they were always at it, in fact--but he
calmly took such efforts as his due and their duty, and did not mend his
ways. He added a vice, presently--that of secret gambling. He got deeply
in debt; he borrowed money on the firm's credit, as quietly as he could,
and carried this system so far and so successfully that one morning the
sheriff took possession of the establishment, and the two cousins found
themselves penniless.

Times were hard, now, and they grew worse. Edward moved his family into
a garret, and walked the streets day and night, seeking work. He begged
for it, but it was really not to be had. He was astonished to see how
soon his face became unwelcome; he was astonished and hurt to see how
quickly the ancient interest which people had had in him faded out and
disappeared. Still, he MUST get work; so he swallowed his chagrin, and
toiled on in search of it. At last he got a job of carrying bricks up a
ladder in a hod, and was a grateful man in consequence; but after that
NOBODY knew him or cared anything about him. He was not able to keep up
his dues in the various moral organizations to which he belonged,
and had to endure the sharp pain of seeing himself brought under the
disgrace of suspension.

But the faster Edward died out of public knowledge and interest, the
faster George rose in them. He was found lying, ragged and drunk, in the
gutter one morning. A member of the Ladies' Temperance Refuge fished him
out, took him in hand, got up a subscription for him, kept him sober
a whole week, then got a situation for him. An account of it was
published.

General attention was thus drawn to the poor fellow, and a great many
people came forward and helped him toward reform with their countenance
and encouragement. He did not drink a drop for two months, and meantime