is last
look at that still form, he vowed with all his strength of will never to
touch drink again. He walked silently back to his home, but it was not
home any more. He was heart-broken. What would he do? How could he bear
it? Presently two of his comrades came out to sympathize with him. After
talking a while, one pulled a bottle from his pocket, saying, "Here, Bill,
take a bit to brace you up." "No, Jack," he answered, "I'm going to quit
the stuff; I promised her I would." "That's all right," said Jack, "but
you need a little now for your nerves." He lifted the bottle to his own
lips, then held it uncorked in his hand. The odor entered Bill's nostrils,
the old appetite asserted itself, and before he knew it he had seized the
bottle. A minute later it was empty! When Bill next came to realize what
was happening, it was a week later. He had been drunk all the time; he did
not even know what day it was; but when he realized what had happened, he
was stricken with remorse. He knew now, as never before, that drink was
his master.

Two years passed. His few belongings had been sold to pay the funeral
expenses; the remainder had gone for drink. Another family lived in the
home now. Mr. Wilson, a kind neighbor, had given him a home, and he worked
for him when he was sober enough. One evening as he was making his way to
the saloon as usual, he heard singing. "That's strange," he muttered;
"wonder what's going on?" He turned and walked toward the singing and soon
found a large tent filled with people. "Queer-looking show," he thought as
he approached the entrance. A pleasant-faced young man stepped up to him
and said, "Come in, Bill, and I will get you a good seat." He mechanically
followed the usher in. The singing was good, and he enjoyed it. Presently
a man arose and, with tears running down his face, related that he had
been a drunkard, and that after years of trying to overcome the habit, he
had finally turned to God for help, and that he was now a free and happy
man. Bill understood the struggle part, but not the rest. He knew what it
meant to fail, and as he pondered he thought of his wife. Did she know how
he had broken his promise? Did she weep over him now as she used to?

Some one entered the pulpit and talked for a long time, but Bill did not
hear anything he said. Bill was thinking, thinking. There was a man who
had "beat the drink," and he said the Lord had helped him. Bill wondered
if the Lord would help him. Wh