bit of intemperance so firmly fixed upon him that everybody
thought he would end his days in the drunkard's grave. Susie kissed
him when he came through the gate, as she always did, but there was
something in her face that went to his heart--a look so sad, and full
of touching sorrow for one so young as she!

"What ails my little girl?" he asked as he patted her curly head.

"I can't tell you, father," she answered, slowly.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because it would make you feel bad." Susie replied.

"I guess not," he said, as they walked up to the door together. "What
is it, Susie?"

"Oh, father," and Susie burst into tears again as the memory of Ned
Graham's words came up freshly in her mind, "I wish you wouldn't drink
any more, for the boys and girls don't like to play with me, 'cause
you do."

Mr. Ellet made no reply. But something stirred in his heart that made
him ashamed of himself; ashamed that he was the cause of so much
sorrow and misery. After supper he took his hat, and Mrs. Ellet knew
only too well where he was going.

At first he had resolved to stay at home that evening, but the force
of habit was so strong that he could not resist, and he yielded,
promising himself that he would not drink more than once or twice.

Susie had left the table before he had finished his supper, and as he
passed the great clump of lilacs by the path, on his way to the gate,
he heard her voice and stopped to listen to what she was saying.

"Oh, good Jesus, please don't let father drink any more. Make him just
as he used to be when I was a baby, and then the boys and girls can't
call me a drunkard's child, or say such bad things about me. Please,
dear Jesus, for mother's sake and mine."

Susie's father listened to her simple prayer with a great lump
swelling in his throat.

And when it was ended he went up to her, and knelt down by her side,
and put his arm around her, oh, so lovingly!

"God in Heaven," he said, very solemnly, "I promise to-night, never to
touch another drop of liquor as long as I live. Give me strength to
keep my pledge, and help me to be a better man."

"Oh, father," Susie cried, her arms about his neck, and her head upon
his breast, "I'm _so_ glad! I shan't care about anything they say to
me now, for I know you won't be a drunkard any more."

"God helping me, I will be a _man_!" he answered, as, taking Susie by
the hand he went back into the house where his wife was sitting with
the old patient