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nsinuating itself into families in the form of domestic wines, which are generally supposed to be so harmless, but which are, in reality, the foundation of intemperance." "You cannot make people believe that mother." "The time will come when they will be forced to believe it, my son; for the free use of domestic wines in families, is not going to keep husbands, brothers and friends from the lager beer saloons where the feet of the unwary become so easily entangled. On the contrary, past experience proves that the taste for stimulating drinks acquired at home rather has a tendency to lead men to frequent such places." "But, mother, remember it is not the use of these things, but the abuse, that does the harm." "True, my son, but the use in nine cases out of ten, leads to the abuse, and it is strange that mothers and sisters will imperil their happiness for fashion's sake. I would rather that Judge Hastings had offered you an adder in the cup, than the drink which he did; for had you seen the poisonous reptile, you would have turned from it, but, hidden in the enticing wine, the serpent's sting fastens itself upon the vitals and its victim knows it not." O, mother, you are perfectly beside yourself on the subject. Judge Hastings is a man who, I make no doubt, has drank moderately all his life; and who among us is more vigorous in mind and body? It is all nonsense, the idea that a man must necessarily become a drunkard, because he occasionally indulges in stimulants." "Ma, ma," broke in Louise, who saw that her mother felt hurt, "you might as well hand Edward over to the persuasion of Miss DeWolf. If anybody can convert him she can. The doctor says she becomes more beautiful and interesting every day. What do you think, Ned? The doctor was there this afternoon while we were out sleigh riding; he confesses it himself. "I must bid you good night," said Edward abruptly, and, quite to the surprise of the trio he withdrew without another word. His mother suspecting something wrong, followed him to his room, and with true motherly solicitude sought out the cause. "Edward," said she, "when you were a boy, you used to confide all your annoyances to your mother. Can it be that anything has been said this evening to wound your feelings?" "There are none that love like a mother," said Edward, putting his arm tenderly around her neck, "and there is none in whom I can so safely confide as in you, mother, but manhood
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