with
an easy, quiet grace, which perfectly relieved Uncle Hiram's mind from
any care for her. He knew very well Ada's husband sought in every way
to relieve her of all unnecessary care and anxiety. After dinner came
tea and coffee--nothing more. When they retired from the table Henry
said:

"Uncle, would you like a cigar or pipe? I'll get you one in a few
moments, if you say so."

"And will you join me?" asked his uncle.

"I do not use either. I care not for the weed, and think it better not
to cultivate a taste," answered Henry.

"You are right, my boy--and how about wine or ale?"

"Nothing of the kind, uncle."

"Total abstinence, is it, Henry?"

"Yes, sir."

"I knew you were a temperate man, as is Charley. But he takes his
ale, I notice," said Uncle Hiram.

"Yes, I wish he did not; a man has no idea how such little things, as
he thinks them, draw upon his purse."

"I know, I know!" said Uncle Hiram. And he no longer wondered at the
difference in Charley's and Henry's style of living. And so he had a
good talk with Charley, and showed him how Henry, with the same
salary, could keep two servants and beautify his home, and he not be
able "to keep his head above water," to use his own expression.

"Yes, my boy, the cause is just this--the difference between
_temperance_ and _total_ abstinence. You'll try it now, will you not,
for your wife's sake?" said Uncle Hiram.

"Indeed I will, sir, and with many thanks to you for opening my eyes,"
answered Charley, who really loved his wife, but was thoughtless, and
never for a moment had considered himself at all responsible for
Nellie's failing health, strength and beauty.

When Uncle Hiram's next visit was made, he saw, before he entered the
house, that Charley had kept his word. And when Nellie's joyous
greeting was sounding in his ear he knew then that all was "just as it
should be" with Nellie, as well as Ada. And the grateful little wife
knew to whom she was indebted for the happy change, and blessed Uncle
Hiram for it.

WHAT HE LEFT

"I know not of the truth, d'ye see,
I tell the tale as 'twas told to me."

Mark Brownson was dying, slowly, but surely, so the physician told his
wife, and advised that if he had any business to settle, it should not
be delayed.

"He is sinking, and even now I see his mind is, at times, a little
clouded. However, I suppose there is nothing of importance that he
should consider," said the doctor.

"He