n't want to put something inside of it which will bite like
a serpent and sting as an adder."

"I reckon Robby's right," said his mother, setting down her glass and
leaving the wine unfinished. "You young folks knows a heap more dan we
ole folks." "Well," declared Aunt Linda, "you all is temp'rence to de
backbone. But what could I do wid my wine ef we didn't drink it?"

"Let it turn to vinegar, and sign the temperance pledge," replied
Robert.

"I don't keer 'bout it myself, but I don't 'spect John would be willin'
ter let it go, 'cause he likes it a heap."

"Then you must give it up for his sake and Job's," said Robert. "They
may learn to like it too well."

"You know, Aunt Linda," said Iola, "people don't get to be drunkards all
at once. And you wouldn't like to feel, if Job should learn to drink,
that you helped form his appetite."

"Dat' so! I beliebs I'll let dis turn to winegar, an' not make any
more."

"That's right, Aunt Linda. I hope you'll hold to it," said Robert,
encouragingly.

Very soon Aunt Linda had an excellent dinner prepared. After it was over
Robert went with Iola to C----, where her friend, the bishop, was
awaiting her return. She told him the wonderful story of Robert's
finding his mother, and of her sweet, childlike faith.

The bishop, a kind, fatherly man, said, "Miss Iola, I hope that such
happiness is in store for you. My dear child, still continue to pray and
trust. I am old-fashioned enough to believe in prayer. I knew an old
lady living in Illinois, who was a slave. Her son got a chance to come
North and beg money to buy his mother. The mother was badly treated, and
made up her mind to run away. But before she started she thought she
would kneel down to pray. And something, she said, reasoned within her,
and whispered, 'Stand still and see what I am going to do for you.' So
real was it to her that she unpacked her bundle and desisted from her
flight. Strange as it may appear to you, her son returned, bringing
with him money enough to purchase her freedom, and she was redeemed from
bondage. Had she persisted in running away she might have been lost in
the woods and have died, exhausted by starvation. But she believed, she
trusted, and was delivered. Her son took her North, where she could find
a resting place for the soles of her feet."

That night Iola and the bishop left for the South.

CHAPTER XXI.

A HOME FOR MOTHER.

After Iola had left the settlement, accompanied