flax." And mothers, too, the slaves of the drink-fiend, had
found in that room liberty from their chains. Here, too, would the
vicar preside over meetings of the Temperance and Band of Hope
Committees.

The room was snugly fitted up with a long deal table, as clean as
constant scrubbing could make it, and boasted of a dozen windsor-chairs
and two long benches. There were two cupboards also, one on each side
of a small but brightly burnished grate. In one of these, pledge-books,
cards for members, and temperance tracts and books were kept; in the
other was a stock of Bibles, New Testaments, prayer-books, hymn-books,
and general tracts. A few well-chosen coloured Scripture prints and
illuminated texts adorned the walls; and everything in Bradly's house
was in the most perfect order. You would not find a chair awry, nor
books lying loose about, nor so much as a crumpled bit of paper thrown
on the floor of his "Surgery," nor indeed anywhere about the premises.

When a neighbour once said to him, "I see, Tommy Tracks, you hold with
the saying, `Cleanliness is next to godliness,'"--"Nay, I don't," was
his reply. "I read it another way: `Cleanliness is a part of
godliness.' I can't understand a dirty or disorderly Christian--
leastways, it's very dishonouring to the Master; for dirt and untidiness
and confusion are types and pictures of sin. A true Christian ought to
be clean and tidy outside as well as in. Christ's servants should look
always cleaner and neater than any one else; for aren't we told to adorn
the doctrine of God our Saviour in _all_ things? And don't dirtiness
and untidiness in Christians bring a reproach on religion? And then, if
things are out of their place--all sixes and sevens--why, it's just
setting a trap for your feet. You'll stumble, and lose your temper and
your time, and fuss the life out of other people too, if things aren't
in their proper places, and you can't lay hold of a thing just when you
want it. It's waste of precious time and precious peace, and them's
what Christians can't afford to lose. Why, Jenny Bates, poor soul, used
to lose her temper, and she'd scarce find it afore she lost it again,
and just because she never had anything in decent order. And yet she
were a godly woman; but her light kept dancing about, instead of shining
steadily, as it ought to have done, just because she never knew where to
put her hand on anything she wanted, and everything was in her way and