alth and welfare of his children. I
remember when John Orland was a handsome young man, he drank, sometimes
to excess. Kittie Claiborne knew this, and her friends opposed her
marrying him, but she thought she could reform him, and you know the
result. Her husband is a confirmed drunkard, as is her youngest son. The
oldest drinks, too, though not to such excess, and you know that Kitty
Orland, such a beautiful girl, has more than once been found under the
influence of liquor. The second girl died of consumption, and the second
son is weak-minded."

"But, mamma, do you mean that this is all because Mr. Orland drinks?"

"The observation of scientific men as to the effects of alcohol through
inheritance would lead us to think so. I find this little item in the
paper. You may read it."

Helen read--

"European scientists have recently given much attention to the physical
degradation among children which they believe to be the result of
intemperance on the part of the parents. A startling example was
recently published in the _London Daily News_:

"Some months ago a workman and his wife, accompanied by a small boy of
four, waited on Doctor Garnier, the physician who presides over the
insanity ward at the Paris Depot, or Central Police Station. The parents
were in great distress, and the story they had to tell was that on two
occasions the lad, their son, who was with them, had attempted to murder
his baby brother. On the last occasion the mother had just arrived in
time to prevent him from cutting the baby's throat with a pair of
scissors.

"Examined by Doctor Garnier, the child declared it was quite true that
he wished to murder his brother, and that it was his firm intention to
accomplish his purpose, sooner or later.

"Taking the parents into an adjoining room, Doctor Garnier said to the
father, 'Are you a drinker?'

"The man protested indignantly. He had never been drunk in his life. His
wife backed up his assertion. Her husband, she said, was the most sober
of men.

"'Hold out your hand at arm's length,' said the doctor.

"The man obeyed. After a few seconds the hand began that devil's dance
to which alcohol fiddles the tune.

"'As I thought,' said the doctor. 'My poor fellow, you are an
_alcoholique_.'

"He questioned the man, who, with tears in his eyes, related that, being
a brewer's drayman, it was his duty to deliver casks of beer to his
master's customers, carrying the casks up to various stages. A