left his wife, after returning from his daily labour, for a
longer space of time than was necessary to fetch the ale for supper from
one of the neighbouring public-houses. They were perfectly happy in each
other, and in the treasure which had been theirs for nine months, and
wondered why every one could not rest contented as they did, in the pure
delight of home joys.

Day after day, week after week, and even month after month passed away,
and still, to George and Susan Dixon's unbounded astonishment, Timothy
Morris kept his pledge, and into his wretched home there began to creep
an air of comfort. Rags gave place to decent clothing, and the children
no longer fled terrified at their father's approach.

"I've got another piece of news for you, Susan," said George one
evening: "Timothy Morris is announced to speak at the Temperance Hall
to-night."

"Well, I never did! What next?" exclaimed his astonished wife.

"Well, I think the next is that, for the pure fun of the thing, I'll go
and hear him, if you don't mind being left alone, my dear."

"Oh, no, not for once, George. Besides, I should like to know what Tim
will have to say for himself; and you'll bring me word, won't you,
dear?" replied Susan.

"Of course I'll do that; but I must be quick, for two of my mates are
going to call and see if I'm coming. I can tell you it's made quite a
sensation among the men to-day."

"I dare say it has," said Susan, bustling about, and hurrying her
husband's tea.

That evening she waited, with the supper-cloth laid, for an hour past
the usual time; and then, wondering what had kept her husband, took her
post at the street door. Soon she caught sight of three men coming down
the road, and at first thought she recognised George's figure in the
moonlight; but hearing from the trio noisy snatches of song and loud
laughing, she smiled at the absurdity of her mistake. But yet, as they
came nearer, the tones sounded strangely familiar. Her heart sank as
they halted before her, and her husband separated from them, and entered
the house, pushing past his wife, and shouting: "Well, good night,
mates; we've not signed the pledge, as our friend Tim advised, and don't
intend to at present."

"George, where have you been all this time?" said Susan, as she followed
him in.

"In the right place for a Briton who never means to be a slave--to be a
slave," he answered thickly.

"If this is what temperance meetings do for you, George, I thi