heap and fetches a shovel of coal, and claps it on the top of the hot
cinders, and she won't let our Esther poke it no more, so it burns
steady and bright, and throws out a good heat, and lasts a long time.
Now, when you take your drop of beer, you're just poking the fire,
you're not putting any coal on; you can work like a lion for a bit, but
you're only using up the old stock of strength faster and faster, you're
not putting on any new. I've helped you to put a little gradely coal on
to-night, and I hope it won't be the last time by many."

"Father," broke in Esther, laughing, and highly entertained at the part
she bore in her father's illustration, "when you tell your tale again,
you must make our Mary stick to the poker, and me clap the coal on."

"Ay, ay, child," said her father, "you shall each take it in turn."

"Well, you may be right," sighed Johnson; "but Jack Barnes says as he's
knowed scores of teetottallers that's wasted away to skin and bone for
want of the drink; he says beer strengthens the bone, and makes the
muscles tight and firm."

"Jack Barnes may say what he likes, but I'll just ask you, Thomas, to
think and judge for yourself. You see me and mine; you see seven total
abstainers here to-night. Not one of these childer knows the taste of
the drink; they work hard, you know, some in the pit, some in the mill:
do _they_ look nothing but skin and bone? Where'll you find healthier
childer? I'm not boasting, for it's the good Lord that's given 'em
health, yes, and strength too, without the drink."

"Ay, and just look at Jack Barnes's own lads, and the company they
keep," said John, the eldest son; "you may see them all at the four lane
ends, [Note 1], any Sunday morn, with their pigeons, looking more like
scarecrows than Christians; and afore night they'll be so weary that
they'll scarce know how to bide anywhere. They'll be lounging about,
looking as limp as a strap out of gear, till they've got the ale in
them, and then they're all for swearing and shouting up and down the
lanes."

"I can't deny," said Johnson, "that you teetottallers have the best of
it in many ways. It's a bad bringing-up for childer to see such goings-
on as is in Barnes's house."

"And, Thomas," said Brierley's wife, "you know how it is with Joe
Taylor's lads and wenches. There's a big family on 'em. They're not
short of brass in that house, or shouldn't be. There's drink enough and
to spare goes down their throats