, and yet there's not one of the whole
lot but's as lean as an empty bobbin, and as white as a heap of cotton.
They're nearly starved to death afore reckoning-day comes; and with all
their good wage they cannot make things reach and tie."

"Well, I must wish you good night now," said Johnson, rising to go. "I
suppose I can do nothing about our Sammul but have patience."

"Yes, pray for patience, Thomas; and pray to be shown the right way: and
give up the drink, man--ay, give it up at once, for Betty's sake, for
Alice's sake, and for your own soul's sake."

"I'll try, I'll try; good night."

"Good night."

Johnson walked homewards sorrowful but calm. Should he take the pledge?
should he boldly break his chains, and brave the scorn of his ungodly
companions? He felt that he ought. He murmured a half prayer that he
might have strength to do it. He reached his own home; he entered--what
did, he see?

Round the fire, slatternly and dirty, with hair uncombed, dress
disordered, shoes down at heel, lolling, lounging, stooping in various
attitudes, were some half-dozen women, Alice being nearest the fire on
one side. Most of them had pipes in their mouths. On the table were
cups and saucers, a loaf and some butter, and also a jug, which
certainly did not hold milk; its contents, however, were very popular,
as it was seldom allowed to rest on the table, while the strong odour of
rum which filled the room showed pretty plainly that it had been filled
at the public-house and not at the farm. Every eye was flashing, and
every tongue in full exercise, when Johnson entered.

"Well, Thomas," said his wife, "I thought you were down at the `George.'
Our Betty's not so well, so she's gone up into the chamber to lay her
down a bit; and I've just been axing a neighbour or two to come in and
have a bit of a talk over our Sammul. Come, sit you down, and take a
cup of tea, and here's summat to put in it as'll cheer you up."

"I've just had my tea at Ned Brierley's," replied her husband; "I don't
want no more."

"Ah, but you must just take one cup. Reach me the jug, Molly. You look
as down as if you'd seen a boggart; [see note 2], you must drink a drop
and keep your spirits up."

He made no reply, but threw himself back on the couch, and drew his cap
over his eyes. Seeing that he was not likely to go out again, the women
dropped off one by one, and left him alone with his wife, who sat
looking into the fire, comforting h