had a drop too
much," said Tom, rather resentfully, "and I was just going away last
night, when Dixon offered me another glass; and Allison laughed and
said, 'Don't you take it, young 'un; head ain't strong and temper too
short.' And I told him I could drink against any man if I chose, and
keep my wits about me too; and Dixon said he'd stand treat, and see
whose head would last the longest, mine or Allison's----"

"With the result that I found you how and when I did, and you've lost
your place into the bargain. Truly the wages of sin are hard,"
commented Mr. Curzon; "but I'm ready to help you, Tom, if you are
willing to help yourself, for I think, to a certain extent, you've been
hardly done by. If you are sorry for what has happened, and really
wish to turn over a new leaf, and make yourself worthy of the girl you
love, you'll take my advice and sign the pledge. If you see your way
to doing this, I know of a situation that I could offer you; if not, I
strongly advise you to go away altogether."

"And leave the field clear for Dixon? I'll never do it!" said Tom,
fiercely. "And what would he call me but a coward if I signed the
pledge, just because I've been beastly drunk once in my life? There's
no reason why I should do it again."

"That you will do it again is an absolute certainty; and with your hot
temper and the rivalry that exists between you and Dixon, there will be
serious mischief if you allow drink to get the upper hand. The place I
offer you is that of gardener at the rectory. Old Plumptree is
retiring on a pension; he's too old to do the work any longer. But I
tell you frankly that I dare not undertake the responsibility of
keeping you here unless I feel that you are determined, God helping
you, to make a better start. You need not decide in a hurry; you can
call to-morrow evening and let me know about it. Until then I will
keep the situation open for you."

It was on the tip of Tom's tongue to tell the rector that he needed no
time for consideration, that he readily accepted the required
condition, and should be thankful for the situation that he offered,
when, as ill-luck would have it, Dixon passed by on a swift-trotting
horse, and turned upon Tom with a mocking smile.

"He thinks I'm catching it," thought poor Tom; "but I'll let him know
better."

"It's not that I'm ungrateful, sir, for your kindness last night, but
my mind's pretty well made up now. I can't face Dixon and Allison, a