the great fact that those who wear it are racing
with the demon Drink to save men and women, (ourselves included,
perhaps), from his clutches; racing with Despair to place Hope before
the eyes of those who are blindly rushing to destruction; racing with
Time to snatch the young out of the way of the Destroyer before he lays
hand on them; and singing--ay, shouting--songs of triumph and glory to
God because of the tens of thousands of souls and bodies already saved;
because of the bright prospect of the tens of thousands more to follow;
because of the innumerable voices added to the celestial choir, and the
glad assurance that the hymns of praise thus begun shall not die out
with our feeble frames, but will grow stronger in sweetness as they
diminish in volume, until, the river crossed, they shall burst forth
again with indescribable intensity in the New Song.

"Some people tell us that these things are not true. Others say they
won't last. My friends, I know, and many of you know, that they _are_
true, and even if they were _not_ to last, have we not even now ground
for praise? Shall we not rejoice that the lifeboat has saved some,
because others have refused to embark and perished? But we don't admit
that these things won't last. Very likely, in the apostolic days, some
of the unbelievers said of them and their creed, `How long will it
last?' If these objectors be now able to take note of the world's
doings, they have their answer from Father Time himself; for does he not
say, `Christianity has lasted nearly nineteen hundred years, and is the
strongest moral motive-power in the world to-day?' The Blue Ribbon, my
friends, or what it represents, is founded on Christianity; therefore
the principles which it represents are sure to stand. Who will come now
and put it on?"

"I will!" shouted a strong voice from among the audience, and up rose
the powerful man who began the evening with "bah!" and "pooh!" He soon
made his way to the platform amid uproarious cheering, and donned the
blue.

"Hetty," whispered Mrs Frog in a low, timid voice, "I think I would
like to put it on too."

If the voice had been much lower and more timid, Hetty would have heard
it, for she sat there watching for her mother as one might watch for a
parent in the crisis of a dread disease. She knew that no power on
earth can change the will, and she had waited and prayed till the arrow
was sent home by the hand of God.

"Come along, mother