to be a stone-mason," he said, in a
sympathizing tone.

"Well, you may have to come to it for all that," the man answered,
speaking very cross.

"Don't snap up the boy so; he meant no harm," urged the other. "Here, my
little fellow, will you take a quid of tobacco?" at the same time
putting a piece in his own mouth.

"Thank you, sir, but I never eat any tobacco. Mamma says it makes people
crave drink; and then they become drunkards."

The cross mason uttered a shocking oath, in connection with the name of
Mrs. Curtis, and started forward with his trowel as if he were about to
strike the boy.

Bertie uttered a cry as though he had been shot. The awful words were
the most dreadful he had ever heard. He, tried to run away, but he
staggered, and looked so pale the man who had offered him the tobacco,
thought he would fall.

"Don't mind him," Alick said to Bertie, "he's been to his bottle too
often, and didn't know what he was talking of."

About fifteen minutes later, Mr. Curtis found his son, sitting on a
stone near the cellar, crying and sobbing as if his heart would break.

It was a very unusual thing for Bertie to cry; and of course his papa
was greatly pained to see him in such distress. He tried to soothe the
child and find out what had troubled him. But Bertie could scarcely
speak at all for his sobs. He could only point to the cellar, and say,
in broken words--"Wicked--man--I'm--afraid--God--wont--let--him--live."

Mr. Curtis left him and walked toward the cellar, where he saw a sight
which explained his son's grief.

One of the masons was just in the act of stooping down for a black
bottle which he held to his mouth, when his companion saw him.

"Hold there," he said, throwing down his hammer. "You've been at it too
often already."

The drunkard threw the empty bottle right in the other mason's face,
uttering the most terrible oaths.

"You'd better be careful; or you'll lose the best job you ever had,"
urged the sober man. "You frightened the Squire's little boy till I
thought he would faint. If he tells his father how you cursed his
mother, you'll be done for. So you'd better quit drinking till this job
is over."

CHAPTER XIII.

THE NEW AVENUE.

The sound of Tom's loud talk to his oxen, started Bertie; and he tried
to stop crying and see whether Jerry was walking by the side of the
drag.

Mr. Curtis motioned to the man to stop, and Tom wondered not a little to
see how stern the Squi