For John's Sake Part 15

Tim continued: "Ye're both uv ye makin' a therrible big misthake that'll ruin ye in time an' etarnity. Here's Jack, a sheer lump uv misary, wid no heart for wark nor play, an' here's yerself a frettin' an' a pinin'

yer life away; an' yer poor childer's like to thread in yer stheps. An'

here's mesilf an' me wife, no betther an' no wurse off in the matther uv bra.s.s nor ye, as happy an' comforthable as ye'd wish, an' all bekase uv that same big misthake ye're makin'."

"What do you mean, Tim?" inquired Mrs. Jarvis, wiping her eyes.

"Jack 'ud know what I mane, for he's had the lingth uv me tongue many's the time on that same subjact; but I'll till ye, an' maybe ye'll lay it to heart betther nor he. Mrs. Jarvis, if ye'll belave me, it's the dhrink that's at the botthom uv yer misary."

"I won't hear you say such dreadful things, Tim. My Jack's no drinker, nor me neither. We're both of us moderate, and never--never--" but here Mrs. Jarvis faltered; and, eyeing her steadily, Tim went on:

"Ye niver, niver take a dhrop too much 'cept on holiday times, an' sich like; an' thin, what wid the boddher uv the childer, an' the sayte seein', an' the heat, maybe ye git a little overcome wid what ye take to quanch yer thirst."

"I dare say you're right, Tim," said Mrs. Jarvis, very much ashamed; "but I mean to say that my Jack and me don't do what some folks do in the way of drinking. He doesn't spend his evenings in the public, except now and then; and, as for me, I only take what will keep body and soul together, though I confess you're pretty near the truth as to taking more than is good on holidays."

"Well, we won't say anythin' about sich times. But supposin' it's to-day, ye'll kape about till the childer's home from school, an' the first thing'll be: 'Here, Sammie, fetch me a pint of bitther,'--it's bitther, I suppose?"

"Yes, I can't drink swill, there's no strength in it," said Mrs. Jarvis.

"Then you'll feel spry for a bit; but it don't last, an' ye want to sit down an' take a nap afore the fire; an' whin ye git up ye feel out uv sorts, an' the babby's a burdhen, an' yer toddlin' Jim's a plague; an'

by the time that afthernoon school's done ye want windin' up agin, an'

ye must have half a pint afore ye touch yer tay; an' whin Jack fetches the supper beer, ye're more than riddy to take yer share. Thin ye slape heavy like, an' if the babby wants seein' to ye can scarce wake; an' ye don't know how to dhrag yersilf up in the mornin', an' ye wish ye'd got a dhrink uv beer handy to give ye a sthart, on'y ye haven't the face to sind for it afore breakfast; but, ye may belave me, ye'll do that wan uv these days; an' the more ye take uv the pisenin' stuff, the more ye'll want, an' the wurse ye'll feel, for there's no strength an' no good in it at all, at all. It jist gives ye a little spurt for the time, but it's over in a jiffy, an' ye're cross an' fretful wid iverythin' an'

iverybody, an' life's a burdhen from morn till night. An' it's jist the same wid Jack, poor bhoy. An' thin, whin ye might git a few hours of plasure, ye're in an' out uv the public-houses till ye're fair fuddled; an' the nixt day ye've both sore heads and sour tempers, an' yer money's gone inter the bargain."

"Do you really think there's no good in the beer, Tim? It does seem to put new life into one; and I hanker after it when I'm weakly."

"Uv coorse, that's nateral, whin ye feel sthronger an' betther afther a gla.s.s; but I've sthudied the quastion, an' wiser heads nor mine'll tell ye jist as I do,--that it takes out uv a bodhy more nor it iver puts in.

It gives ye for a s.p.a.ce what ye want; but ye have to pay for it at an awful rate uv intherest."

Mrs. Jarvis looked frightened; but Tim proceeded in still graver tones:

"It's the mortal thruth as I'm tellin' ye, indade an' indade; for ye have to pay for ivery bit uv go that yer gla.s.s uv bitther gives ye wid yer ha'pence first, uv coorse, an' afther wid loss uv yer good timper, an' the time ye spind in pullin' yersilf togither agin. Ye have to pay wid a wakely bodhy and a heavy heart; so the childer's sint out uv yer sayte to git inter mischif an' sin; and yer husban' niver sees yer face wid a smile on it, an' niver hears ye spake a kindly word. An' sooner nor later ye'll find ye'll have to pay for yer bitther wid the loss uv husban' an' childer; for, ye may belave me, the time'll come, bad cess to ye, whin Jack'll spind ivery blissid night at the public, an' yer childer will make ye sup sorra be rasin uv turnin' to bad ways; for there's no worritin' wives at the public, an' no grumblin' mothers round the sthreet corners. An' that's the last worrud I can say, for the bell'll ring afore another minit."

With a nod to his wife, and a kindly "good mornin'" to Mrs. Jarvis, Tim hastened away.

"My missis says I'm to fitch ye home to dinner wid me, Jack, an' she's tould yer wife that same; so come along wid ye, for ye'll git nought but air for all ye're growlin' if ye stay there," were the words that fell on John Jarvis's astonished ears, as he lay watching his companion get into his coat at the dinner hour.

"Well, I never, if that don't beat all," he exclaimed, jumping up and seizing his own coat. "What's put that into her head?"

"Case yer quastions an' look sharp now, for I want ye to have a look round me bit uv ground afther dinner," good-humouredly replied Tim.

The meal to which John presently sat down was simple enough but abundant, and such as he seldom partook of at his own table. He could not help also contrasting the bright, happy faces of Tim's wife and children with his own. He became silent and absorbed in thought, as he walked round Tim's garden when the repast was ended.

"Ye're an' illigant slip uv a pig, an'll make good mate to ralish the bread an' praties nixt winter, shure now, won't ye?" said Tim, addressing himself to the bristly porker who grunted his approval of his master's hand, as the two men leaned over the sty.

"I'd advase ye to kape a pig, Jack; ye've no idaya how handy a bit uv bacon is through the winter, wid so many mouths to be fadin'."

"You might just as well advise me to set up a carriage and pair,"

answered John, somewhat testily.

"Nonsinse, ye might do it jist as aisy as mesilf."

"I'd like to know how you make that out, when I never have a penny to bless myself with after I've paid up on Sat.u.r.day nights."

"Jist tell me how much ye an' yer ould woman spind a week in beer," was the unexpected reply.

"At yer old game, matey, eh; well, really now, I can't say. Perhaps I take three pints a day; not much for a working man, Tim."

"An' maybe yer wife wad take a pint an' a half uv bitther, that wad make sixpence a day for yersilf, an' fourpence ha'pinny for hersilf; an' ye know ye ofthen spind more nor that. That 'ud make six shillin' an' a pinny three farthin's a wake; wan poun' six shillin' an' eight pince a month; an' sixteen poun' a year. How many pigs de ye sind down yer throats at that rate in the coorse uv twelve months, me bhoy?"

John Jarvis stood open-eyed and open-mouthed.

"Sixteen pound a year! What on earth have I been a doin'? Sixteen pound a year; who'd have thought it!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed presently; and no more could Tim get out of him, till, late in the afternoon of that day, he emptied a hod of bricks at Tim's feet with such energy that Tim looked up astonished.

"I've made up my mind, Tim, to have a pig. I've been a fool, and thank'ee for as good as tellin' of me;" and then, as if afraid to trust himself to say more, he turned away to his work.

That night he and his wife, in the course of a long conversation, not necessary to record here, made certain resolves; two of which were never to spend any money in beer, and to try and do their duty better to each other and their children than they ever had done.

In future years they never ceased to be thankful for the promises then made, which, being faithfully kept, bore fruit in a happy home, and the envied worldly prosperity which was their neighbour's.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE MOTHER'S MISTAKE.

HALF a dozen little children brimful of life and frolic, a delicate wailing infant, an indolent maid of all work, and a careworn anxious mother, wearied with sleepless nights and the burden of domestic cares!

"Poor thing! no wonder you look exhausted!" said a friend who had called, and was listening with a sympathetic ear to the story of a woman's fretting cares and heavy responsibilities.

"I wouldn't mind if only my health were vigorous, and I had physical strength to face life bravely," sighed Mrs. Stewart in reply.

"Do let me beg you to take all the care of yourself that you can. You must think not only of the present, but of the future, for these little ones who need such unceasing toil now will want your loving thought and oversight for many years to come; and for their sake, and your husband's, it is your bounden duty to stimulate your flagging energies and strengthen your system to meet the constant demand upon it," was the response.

"How can I?" despairingly asked Mrs. Stewart; "you see baby, poor little fellow, fills my arms night and day, and seldom gives me a chance of taking proper rest."

"I know of only one way in which, overtaxed as you are, you can prevent yourself from breaking down under such pressure, and that is, by taking stimulants in one form or another. When you feel nervous and depressed, don't hesitate to take a gla.s.s of wine, and before commencing your dinner and supper take a little malt liquor to give you an appet.i.te, for after attending to the children's wants I am sure you must feel disinclined to eat anything yourself."

"Yes, I am often unable to eat a mouthful of solid food; but thanks for your advice; I will try what a little stimulant will do for me."

So Mrs. Stewart commenced the daily use of alcoholic stimulants, and finding their effects to be beneficial to body and mind, and knowing little or nothing of the subtle danger that lurked in the poisoned cup, each domestic emergency that arose was ere long met in the fict.i.tious strength afforded by the ready stimulant.

Years pa.s.sed away, and the children, whose ceaseless demands upon their mother's patience and love had well-nigh exhausted her strength, grew into girlhood and boyhood.

One morning the family was seated at the breakfast table when the servant brought in a letter enclosing a bill with the familiar signature of a well-known firm of brewers. The husband's brows knitted as he glanced down the items.