For John's Sake Part 8

He looked up. How could he have overlooked that figure with eager hands stretched out towards him! Yes, it was his trusting, loving Ruth, who, unasked, had crossed the seas to help and cheer him in the hard battle he was fighting for her sake.

"Oh, Ruthie," he said, as he grasped her hands; "I don't deserve this.

Why have you come, darling?"

"Why, I came for your sake, of course, John; but are you quite sure you want me?"

"You may well ask that, for I've been a brute to you; and now I know I ought to have written to you, but you might have sent me a line, Ruth."

"So I did, and I believe d.i.c.k must have got it."

"The scamp!" exclaimed John.

"Ah, don't say anything unkind now, for it's all happened for the best."

Then Mr. Graham came up, and John went to see about Ruth's luggage, further explanations and news from home being reserved till the evening, when John had finished his day's work.

When Ruth's long story was finished, John sat thoughtful and silent for some time.

"Yes, Ruthie, I do feel you are right. I want a stronger power than even my love for you to keep me from yielding to temptation, and I will from this time give my whole life, with its many sins and mistakes, into the Hand of the One who will forgive all, and make me a new creature," he presently said.

"Thank G.o.d for that; we can help each other now, John!"

It was only a humble home to which John took Ruth a few months later; but mutual love and trust made it the happiest place on earth to the two who had waited so long for the fulfilment of their hopes.

"Guess what news I've got, John," said Ruth, with a beaming face one morning, shortly after she had been installed as mistress.

"You've drawn your money out of the Savings Bank, and taken pa.s.sage in the steamer that leaves for England to-day."

"Foolish boy! No, I've had a letter from Alice, and she says that master and mistress have agreed to give up all intoxicants, and they say it's all through our example. How delighted I am, to be sure, aren't you, John?"

"Yes, little woman, I'm very pleased; but don't say our example, for you set the example, and you ought to have all the credit."

"Ah, John, you know I did it all for your sake, dear," whispered the happy wife.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

HOW THE FOE CREPT IN.[A]

CHAPTER I.

MODERATE DRINKING.

"I SAY, mother, what do you think's the latest joke?" said a respectable artisan to his wife, as he entered his home with his bag of tools slung across his shoulder.

"I'm sure I can't guess, George," answered the woman, with a pleasant smile on her face as she welcomed her husband.

"Well, don't drop the baby when I tell you. Tim Morris has signed the pledge!"

"Good gracious, George, you don't say so! Why, do you know, his poor wife came in yesterday morning to borrow sixpence, for they hadn't a loaf of bread or a bit of coal in the house; and Tim was out then, drinking like a beast. Really I can't help saying such things, George."

"Well this is what I'm told, Susan. He was picked out of the gutter yesterday evening by some teetotal folks, and taken to one of their meetings; and, drunk as he was, he signed, and then they saw him home, and early this morning they were round to see how he was; and anyhow he declares he is going to stick to it. They've taken him on at the works, and given him another chance of redeeming his character."

"I'm very glad to hear it, George; and if the teetotal folks keep Tim Morris out of the gutter, I'll never say another word against them, and shan't let you either."

"I don't think I shall want to if they do; but I've very little hope, Susan. It'll be the first time that ever I heard of a man who had sunk so low being reclaimed."

"Yes; all I've ever given that kind of people credit for doing, is to get as many little ones into their meetings--Bands of Hope, don't they call them?--and make them sign the pledge, and as soon as ever they get to a sensible age, they find out how foolish they've been, and break all their fine promises. And no wonder, for I don't know how people could get on without their gla.s.s of ale or porter two or three times a day. I couldn't for one."

"And I'm sure I should be lost without my pint at dinner and supper,"

echoed George, adding: "I guess we're the moderate drinkers teetotalers rave about."

"Stuff and nonsense," answered Susan. "Why can't they abuse the creatures who never know when they've had enough for their own good, without wanting to take one of our necessary comforts from us, when we pay our way, and are decent, respectable people?"

"That's just what I say, wife. Such folks have neither sense nor reason on their side. But I can forgive them all their mistakes if they only turn Tim Morris into a sober man."

"Well, sit down, George, and hold the baby, while I put the tea into the pot. Go to father, mother's little pet;" and Susan Dixon placed the well-cared-for baby on her father's knee, where, amidst delighted screams and plunges, she speedily found congenial employment in burying her fat dimpled hands in his ma.s.ses of brown hair.

"There, there, Mattie, won't that do for you, little la.s.s?" said he, as he gave her back to her mother, crying with disappointment at the sudden termination of her delightful frolic.

"She does get on well, mother," he added, looking with fatherly pride on her rounded limbs and rosy cheeks.

"There's no earthly reason why she shouldn't, with all the care that's taken of her. Oh dear! it makes my heart ache when poor Mrs. Morris steps in here sometimes, with her sickly-looking child fretting in her arms, and our Mattie looking so different; I'd rather bury her, George, than see her like that."

"I tell you, Susan, I think that a man who ruins the health and prospects of his wife and children ought to be treated as a felon, and sent to prison until he'd learnt to behave himself as he ought;" said George.

The conversation turned shortly after upon other matters, and presently, baby being put to bed, the husband and wife settled down to their usual pleasant evening; for never since his marriage, two years before, had George left his wife, after returning from his daily labour, for a longer s.p.a.ce of time than was necessary to fetch the ale for supper from one of the neighbouring public-houses. They were perfectly happy in each other, and in the treasure which had been theirs for nine months, and wondered why every one could not rest contented as they did, in the pure delight of home joys.

Day after day, week after week, and even month after month pa.s.sed away, and still, to George and Susan Dixon's unbounded astonishment, Timothy Morris kept his pledge, and into his wretched home there began to creep an air of comfort. Rags gave place to decent clothing, and the children no longer fled terrified at their father's approach.

"I've got another piece of news for you, Susan," said George one evening: "Timothy Morris is announced to speak at the Temperance Hall to-night."

"Well, I never did! What next?" exclaimed his astonished wife.

"Well, I think the next is that, for the pure fun of the thing, I'll go and hear him, if you don't mind being left alone, my dear."

"Oh, no, not for once, George. Besides, I should like to know what Tim will have to say for himself; and you'll bring me word, won't you, dear?" replied Susan.