The period of Frank’s and Art’s apprenticeship had now nearly expired, and it is not too much to say that their conduct reflected the highest credit upon themselves.  Three or four times, we believe, Art had been seduced, in the absence of his brother, by the influence of bad company, to indulge in drink, even to intoxication.  This, during the greater part of a whole apprenticeship, considering his temperament, and the almost daily temptations by which he was beset, must be admitted on the whole to be a very moderate amount of error in that respect.  On the morning after his last transgression, however, apprehending very naturally a strong remonstrance from his brother, he addressed him as follows, in anticipation of what he supposed Frank was about to say:—­

“Now, Frank, I know you’re goin’ to scould me, and what is more, I know I disarve all you could say to me; but there’s one thing you don’t know, an’ that is what I suffer for lettin’ myself be made a fool of last night.  Afther the advices you have so often given me, and afther what my father so often tould us to think of ourselves, and afther the solemn promises I made to you—­and that I broke, I feel as if I was nothin’ more or less than a disgrace to the name.”

“Art,” said the other, “I’m glad to hear you speak as you do; for it’s a proof that repentance is in your heart.  I suppose I needn’t say that it’s your intention not to be caught be these fellows again.”

“By the sacred—­”

“Whisht,” said Frank, clapping his hand upon his mouth; “there’s no use at all in rash oaths, Art.  If your mind is made up honestly and firmly in the sight of God—­and dependin’ upon his assistance, that is enough —­and a great deal betther, too, than a rash oath made in a sudden fit of repentance—­ay, before you’re properly recovered from your liquor.  Now say no more, only promise me you won’t do the like, again.”

“Frank, listen to me—­by all the—­”

“Hould, Art,” replied Frank, stopping him again; “I tell you once more, this rash swearin’ is a bad sign—­I’ll hear no rash oaths; but listen you to me; if your mind is made up against drinkin’ this way again, jist look me calmly and steadily in the face, and answer me simply by yes or no.  Now take your time, an’ don’t be in a hurry—­be cool—­be calm—­reflect upon what you’re about to say; and whether it’s your solemn and serious intention to abide by it.  My question ’ll be very short and very simple; your answer, as I said, will be merely yes or no.  Will you ever allow these fellows to make you drunk again?  Yes or no, an’ not another word.”

“No.”

“That will do,” said Frank; “now give me your hand, and a single word upon what has passed you will never hear from me.”