“Can’t do it,” answered Frank, sadly.

“Lodge,” groaned Jack, for both considered a drive in the cart, where they all sat in a merry bunch among the hay, one of the joys of life, and much regretted that a prior engagement would prevent their sharing in it.

“That’s a pity!  I forgot it was Tuesday, and can’t put it off, as I’ve asked all the rest.  Give up your old Lodge and come along,” said Gus, who had not joined yet.

“We might for once, perhaps, but I don’t like to”—­began Jack, hesitating.

“I won’t.  Who’s to propose Bob if we don’t?  I want to go awfully; but I wouldn’t disappoint Bob for a good deal, now he is willing to come.”  And Frank sprang off his post as if anxious to flee temptation, for it was very pleasant to go singing, up hill and down dale, in the spring moonlight, with—­well, the fellows of his set.

“Nor Ed, I forgot that.  No, we can’t go.  We want to be Good Templars, and we mustn’t shirk,” added Jack, following his brother.

“Better come.  Can’t put it off.  Lots of fun,” called Gus, disappointed at losing two of his favorite mates.

But the boys did not turn back, and as they went steadily away they felt that they were doing their little part in the good work, and making their small sacrifices, like faithful members.

They got their reward, however, for at home they found Mr. Chauncey, a good and great man, from England, who had known their grandfather, and was an honored friend of the family.  The boys loved to hear him talk, and all tea-time listened with interest to the conversation, for Mr. Chauncey was a reformer as well as a famous clergyman, and it was like inspiring music to hear him tell about the world’s work, and the brave men and women who were carrying it on.  Eager to show that they had, at least, begun, the boys told him about their Lodge, and were immensely pleased when their guest took from his pocket-book a worn paper, proving that he too was a Good Templar, and belonged to the same army as they did.  Nor was that all, for when they reluctantly excused themselves, Mr. Chauncey gave each a hearty “grip,” and said, holding their hands in his, as he smiled at the young faces looking up at him with so much love and honor in them,—­

“Tell the brothers and sisters that if I can serve them in any way while here, to command me.  I will give them a lecture at their Lodge or in public, whichever they like; and I wish you God-speed, dear boys.”

Two prouder lads never walked the streets than Frank and Jack as they hurried away, nearly forgetting the poor little paper in their haste to tell the good news; for it was seldom that such an offer was made the Lodge, and they felt the honor done them as bearers of it.