This was a temperance lecture.  Sellers was head chief in the Temperance camp, and had lectured, now and then in that interest, but had been dissatisfied with his efforts; wherefore he was now about to try a new plan.  After much thought he had concluded that a main reason why his lectures lacked fire or something, was, that they were too transparently amateurish; that is to say, it was probably too plainly perceptible that the lecturer was trying to tell people about the horrid effects of liquor when he didn’t really know anything about those effects except from hearsay, since he had hardly ever tasted an intoxicant in his life.  His scheme, now, was to prepare himself to speak from bitter experience.  Hawkins was to stand by with the bottle, calculate the doses, watch the effects, make notes of results, and otherwise assist in the preparation.  Time was short, for the ladies would be along about noon—­that is to say, the temperance organization called the Daughters of Siloam—­and Sellers must be ready to head the procession.

The time kept slipping along—­Hawkins did not return—­Sellers could not venture to wait longer; so he attacked the bottle himself, and proceeded to note the effects.  Hawkins got back at last; took one comprehensive glance at the lecturer, and went down and headed off the procession.  The ladies were grieved to hear that the champion had been taken suddenly ill and violently so, but glad to hear that it was hoped he would be out again in a few days.

As it turned out, the old gentleman didn’t turn over or show any signs of life worth speaking of for twenty-four hours.  Then he asked after the procession, and learned what had happened about it.  He was sorry; said he had been “fixed” for it.  He remained abed several days, and his wife and daughter took turns in sitting with him and ministering to his wants.  Often he patted Sally’s head and tried to comfort her.

“Don’t cry, my child, don’t cry so; you know your old father did it by mistake and didn’t mean a bit of harm; you know he wouldn’t intentionally do anything to make you ashamed for the world; you know he was trying to do good and only made the mistake through ignorance, not knowing the right doses and Washington not there to help.  Don’t cry so, dear, it breaks my old heart to see you, and think I’ve brought this humiliation on you and you so dear to me and so good.  I won’t ever do it again, indeed I won’t; now be comforted, honey, that’s a good child.”

But when she wasn’t on duty at the bedside the crying went on just the same; then the mother would try to comfort her, and say: 

“Don’t cry, dear, he never meant any harm; it was all one of those happens that you can’t guard against when you are trying experiments, that way.  You see I don’t cry.  It’s because I know him so well.  I could never look anybody in the face again if he had got into such an amazing condition as that a-purpose; but bless you his intention was pure and high, and that makes the act pure, though it was higher than was necessary.  We’re not humiliated, dear, he did it under a noble impulse and we don’t need to be ashamed.  There, don’t cry any more, honey.”