How passing strange is the effect of drunkenness upon the mind and character of a man!  Is it not wonderful how the tender, affectionate, and provident husband and father can become so changed into a worse than brutal insensibility to all the sacred duties of life?  Is it not wonderful how the man, who would, to-day, sacrifice even life itself for the safety of his family—­who thinks nothing of toil, early and late, that he may provide for every want, can in a few years forsake them, and leave them to struggle, single-handed, with sickness and poverty?  But so it is!  Instances of such heartless abandonment are familiar to every one.  “Surely,” as it has been said, “strong drink is a devil!” For he that comes under its influence is transformed into a worse than brutal nature.

For a time after Lee went away, his wife was enabled, by sewing, to meet the scanty wants of herself and child.  The burden of his support had been removed, and that was something gained.  But a severe illness, during which both herself and little Jane suffered much for the want of nourishing food, left her with impaired sight.  She could no longer, by sewing, earn the money required to buy food and pay her rent, and was compelled to resort to severe bodily toil to accomplish that end.

From several of the old friends of her better days, she had obtained sewing, and necessity compelled her to resort to them for still humbler employment.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee!  I have been wondering what in the world had become of you,” said one of those former friends, a Mrs. Walker, as the poor woman called to see her, after her recovery.

“I have been very sick,” replied Mrs. Lee, in a low feeble voice, and her appearance told too plainly the effects of the sickness upon her.

“I’m sorry to hear it.  But I am very glad you are out again, for my sewing is all behindhand.”

“I’m afraid that I shall not be able to do any more sewing for a good while,” said Mrs. Lee, despondingly.

“Indeed!  And why not?”

“Because my eyes have become so weak that I can scarcely see.”

“Then what do you expect to do?  How will you get along, Mrs. Lee?”

“I can hardly tell myself.  But I must do something.”

“What can you do besides sewing?”

“I don’t know of any thing, unless I take in washing.”

“Take in washing!  You are not fit to stand at the washing tub.”

“I know that, ma’am.  But when we are driven to it, we can do a great many things, even though we gradually fail under our task.”

A pause of a few moments ensued, which was broken by Mrs. Lee.

“Will you not give me your washing to do, Mrs. Walker?” she asked, hesitatingly.

“Why, I don’t know about that, Mrs. Lee.  I never put my washing out of the house.”

“You hire some one in the house, then?”

“Yes, and if you will come for what I pay my present washerwoman, why I suppose I might as well throw it in your way.”