“‘I found Graves,’ he went on, ’just the same pliant fool that he has ever been.  He fell into my suggestions at once, and on the very next day advertised his ‘Sub-Treasury.’  It took like a charm.  I could tell you of a dozen young fellows just about being caught by the teetootallers, who couldn’t withstand the new temptation.  There was one in particular.  His name is Joe Bancroft.  Only married about three years, and almost at the bottom of the hill already.  On the day before ‘Sub-Treasury’ was announced, he came home sober, for the first time in six months.  His wife, a beautiful young girl when he married her, but now a thin, pale, heart-broken creature, sat near a window sewing when he entered.  But she did not look up.  She heard him come in—­but she could not turn her eyes towards him, for her heart always grew sicker whenever she saw the sad changes that drink had wrought upon him.

“For a few moments Joe stood gazing at his young wife, with a tenderer interest than he had felt for a long time.  He saw that she did not look up, and was conscious of the reason.

“‘Sarah,’ he at last said, in a voice of affection, coming to her side.

“‘What do you want?’ she replied, still without looking up.

“‘Look up at me, Sarah,’ he said, in a voice that slightly trembled.

“Instantly her work dropped from her hands, and she lifted her eyes to the face of her husband, and murmured in a low, sad tone,

“‘What is it you wish, Joseph?’

“‘You look very pale, and very sorrowful, Sarah,’ her husband said, with increasing tenderness of tone and manner.

“It had been so very long since he had spoken to her kindly, or since he had appeared to take any interest in her, that the first tenderly uttered word melted down her heart, and she burst into tears, and leaning her head against him, sobbed long and passionately.

“With many a kind word, and many a solemn promise of reformation did the husband soothe the stricken heart of his wife, into which a new hope was infused.

“‘I will be a changed man, after this, Sarah,’ he said—­ ’And then it must go well with us.  It seems as if I had been, for the last year, the victim of insanity.  I cannot realize how it is possible for any one to abandon himself as I have done; to the neglect of all the most sacred ties and duties that can appertain to us.  How deeply—­O, how deeply you must have suffered!’

“‘Deeply, indeed, dear husband!—­More than tongue can utter,’ the young wife replied, in a solemn tone.  ’It has seemed, sometimes, as if I must die.  Day after day, week after week, and month after month, to see you coming in and going out, as you have done, for ever intoxicated.  To have no kind word or look.  No rational intercourse with one to whom I had yielded up my heart so confidingly.  O, my husband! you know not how sad a trial you have imposed upon your wife!’

“’Sad—­sad, indeed, I am sure it has been, Sarah!  But let us try and forget the past.  There is bright sunshine yet for us, and it will soon, I trust, fall warmly and cheeringly on our pathway.’