Regular proceedings were entered upon for the settlement of the mortgage, and hurried to an issue as speedily as possible.  It was all in vain that Mr. Bacon sought to borrow three hundred dollars, or to find some person willing to take the mortgage on his farm, and let him continue to pay the interest.  It was a season when few had money to spare, and those who could have advanced the sum required, hesitated about investing it where there was little hope of getting the amount back again except by execution and sale.  For, Mr. Bacon, in consequence of his intemperance, was steadily running behindhand; and all his neighbours knew it.

The effect of this trouble on the mind of Mr. Bacon was to cause him to drink harder than before.  His cheerful temper gave place to a silent moodiness, when in partial states of sobriety, which where now of rare occurrence, and he lost all interest in things around him.  A greater part of his time was spent in wandering restlessly about his house or farm, but he put his hand to scarcely any work.

Deeply distressed were Mrs. Bacon and Mary.  Each of them had called, at different times on Mr. Dyer, in the hope of moving him by persuasion to turn from his purpose.

But, only in one way would he agree to an amicable settlement, and that was, by taking the farm for the mortgage and three hundred dollars cash; by which means he would come into possession of property worth from twelve to fifteen hundred dollars.  This offer he repeated to Mary, who was the last to call upon him in the hope of turning him from his purpose.

“No!  Mr. Dyer,” said the young girl firmly, even while tears were in her eyes.  “My father will not let the place go at a third of its real value.”

“He over-estimates its worth,” replied Dyer, with some impatience, “and he’ll find this out when it comes under the hammer.”

“You will not, I am sure you will not, sacrifice my father’s little place,—­the home of his children,” said Mary, in an appealing voice.

“I shall certainly let things take their course,” replied the tavern-keeper.  “Tell your father, from me, that he has nothing to hope for from any change in my purpose, and that he need make no more efforts to influence me.  I will buy the place, as I said, for six hundred dollars, its full value, or I will sell it for my claim.”

And saying this, the man left, abruptly, the room in which his interview with Mary was held, and she, hopeless of making any impression on his feelings, arose and retired from the house, taking, with a sad heart, her way homeward.  Never before had Mary, a gentle-hearted, quiet, retiring girl, been forced into such rough contact with the world at any point.  Of this act of intercession for her father, Mr. Bacon knew nothing.  Had she dropped (sic) a a word of her purpose in his hearing, he would have uttered a positive interdiction.  He loved Mary as the apple of his eye, and she loved him with a tender, self-devoted affection.  To him, she was a choice and beautiful flower, and even though his mind had become, in a certain degree, degraded and debased by intemperance, there was in it a quick instinct of protection when any thing approached his child.