I made them a Christmas present of a piece of roasting beef, fifty pounds weight of apples, and the same amount of potatoes, while former friends to whom I had spoken of their destitution, sent tea, sugar and milk, also shoes and stockings for the children. After this sumptuous holiday feast, severely cold weather followed. Careless housekeepers in all ranks of life allowed their water pipes to burst, and great was the demand for plumbers’ work, especially in the suburbs of Boston. Mary’s former friends were willing to employ her husband again, under his promise of strict sobriety, as they would not risk the danger of house-burning by the carelessness of a tipsy plumber. Mary cooked him substantial dinners of the description given above, and he felt like a man again in his home. Being skillful as a workman and very obliging in disposition, he gained friends while jobbing in the different houses. Those who had known him before encouraged him to persevere and finally persuaded him to remove to one of those suburban towns where his business would be in good demand and where he would escape from the temptation of eating house and drinking saloon. Meantime, Mary had learned good lessons during these sixteen weeks. She now knew how to provide and cook good, cheap and wholesome meals, and soon adapted herself entirely to such ways and means as his earnings would provide. It is now 1896, and the twenty years are completed since the beginning of that time of misery in that family, who now own three houses, in one of which Mary’s husband carries on a fine, thriving business, over the entrance door of which may be read the sign “John Smith & Son.” Another house is occupied by them as a dwelling, and the third, an investment of their earnings, is rented to their daughter’s husband who is foreman in their business. Their life is simple and plain but comfortable, and when I met Mary recently, she told me that she had taught all the children, two boys and two girls, how to cook and how to mend clothes, and with great pride she assured me that corned beef and cabbage is their favorite dish, “although the children will often make ice cream for Sunday dessert.” The second sketch alluded to (_The Woman’s Journal_, May 13, 1893) is: ANOTHER TRUE STORY Some years ago, the wife of a farmer living not many miles from Boston came to my office to consult me, because she feared she was suffering from a disease such as can only befall a woman and which she fully believed was “killing her by inches.” With sunken cheeks, dull eyes, sallow complexion, pale lips and no more flesh on her limbs than was necessary to make locomotion possible, the woman sat there and told of her ailments--sleeplessness, utter lack of appetite, backache, depression of spirits, etc.