And when it was ended he went up to her, and knelt down by her side, and put his arm around her, oh, so lovingly! "God in Heaven," he said, very solemnly, "I promise to-night, never to touch another drop of liquor as long as I live. Give me strength to keep my pledge, and help me to be a better man." "Oh, father," Susie cried, her arms about his neck, and her head upon his breast, "I'm _so_ glad! I shan't care about anything they say to me now, for I know you won't be a drunkard any more." "God helping me, I will be a _man_!" he answered, as, taking Susie by the hand he went back into the house where his wife was sitting with the old patient look of sorrow on her face.--the look that had become so habitual. I cannot tell you of the joy and thanksgiving that went up from that hearthstone that night. I wish I could, but it was too deep a joy which filled the hearts of Susie and her mother to be described. Was not Susie's prayer answered? There is never a day so dreary, But God can make it bright. And unto the soul that trusts him He giveth songs in the night. There is never a path so hidden, But God will show the way, If we seek the Spirit's guidance, And patiently watch and pray. COMPANY MANNERS. "Well," said Bessie, very emphatically, "I think Russell Morton is the best boy there is, anyhow." "Why so, pet?" I asked, settling myself in the midst of the busy group gathered around in the firelight. "I can tell," interrupted Wilfred, "Bessie likes Russ because he is so polite." "I don't care, you may laugh," said frank little Bess; "that _is_ the reason--at least, one of them. He's nice; he don't stamp and hoot in the house--and he never says, 'Halloo Bess,' or laughs when I fall on the ice." "Bessie wants company manners all the time," said Wilfred. And Bell added: "We should all act grown up, if she had her fastidiousness suited." Bell, be it said in passing, is very fond of long words, and has asked for a dictionary for her next birthday present. Dauntless Bessie made haste to retort, "Well, if growing up would make some folks more agreeable, it's a pity we can't hurry about it." "Wilfred, what are company manners?" interposed I from the depths of my easy chair. "Why--why--they're--It's _behaving_, you know, when folks are here, or we go a visiting." "Company manners are good manners," said Horace, "Oh yes," answered I, meditating on it. "I see; manners that are _too_ good--for mamma--but just right for Mrs. Jones." "That's it," cried Bess. "But let us talk it over a bit. Seriously, why should you be more polite to Mrs. Jones than to mamma? You don't love her better?" "Oh my! no indeed," chorused the voices. "Well, then, I don't see why Mrs. Jones should have all that's agreeable; why the hats should come off, and the tones soften, and 'please,' and 'thank you,' and 'excuse me,' should abound in her house, and not in mamma's." "Oh! that's very different."