Day after day, week after week, and even month after month passed away, and still, to George and Susan Dixon's unbounded astonishment, Timothy Morris kept his pledge, and into his wretched home there began to creep an air of comfort. Rags gave place to decent clothing, and the children no longer fled terrified at their father's approach. "I've got another piece of news for you, Susan," said George one evening: "Timothy Morris is announced to speak at the Temperance Hall to-night." "Well, I never did! What next?" exclaimed his astonished wife. "Well, I think the next is that, for the pure fun of the thing, I'll go and hear him, if you don't mind being left alone, my dear." "Oh, no, not for once, George. Besides, I should like to know what Tim will have to say for himself; and you'll bring me word, won't you, dear?" replied Susan. "Of course I'll do that; but I must be quick, for two of my mates are going to call and see if I'm coming. I can tell you it's made quite a sensation among the men to-day." "I dare say it has," said Susan, bustling about, and hurrying her husband's tea. That evening she waited, with the supper-cloth laid, for an hour past the usual time; and then, wondering what had kept her husband, took her post at the street door. Soon she caught sight of three men coming down the road, and at first thought she recognised George's figure in the moonlight; but hearing from the trio noisy snatches of song and loud laughing, she smiled at the absurdity of her mistake. But yet, as they came nearer, the tones sounded strangely familiar. Her heart sank as they halted before her, and her husband separated from them, and entered the house, pushing past his wife, and shouting: "Well, good night, mates; we've not signed the pledge, as our friend Tim advised, and don't intend to at present." "George, where have you been all this time?" said Susan, as she followed him in. "In the right place for a Briton who never means to be a slave--to be a slave," he answered thickly. "If this is what temperance meetings do for you, George, I think you'd better stay at home," said his wife in displeased tones. "Don't be high and mighty, my dear; we weren't going to hear Tim Morris declare that the public-house wasn't a fit place for a respectable man to put his nose inside, without showing him that he'd made a confounded teetotaler's mistake; and being three respectable men, we went in, and took our supper beer there, instead of in our own homes. That's all right, isn't it?" he asked defiantly. "If you had stopped at your own supper beer it might have been; but it looks more than likely that you drank your own and your wife's share too, judging from appearances," answered Susan bitterly, for she had been feeling the want of her usual stimulant for some time past. "You can fetch yours, my dear; I've no objection, I'm sure."