In about the same ratio that the external condition of Thomas Jones improved, did that of Ralph Lyon grow worse and worse. From not being able to save any thing, he gradually began to fall in debt. When quarter-day came round, there was generally several dollars wanting to make up the rent; and their landlord, with much grumbling on his part, was compelled to wait for the balance some two or three weeks beyond the due-day. At length the quarter-day found Ralph with nothing laid by for his rent. Somehow or other, he was not able to earn as much, from sickness, and days lost from other causes; and what he did earn appeared to melt away like snow in the sunshine. Poor Mrs. Lyon felt very miserable at the aspect of things; more especially, as in addition to the money squandered at the ale-house by her husband, he often came home intoxicated. The grief to her was more severe, from the fact that she loved Ralph tenderly, notwithstanding his errors. When he came home in liquor, she did not chide him, nor did she say any thing to him about it when he was sober; for then he appeared so ashamed and cut down, that she could not find it in her heart to utter a single word. One day she was alarmed by a message from Ralph that he had been arrested, while at his work, for debt, by his landlord, who was going to throw him in jail. They now owed him over twenty dollars. The idea of her husband being thrown into a jail was terrible to poor Mrs. Lyon. She asked a kind neighbor to take care of her children for her, and then putting on her bonnet, she almost flew to the magistrate’s office. There was Ralph, with an officer by his side ready to remove him to prison. “You shan’t take my husband to jail,” she said, wildly, when she saw the real aspect of things, clinging fast hold of Ralph. “Nobody shall take him to jail.” “I am sorry, my good woman,” said the magistrate, “to do so, but it can’t be helped. The debt must be paid, or your husband will have to go to jail. I have no discretion in the matter. Can you find means to pay the debt? If not, perhaps you had better go and see your landlord; you may prevail on him to wait a little longer for his money, and not send your husband to jail.” “Yes, Sally, do go and see him,” said Ralph; “I am sure he will relent when he sees you.” Mrs. Lyon let go the arm of her husband, and, darting from the office, ran at full speed to the house of their landlord. “Oh, sir!” she exclaimed, “you cannot, you will not send my husband to jail.” “I both can and will,” was the gruff reply. “A man who drinks up his earnings as he does, and then, when quarter-day comes, can’t pay his rent, deserves to go to jail.” “But, sir, consider—” “Don’t talk to me, woman! If you have the money for the rent, I will take it, and let your husband go free; if not, the quicker you leave here the better.”