This was a new voice, just come up on the other side. He looked around; it was Nolan. "Nolan, my old friend--you were a friend to me; and I will try if Mr. Pease will agree to shut me up and keep me out of the way of these alligators. Look at them. Don't they lie about just like alligators in the mud and swamps, ready to snap up every poor dog that comes within reach of their tails or jaws?" Well, he took the pledge, and in due time we will see how he kept it. While I give my readers a little respite from the contemplation of such characters as have been introduced in the preceding chapters, I propose to introduce a little episode in the life of two of those which they have seen engaged in the noble work of reclaiming and sustaining a poor inebriate in his efforts to become a sober man. That they had reason to believe in the possibility of such reclamation, the reader will understand after reading the historical facts of the next chapter. CHAPTER V. THE TWO PENNY MARRIAGE. "And ye twain shall be one flesh." "What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder." No, not even rum; yet it often does. We have just read of one of the many thousand sad instances that have occurred in this world, of rum separating those who had taken upon them that holy ordinance which makes them as one flesh, one heart, one mind; and, unless such have one mind both to be drunk together, how can they live with one another? How can they live in rum's pollution in the holy bonds of matrimony? There is nothing holy about such a sinful life. Do away with the cause--abolish intoxicating liquor from society, and you will not only rivet those holy bonds with golden rivets, but you will shut up nine-tenths of the brothels and gaming houses in this city. Without rum they could not live over the first quarter's rent day. With it their profits are enormous--its effects awful. I could point you to a house in this city, with its twenty-five painted harlots, where the sales of wine in one year have been thirteen thousand bottles, costing $15,000, and selling for $39,000. And why not a profit, since men and women will get drunk in a palace, the mere repairs or additions to which, in one season, cost the almost incredible sum of $70,000? Who furnished the money? Who made the inmates what they are? Those who _made the wine_; not those who furnished the grape juice, for it is probable that the whole did not contain a thousand bottles full of that liquor. What caused the inmates to be what they are? Rum! Who made them harlots? Not those who marry, or are given in marriage. Marriage is one of the best preventives of licentiousness, but it is not often perhaps that it produces so positive a reformation as in the following cases. "I have married," said Mr. Pease to me one day, "some very curious couples. That of Elting was very remarkable."