Sure enough; what could he do more? He took them and prayed over them, that in parting with the last penny, this couple might have parted with a vice--a wicked, foolish practice, which had reduced them to such a degree of poverty and wretchedness, that the monster power of rum could hardly send its victims lower. So, by a few words, I hope, words of power to do good, Thomas and Matilda, long known as, drunken Tom and Mag, were transformed into Mr. and Mrs. Elting, and having grown somewhat more sober while in the house, seemed to fully understand their new position, and all the obligations they had taken upon themselves. "For a few days," said Mr. P., "I thought occasionally of this two-penny marriage, and then it became absorbed with a thousand other scenes of wretchedness which I have witnessed since I have lived in this centre of city misery. Time wore on, and I married many other couples; often those who came in their carriage and left a golden marriage fee--a delicate way of giving to the needy--but among all, I had never performed the rite for a couple quite so low as that of this two-penny fee, and I resolved I never would again. At length, however, I had a call from a full match to them, which I refused." "Why do you come to me to be married, my friend?" said I to the man. "You are both too poor to live separate; and, besides, you are both terrible drunkards, I know you are." "That is just what we want to get married for, and take the pledge." "Take that first." "No; we must take all together--nothing else will save us." "Will that?" "It did one of my friends." "Well, then, go and bring that friend here; let me see and hear how much it saved him, and then I will make up my mind what to do. If I can do you any good, I want to do it." "My friend is at work--he has got a good job and several hands working for him, and is making money, and won't quit till night. Shall I come this evening?" "Yes, I will stay at home and wait for you."