"O, very likely," said Edward carelessly. "I have no doubt of it, but this he assured me was unadulterated. Have some, Mr. Hanford?" "I don't care if I do. It is really very fine," he said, returning the cup, "quite stimulating, but I prefer a little brandy to any other stimulant; it takes right hold." "You surely don't drink brandy!" exclamed the young wife, anxiously. "Only a little, occasionally, when I need it to keep the cold out. O never fear, my dear," he continued observing the look of concern upon his wife's countenance. "I'm a good temperance man, but not a teetotaler; that is drawing the reins rather too tight." Meantime, Edward had offered the driver a drink, but the man shook his head; "No, thank you," said he, "I'd rather not take any." "Not take any!" said Edward, "why, sir, it will do you good." "I'm not sick," said the other. "But you are cold," said Edward, mistaking his modest demeanor for bashfulness. But the earnest and decided shake of the head by which he refused the second invitation, signified more than words that he was an adherent of the total abstinence principles. "What a simpleton," said Edward to himself, as the individual by his side shiveringly gathered up the reins and drove on. But the individual's ruminations were of quite a different character, and something after this wise: "Shiver away, old man, it is better to shiver than to drink." Be it known that for many years this grey headed man had without measure, poured down the alcoholic fire. When at length overcome by it, a good Samaritan had discovered him lying sick by the wayside, and had humanely assisted him to rise, and had set him upon the beast commonly known as "Total Abstinence," upon which he had ridden with great comfort and safety up to the time of our story. Moreover being satisfied that the animal was of good parts and _sure-footed_, he was not at all inclined to exchange the faithful old creature for any of the best bloods belonging to the domestic wine family. He had not forgotten that apparently harmless little hobby-horse whose _cognomen_ was Lager Beer, which he had sported in his youth, but which at last got unruly; whether from having been stabled with vicious beasts, or from a bad quality which it inherently possessed, he was not in a condition to inquire the first time it played off its pranks upon him. But one thing was certain, after several months of docile behavior, one fine morning his pet landed him very unceremoniously in the gutter, after which, on various occasions, he mounted nearly all the beasts in the stable, whiskey, rum, brandy, etc., but they, one and all, proved vastly more refractory than the first named, and, as we have seen, he was at length left battered and bruised by the way side.