Now, children, I shouldn’t a bit wonder if some of you remember a story about Ted’s Temperance Society written for the Children’s Page a year ago. If you have the Missionary for June, 1882, just read it again, then you will enjoy this story better. Ted, you remember, was a real live Atlanta boy, ten years old, who got his school-mates to come to his home to sign a pledge. Ted’s mother often helped him in making the children who came fully understand what a solemn thing they were doing. She read the pledge very slowly to each. Then she had them sign their names on a little card, and some other child must put down another name underneath as a witness. This was all there was to the Society, so simple and easy that any child could do it, no bands, badges, banners or prizes, yet they were so interested that they came in scores to enroll their names, and the best of all was, that many who signed seemed to catch Ted’s missionary zeal, and became centres of little circles which they drew into Ted’s home, to help swell the noble army marching against the cruel old despots, tobacco and whiskey. One little fellow, who had brought many before, came one day with an overgrown girl of fifteen, and finding several new boys in the house ready to take the pledge, he felt the dignity of the situation and tried to help Ted’s mother in her little sermon by shouting: “Now, boys, this is a good thing if you only mean to keep it, but it don’t do to put your name down here for a form or a fashion.” I recently met dashing little Susie Hall. I knew her as one of the head centres of those temperance circles. How her black eyes danced as she told me of her contempt for mince-pies, egg-nog, etc. Few Southern cooks know how to make mince-pies without brandy. I asked Susie who gave her the egg-nog she told me of refusing so bravely. “Oh, ma cooks for white folks and we lives in the yard, and on Christmas the white lady called me to scrape out the bowl, but I couldn’t touch it.”