“What good does it do ye, Andrew? and what want have you of it?” inquired James Lacey. “What good does it do me!” repeated Andrew, rubbing his forehead in a manner that showed he was perplexed by the question; “why, no great good, to be sure; and I can’t say I’ve any want of it; for since I became a member of the ‘Total Abstinence Society,’ I’ve lost the megrim in my head and the weakness I used to have about my heart. I’m as strong and hearty in myself as any one can be, God be praised! And sure, James, neither of us could turn out in such a coat as _this_, this time twelvemonth.” “And that’s true,” replied James; “but we must remember that if leaving off whisky enables us to show a good habit, taking to ‘ginger cordial,’ or any thing of that kind, will soon wear a hole in it.” “You are always fond of your fun.” replied Andrew. “How can you prove that?” “Easy enough,” said James. “Intoxication was the worst part of a whisky-drinking habit; but it was not the only bad part. It spent TIME, and it spent what well-managed time always gives, MONEY. Now, though they do say--mind, I’m not quite _sure_ about it, for they _may_ put things in it they don’t own to, and your eyes look brighter, and your cheek more flushed than if you had been drinking nothing stronger than milk or water--but they _do_ say that ginger cordials, and all kinds of cordials, do not intoxicate. I will grant this; but you cannot deny that they waste both time and money.” “Oh, bother!” exclaimed Andrew. “I only went with two or three other boys to have a glass, and I don’t think we spent more than half an hour--_not_ three quarters, certainly; and there’s no great harm in laying out a penny or twopence that way, now and again.” “_Half_ an hour even, breaks a day,” said James, “and what is worse, it unsettles the mind for work; and we ought to be very careful of any return to the _old habit_, that has destroyed many of us, body and soul, and made the name of an Irishman a by-word and a reproach, instead of a glory and an honour. A penny, Andrew, _breaks the silver shilling into coppers_; and twopence will buy half a stone of potatoes--that’s a consideration. If we don’t manage to keep things comfortable at home, the women won’t have the heart to mend the coat. Not,” added James with a sly smile, “that I can deny having taken to TEMPERANCE CORDIALS myself.” “You!” shouted Andrew, “_you_, and a pretty fellow you are to be blaming me, and then forced to confess you have taken to them yourself. But I suppose they’ll wear no hole in _your_ coat? Oh, to be sure not, _you_ are such a good manager!”