"I know it is, still I cannot help it. And you would advise me to take a little good brandy?" "Yes, every day." "I am a Son of Temperance." "No matter; you can take it as medicine under my prescription. I know a dozen Sons of Temperance who have used brandy every day since the disease appeared in New York. It will be no violation of your contract. Life is of too much value to be put in jeopardy on a mere idea." "I agree with you there. I'd drink any thing if I thought it would give me an immunity against this dreadful disease." "You'll be safer with the brandy than without it." "Very well. If you think so, I will use it." On parting with the doctor, Mr. Hobart went to a liquor store and ordered half a gallon of brandy sent home. He did not feel altogether right in doing so, for it must be understood, that, in years gone by, Mr. Hobart had fallen into the evil habit of intemperance, which clung to him until he run through a handsome estate and beggared his family. In this low condition he was found by the Sons of Temperance, who induced him to abandon a course whose end was death and destruction, and to come into their Order. From that time all was changed. Sobriety and industry were returned to him in many of the good things of this world which he had lost, and he was still in the upward movement at the time when the fatal pestilence appeared. On going home at dinner time, Hobart's wife said to him, with a serious face-- "A demijohn, with some kind of liquor in it, was sent here to-day." "Oh, yes," he replied, it is brandy that Doctor L--ordered me to take as a cholera preventive." "Brandy!" ejaculated Mrs. Hobart, with an expression of painful surprise in her voice and on her countenance, that rather annoyed her husband. "Yes. He says that he takes it every day as a preventive, and directed me to do the same." "I wouldn't touch it if I were you. Indeed I wouldn't," said Mrs. Hobart, earnestly. "Why wouldn't you?" "You will violate your contract with the Sons of Temperance." "Not at all. Brandy may be used as a medicine under the prescription of a physician. I wouldn't have thought of touching it had not Doctor L--ordered me to do so." "You are not sick, Edward." "But there is death in the very air I breathe. At any moment I am liable to be struck down by an arrow sent from an unseen bow, unless a shield be interposed. Such a shield has been placed in my hands. Shall I not use it?" Mrs. Hobart knew her husband well enough to be satisfied that remonstrance and argument would be of no avail, now that his mind was m de up to use the brandy; and yet so distressed did she feel, that she couldn't help saying, with tears in her eyes-- "Eaward,(sic) let me beg of you not to touch it." "Would you rather see me in my coffin?" replied Mr. Hobart, with some bitterness. "Death may seem a light thing to you, but it is not so to me." "You are not sick," still urged the wife.