never take me away from you. He has promised that we shall all go abroad together, when you are stronger, to some beautiful sunny land, where you will be quite well again.'

A faint smile passed over his face, but there was no bitterness in it. He would not contradict her, and sadden her spirit at such a

moment.

Kiss me, my darling. God bless you!' were his parting words. A few steps across the churchyard, and Annie, led by her kind old friend, Dr. Kerrow, reached the church. Some of the villagers were waiting to see her pass, but she was too much absorbed in her own thoughts to notice them.

A strange clergyman from St. Elvyn was there, and the solemn service began at once, which was to join Robert Wilson and Annie Pendreath till death should them part.'

All was over, and the bride and bridegroom were passing out together through the porch, when Mally met them with a terror-stricken face.

'Come quick, Miss Annie!' she cried.

Pale as death, the girl flew in breathless haste to her uncle's study; she was in time-yes, in time to receive the last breath of him she loved so well; and in her arms the weary spirit passed away.

THE MITHERLESS BAIRN.

By Nobbut a chap as has to work for his brass."

BY the side of the door of a cottager's Oh, the love of a mother no one has a

dwelling,

A little boy stood on a bright sum

notion,

ARMER WALTERS stood with his arms on the top bar of the gate beside the stile that led through the Upland Meadows. His face rested on his arms, and the prospect before him on which he so intently gazed might well make him stop and gaze on it with delight that golden July evening.

Far below him in the valley lay embosomed in the trees the picturesque village of Lea, out of which rose its old ivy-wreathed church tower, while grouped round the tower were the low white parsonage-house, its walls rose-garlanded, and the cottages of the poor. Closer to the young farmer was his own snug farmhouse and his wide fields, fast growing ripe unto harvest.

Edward Walters was a man of about thirty; till within a year he had lived a careless life, anxious only to be regarded as a good neighbour, a kind master, and a social, generous fellow. Some years before he had, by the death of his father, come into possession of 'as pretty a little estate as you could find in a hundred miles,' and he was determined to enjoy it to the full. Hitherto he had continued his father's plans on the farm, and Lea being in a West-of-England cider county, he had turned the produce of his orchards into that beverage, for which he found a ready market or a ready use. He had been a good son to his widowed mother, and rarely caused her a moment's anxiety, save that a few times on his return from a fair or market he had stumbled into the parlour with an unsteady gait.

Once only had Edward Walters been actually drunk, and that was at his own harvest supper the previous autumn. Then, indeed, his pious old mother had been really alarmed; she had tenderly reasoned with him, and led him to reflect on the terrible course, of which she feared this might be the beginning. The young farmer loved his mother sincerely and promised amendment.

It was just at this time that the parishioners of Lea were invited by their vicar to hear a special sermon on tempérance from the bishop of the diocese. Edward Walters, on learning that his mother and sister wished to attend, accompanied them. The earnest words he listened to in the little church that evening proved the incentive to a purer and nobler life, and he longed henceforth to dedicate himself to the active service of God. It was no wonder that as a means to an end he shortly after this, on the formation of a Church of England Temperance Society in Lea, determined to sign the total abstinence pledge, and prove the sincerity of his new emotions by an act of selfdenial. He was surprised very soon to find that he had done himself as much good as those whom he had intended to benefit, and that with a clearer brain and an improved physical condition he had a far greater enjoyment of life than before.

For some months, however, he carried his abstinence principles no farther than his own personal habits; he was even inclined to dissuade his mother from her determination also to forego the use of all intoxicating beverages. But when many weeks had passed, and neither of them suffered in the least, he began to reason as to whether he was not putting a stumbling-block and an occasion to fall' in his brother's way by so freely giving cider to his men, and by selling the drink from his presses. It would be a great sacrifice of money to

give up the sale of cider, bat Edward Walters was not a man to consider this as worthy to be laid in the balance against conscientious scruples. But was he justified in withholding from his men what they had so long been accustomed to in the laborious harvest season, now so soon approaching? He had given them cider as usual through the hay harvest, which was just completed, yet he had had many painful misgivings as to the course he had adopted, and these had been strengthened by the following circumstance:

Amongst his labourers-men who had worked on the farm in his father's time-was an old and valued servant, Jem Parker. He had a son also called Jem. This latter, now a man of middle age, was the father of a third James, a lad of about fifteen. On these three were universally bestowed in the village the distinctive appellations of Old Jem, Young Jem, and Little Jem. All were employed by Edward Walters. Old Jem was a remarkably sober man, and hardly ever drank anything but water. Young Jem, though a man who well understood his work, was a sad tippler, and noisy and quarrelsome in his cups. Little Jem was a promising lad, extremely fond of his good grandfather, and influenced by him to sober habits. Whilst the hay was being carried in one field, Young Jem was drunk, but insisted that his boy should fetch him more cider. The old man, who was carting the hay, and the lad, who was receiving it on the waggon, both ventured to expostulate, when, without more provocation, Young Jem threw his fork at his son, wounding him severely in the leg. The poor boy was still confined to his bed, and Edward Walters resolved, when he was called to the scene of the accident, that he would never open another cask of drink for his men.

But as the golden glory of the declining sun is mellowing into still richer beauty the yellowing corn and the pale brown of the bare hay-fields, he is pondering intently the way in which he can best provide for their needs and do justly to himself and them. What shall be the substitute of the cider? Will money instead satisfy them? Will there be a revolt in the harvest-field? Will he be deemed a hard, cruel master, instead of a generous one?

This last question is by no means without its weight in the mind of Edward Walters. A hand tapped him lightly on the shoulder, and a pleasant voice inquired,

In a brown study, Mr. Walters? I must beg your pardon for interrupting you.'

Turning quickly, the farmer confronted Mr. Somers, his clergyman. I am in a puzzle, and I'm glad you've come to give me some advice,' said the young man. You know, Mr. Somers, what happened on my hay-field; you know, also, that I am an abstainer; you will not wonder much if I tell you that my brown study refers to my men, and the approaching harvest, and the cider-parrel. Did you ever hear of anyone getting through his harvest teetotally ?'

Mr. Somers smiled. Don't look so solemn, Mr. Walters, for indeed I have, and that with as much success as with strong drink, and with infinitely less trouble among the men. I have a whole packet of papers from old friends of mine, one a farmer in Gloucestershire, who has been a teetotaler these ten years; and now they hear I am interested in our society, they think that their facts may be

of use to me for some of my parishioners. I can give you the gist of them in a few words. One says, "The men are quite as well pleased to have good cocoa provided for them as with the intoxicating beverages they used to receive. He has gathered in from 120 to 130 acres of corn for ten years without giving intoxicants. Another writes that great satisfaction is experienced by the men who have received a sum of money at the end of harvest, as well as being provided with cold tea and coffee during its continuance. The work is done with almost no interruption, and delightfully free from the quarrels and disturbances which are sure to arise between men who have indulged freely in drink for many hours under a burning sun.'

'And what substitutes are proved to be the best?' asked the young farmer. My mother is most willing to make anything for the men.

'My friends have tried several,' replied the clergyman. 'One of the best is oatmeal mixed with water, so as to be thin enough to drink readily; another is Scotch barley boiled till soft in the proportion of two ounces to one gallon of water, and sweetened with treacle, sugar, or liquorice. Both these the men declare to be superior to everything else they have tried, for it sustains them like meat and drink. Cold tea and cold coffee well sweetened are also excellent substitutes for cider, and here is a receipt for a good harvest drink:-"To six gallons of cold water put 2 oz. of tartaric acid, and sweeten it to taste with about 23 lbs. of moist sugar; add the rind of one or two lemons it is improved by standing a short time, but may be used at once. The more acid and sugar used the better it is ; for twopence a quart it may be made excellent." Water itself is also by no means to be dreaded, its effects upon the system are infinitely preferable to those of cider.'

:

As Mr. Somers spoke, old Jem arrived at the stile; he was a cheery, ruddy old man, with snowy hair, and a pair of bright, intelli gent blue eyes.

6

Jim,' said Mr. Somers, we are discussing a very important question for you labouring men.'

'Aye, sir; be 'ee, sir?' said the old man.

Your good master wants to have a quiet, sober harvest-field.' 'Aye, sir,' said the old man, shaking his head, and looking sad, 'there'll never be peace while there's room found for the cider-barrel.' And so saying he would have continued his walk, but this time his master stopped him.

'Jem, don't go I want to talk with you. men to drink instead of cider ?'

'Do 'ee mean it, sir?' said the old man. I've seen.'

'What do you mean, Jem?'

What can I give you

'It'll be the best day

"The drink's a curse, sir, and none know it better than the poor; and ef you put it away out of your harvest-field, and out of your harvest-home, too, sir-ef I may make so bold-you'll do a good thing for Lea, sir, and for them as lives there.'

'I think it is very likely,' said Edward Walters; 'but here is the point, Jem, what must I give my men instead of the cider?'

The old man shrugged his shoulders. I never took nothing but water, and I've had my health, haven't I, maister? I've never laid

a-bed a day's sickness since years before my son Jem was born. Bless 'ee, sir,' he added, chuckling, they'll drink the water in the cider, and say nort about it, but to gulp down nothing but water— oh, don't they make faces at it!'

'Exactly, said his master; and I must find something to give them at which they won't make faces.'

Well, sir, there be good honest tay and coffee, with a heap of sugar in to sweeten un. Well, they'll not grumble at that after the first day; ef so be,' and here he chuckled again, 'you do mean that there shall be a little extray balance of cash to come.'

'Of course there shall be, Jem; I shall reckon upon you to make my wishes and intentions known. Now, good night, old friend.'

Good night, sirs; this is a bit of news to cheer an old body up like. The Lord bless 'ee both for thinking upon it.' With which hearty benediction the old man touched his hat and passed over the stile.

Man is not unreasonable if you go the right way to work with him. Edward Walters assembled the men whom he constantly employed, before the extra labourers hired for harvest-time arrived, and stated the whole case to them from the beginning. Very lightly for old Jem's sake, and for young Jem's, whom he hoped to win to better ways, he alluded to the recent sad occurrence in the hay-field, and told of his own conviction that it was not the will of God that he should tempt his fellows to the use of that which sometimes led to such bitter results. He asked his men to help him work out the experiment of reaping the year's corn harvest without a drop of intoxicating liquor; he put them on their honour not to introduce anything of the kind into the field; he told them he purposed to give them all a sum of money if they adhered fairly to this bargain; and he also acquainted them with the nature of the beverages he proposed to give them as substitutes for the dangerous drinks. He pointed out the advantages that would follow a sober harvest to the families of the labourers; and to his great surprise, at the end of his short speech, a hearty cheer broke from his men.

He had more trouble with the strangers, some of whom grumbled, and two or three altogether refused to come, thereby putting him to a little inconvenience. But the rest worked on, and the mowing, the reaping, and the gathering into barns, were steadily accomplished. There had been scarcely any quarrelling, and the two or three slight disputes that arose had been quickly settled.-After several days' trial, the syrups were pronounced most palatable; the lemonade most refreshing; but the sweet tea, the oatmeal and water, and the Scotchbarley drink, the most satisfying and sustaining.

It was late in August, and the glorious harvest-moon was at its full, when the largest barn of the Upland Farm was gaily decorated for the harvest-home with wheat and barley sheaves, and dancing oats, intermingled with the scarlet berries of the mountain-ash and the brilliant flowers of the scarlet geranium. Around the long tables, which were loaded with good things, and from which only one customary article-strong drink-was absent, were ranged the bright and happy faces of the labourers and their wives and children.

Edward Walters sat as president at the head of one table; Mr. Somers, who acted as vice-president, at the head of another; the