"No, no, papa; not so much as that. It's a little bit of my own way that
I want."

"Of course; well, what is it?"

"Well, I want you to take John back again."

Her father's face grew hard.

"Now, please, papa, don't say a word till you have heard me. John was a
capital gardener; he kept the green-house looking beautiful; and this
Mike that we've got now, he's nothing but an apprentice, and stupid as an
owl at that! He'll never do in the world."

"All that is very true," said Mr. De Witt, "but _John drinks_, and I
_won't_ have a drinking man."

"But, papa, _I_ mean to take care of that. I've written out the
temperance pledge, and dated it, and got John to sign it, and _here it
is_," and she handed the paper to her father, who read it carefully, and
sat turning it in his hands while his daughter went on:

"You ought to have seen how poor, how very poor they were. His wife is
such a nice, quiet, hardworking woman, and has two such pretty children.
I went to see them and carry them Christmas things yesterday, but it's no
good doing anything if John can't get work. She told me how the poor
fellow had been walking the streets in the cold, day after day, trying
everywhere, and nobody would take him. It's a dreadful time now for a man
to be out of work, and it isn't fair his poor wife and children should
suffer. Do try him again, papa!"