inroads made by drink upon the human frame. He sat, as Miss Vickers
remarked, like a wooden image, and was only moved to animation by a
picture of cirrhosis of the liver, which he described as being very
pretty.

At the end of a week Mr. Vickers's principles remained unshaken, and so
far Mr. Russell had made not the slightest progress in his designs upon
the affections of Selina. That lady, indeed, treated him with but scant
courtesy, and on two occasions had left him to visit Mr. Tasker; Mr.
Vickers's undisguised amusement at such times being hard to bear.

"Don't give up, Bill," he said, encouragingly, as Mr. Russell sat glum
and silent; "read over them beautiful 'Verses to a Tea-pot' agin, and try
and read them as if you 'adn't got your mouth full o' fish-bait. You're
wasting time."

"I don't want none o' your talk," said his disappointed friend. "If you
ain't careful I'll tell Selina about you going up to her papers."

The smile faded from Mr. Vickers's face. "Don't make mischief, Bill," he
said, uneasily.

"Well, don't you try and make fun o' me," said Mr. Russell, ferociously.
"Taking the pledge is 'ard enough to bear without having remarks from
you."

"I didn't mean them to be remarks, Bill," said the other, mildly. "But
if you tell about me, you know, Selina'll see through your little game."

"I'm about sick o' the whole thing," said Mr. Russell, desperately.