married one of the sweetest girls in our town--Fanny Ellis, that
was her name, and she could have had her pick of the young men.
Everybody affected to wonder at her choice; and yet nobody really
did wonder, for Joe was an attractive young man, take him as you
would, and just the one to win the heart of a girl like Fanny.
What if he had been seen, now and then, a little the worse for
drink! What if he showed more fondness for pleasure than for
business! Fanny did not look into the future with doubt or fear.
She believed that her love was strong enough to win him from all
evil allurements: and, as for this world's goods, they were
matters in which her maiden fancies rarely busied themselves.

"Well. Dark days came for her, poor soul! And yet, in all the
darkness of her earthly lot, she has never, it is said, been
anything but a loving, forbearing, self-denying wife to Morgan.
And he--fallen as he is, and powerless in the grasp of the monster
intemperance--has never, I am sure, hurt her with a cruel word.
Had he added these, her heart would, long ere this, have broken.
Poor Joe Morgan! Poor Fanny! Oh, what a curse is this drink!"

The man, warming with his theme, had spoken with an eloquence I
had not expected from his lips. Slightly overmastered by his
feelings, he paused for a moment or two, and then added:

"It was unfortunate for Joe, at least, that Slade sold his mill,
and became a tavern-keeper; for Joe had a sure berth, and wages
regularly paid. He didn't always stick to his work, but would go
off on a spree every now and then; but Slade bore with all this,
and worked harder himself to make up for his hand's shortcoming.
And no matter what deficiency the little store-room at home might