ill, when he raised his head and looked at me. I had never before seen him
look so haggard and pale. As his eyes rested on me, the tears started down
my cheeks.

"Carter, my child," he said hoarsely, "I have done you a great wrong. Can
you forgive me?"

In an instant my arms were about his neck--I felt no stiffness nor soreness
now. He folded me to his breast, and cried, as I did. After a long time he
spoke again:--

"If I had only known--your mother has just told me. It was the beer,
Carter, the beer. I will never touch the stuff again, never," he said
faintly. Then he stretched out his arms upon the table, and bowed his head
upon them. I stood awkwardly by, the tears streaming down my cheeks, but
they were tears of joy.

Mother, who was standing in the kitchen doorway with her apron to her eyes,
came and put her arm about him, and said something, very gently, which I
did not understand. Then she kissed me several times. I shall never forget
the happiness of that hour.

For a long time after that father would not go downtown in the evening
unless I could go with him. He lived to a good old age, and was for many
years head bookkeeper for Mr. Blodget. He kept his promise always.

Mother is still living, and still wears the ring.--_Alva H. Sawins, M.D.,
in the Union Signal_.

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