John Ward, Preacher

eborah never knew that her bags of lavender were not even taken out of the trunk, and that the hard-featured Irishwoman who "came in

fford soon felt that his real "home" in Lockhaven was at the parsonage, though he

nd wondered at it, and she felt his reserve, too, in speaking of her cousin; she even asked herself if he could have cared for Lois? But the thoug

forted in a vague way by the sympathetic look which was always on Helen's face when she spoke to any one who seemed troubled. So he wa

r the river and the mills; and one night, as they stood on the shaking bridge, and looked down at the br

remember him in Ashurst, though I recall Mrs. Forsythe perfectly: a tall, sick-lookin

"As for her son, I don't know anything about him. I believe we were not very go

en, laughing. "From the letters I've had,

ple who make you feel that though they may have good

s that make," John asked

rence," Gifford replied

Helen said. "How can he stay there all summer?

he is

him!" said Helen, s

im to have an opinion one way or the other. Judging from aunt Ruth's letters, though, I shoul

eyes, but they had reached his house, and John be

d. "There is a great deal of quarreling among the mill

eless for the life it indicates, when you say there's much to be done. The struggle for personal rights and advantages is really, you know, the

d sadly. "Ah, but

opment; to live up to the best one knows is morality, and the preservation of self

n said gently. "Morality neve

oesn't understand your awful Presbyterian doctr

e was a heathen. "But I think," he said, "the t

answered, eagerly. "If

l remedy," said Gifford, his face

n will help us. I would have it impossib

case of sickness?" G

n't have

er extreme? You know it's life or death sometimes: a stimulant

o one knows his weakness until temptation comes." His tone was so full of trouble, Gifford, feeling the sudden tenderness o

ught of the dinner-table a

ced it," John said si

ough to make you sign th

into his office, and, lighting his lamp, sat down to look over some papers. "How is that going to come out?" he said to himself. "Neither of those people will amend an opinion, and Ward is

uture, and his views of high license were forgotten, as well as the sudden pain

o often," John said, "but how goo

by heart: what he thought when he first saw her, how she wondered if he would speak to her. "And oh, Helen," he said, "I reco

hem down the deserted street, with a

ldish voice eagerly, "g

who it was, for a tangle of yell

easant voice. "Where have you been, my

ad gone only a few steps when there was a wail. Turning her head to watch him out of sight, Molly had tripped, and now all that wa

id, sobbing, and sinking down i

o comfort her. "Never mind; we'll

h, as she tried to speak, "'t won't do no good. He'll beat me. He

r a moment. "I will take you home, Hel

red quickly, "let

and then Molly and I will tell dad about the beer." He lifted the child gently in his arms, and stooped again for the pitcher. "Come, Helen," he said, and they went towards the parso

up had given them an unsteady look, and they leaned and stumbled so that the stained plastering had broken on the walls, and there were large cracks by the window frames. The broken steps of Molly's home led up to a pa

eyes long enough to say,

went into the small entry, and knocke

woman's voi

nd she was trying by its feeble light to do some mending. Her face had that indifferenc

ul lips; and she rose, brushing some lifeless strands of hair behind her e

d gently down, and steadying her on her uncertain little feet, until her

g about it. He'll have forgot he sent her by mornin'." She jerked her head towards one side of the room, where her husband was lying upon the floor. "Go get the preach

mouth could be seen. His muscular hands were relaxed, and the whole prostrate figure was pathetic in its unconsciousness of will and grotesque unhumanness. Fate had been too strong for Tom Davi

and looked at the drunken man. A stern look crept over

pened since Tom came and told me he would try to keep

d it's awful hard on me, so it is; that's where all our money goes. I can't get shoes for the children's feet, let alon

is immortal soul. Oh, Mrs. Davis, do you point o

fter one o' them sermons of yours, I've known him swear off as long as two months. I ain't been to church this long time, till last Sabbath; and I was hopin' I'd hear one o

id not, but the love of God must constrain

ary interest, was forgotten in the thought of her own misery. "Well, it

l than to think of such a thing for one we love. Let us try to save him; pray always, pray without ceasing for his immortal soul, that he may not slight the day of salvation,

n beside him, took one of the helpless hands in hi

him; but when he rose and said good-night, she could see his sad eyes full

s he stood a moment in the doorway, and,

her," she said, "'

ul to his own children. He would give them time, He would not withdraw the day of grace; surely Tom Davis's soul would yet be saved. There was a subtle thought below this of hope that for Helen, too, the day of grace might be prolonge

yellow head. "Be a good girl, my little Molly;" then, wi

tain punishment of the wicked when I visit my people," he said, "but not in the pulpit. Not where Helen would hear it-yet. In her frame of mind, treating the whole question somewhat lightly, not realizing its awful importance, it would be productive of no good. I will try, little by little, to show h