The Press., 1892-07-21
Number 16.
w. C. T. U. DEPARTMENT.
When Jesse's Fishing Boat Came II
BY-REv. EDWARD A. RAND.

one hOarse, endless complaint, but more distinct tonight. "I wonder when the | boats will be in !" she murmured. Alice Souther turned away and slowly walked up hard-beaten path to the sum- init of the ridge bordering the shore. Then the path dipped into hollow, in which nestled two houses and few out buildings, where the fishermen generally stored their fish. At the point of the crest of the path could be seen the full length of the lighthouse tower, only two hundred feet away. In one of the two houses in the hollow lived Cap'n Ben Nickerson, the keeper of the light; in the other lived Granny Souther and her two grandchildren, Alice and Jesse, "a broad shouldered, muscular young fisherman. It looked so peaceful and sheltered down in the hollow, and the lighthouse tower was such a sign of hope and peace, of shelter and safety, that Alike liked to halt just here at the creft of the path and look off-first down, then up.
 'It won't do to stop long," she mur- mured; ''I must tell granny the boats are not in."
 Granny was in the kitchen with the wide-open fireplace and it's old-fashioned crane. She was just kindling a fire of driftwood, when Alice said:
 ''Jesse's boat is not in, granny; so you need not hurry about supper"
 "You seen Joslyn, Alice?"
 "Not sign of him, granny"
 "Oh, hope he won't come!"
 "So do I!"
 "If Jesse could only get over that hab- it"
 The habit was the accursed one of drink Joslyn was rum-peddler, who would so time his visits to the seashore, that he would meet the boats returning from a three days run off to the fishing grounds
 He had hired disused fish-house, and there he would wait with the poison-wares
 for the men of the sea.
 "What do you suppose we can do, gran ny?" wondered Alice.
 The old woman shook her head. Wip- ing her eyes, she said:
 "It is a sad sight to see one going that
 way. What would his poor dead father
 and mother say?"
 Here granny flung her apron over her
 face and tried to hide the tears so freely flowing from their fountain.
 o-much-trouble," ," sob bed the weary old heart. ) Then Alice cried, and the old mother } stayed her own tears that she might dry those of Alice.
 "Now, dearie, don't! Now don't Alicen "But-but what can we do ?" "Only do our duty now," said the old
 lady, with strong effort at self-control ''and bide Gods time to do the next thing. Now, dearie, that means I had better do some mending on Jesse's jacket
 and perhaps you had better see if his room is all right" It was relief to take up with the doing of some practical duty. Alice went promptly to Jesse's room, trying to gel comfort out of the old lady's counsel "Only do our duty now, and bide Gods time to do the next thing" 'I suppose that means" said Alice wiping her eyes, ''that we must every mo ment do our best, hoping God will bring things out right" But as she halted at an easterly window
 of Jesse's room, what did she see ?-tht blackish little mast of a fishing boat in { nook of the shore. "That is Jessie's boat!" she cried. She saw, too, the door of an old fish house thrown open. "Oh, dear! Joslyn has comet" was hel pitiful exclamation. Another moment she was hurryins downstairs.
 "Oh, granny, Jesse's boat is in ant Joslyn has come! I am going to stoI Jesse!" said Alice, seizing her hood ant rushing out of doors. How she might stop Jesse's drinking she could not possibly say. To make thu attempt, though, seemed the next thing thing to be done. As she turned in leav ing the room, she saw granny falling Ol 3 her knees.
 "I know what that means" murmure, Alice; "she will be praying there. Sh always can be seen praying when Jesse boat gets in. Oh, dear" She hurried along the path leading pas the fish-house, and then winding down t the cove where Jesse's boat had beel = moored.
 ''If he hasn't gone up to Joslyn's!" sh murmured. "Pll stop him from getting there if can." He had not gone there. Joslyn stoo' : in his door wondering where his custom CT, the young fisherman, might be. "Tll toll him up," he said. He calle, out in his coarse, harsh voice: "Here sis! Something in this pail for you brother. Tell him he shall have the res when he comes for it.' "What is it ?" she asked. "Oh, he knows!" replied Joslyn. She caught whiff from the contents o the pail.
 "No, sir T" she said, decidedly.
 "Here, here! ,Tush! Take this," h said, handing her dime. "Now go righ along"
 ''No, sir!" said mild, but very em phatic voice.
 "You won't ?" angrily called out Joslyn "No-sir! I'll have nothing to do wit
 what makes my brother drunkard an breaks his grandmother's heart. No } sir!'
 t 'sTake that!" he replied. He would have struck the girl, bu somebody rushed up, threw himself bt , fore her, and the rumseller stepped back
 "Oh, Jay-see!" he simpered, in hi
 softest, snakiest tones. "No harm meant