Year: 1879

the carpenter, hardly noticing what was
said to him.


Just what you told me yesterday, .
said the man, roughly. THE fact is,
Jim Barclay the man added, there's
no dependence in you any longer, and j
shall take my work somewhere else"
| lie was in no mood to bear patiently
hard speech from any one; so he re-
piled as roughly, and the customer rode
off i'll anger. Barclay stood looking af-
ter him, his excitement gradually cool
ing until the blindness of passion was
gone.


Foolish every wayw he muttered,
turning slowly to his work bench and
taking his plane. at wasn't so once. No
dependence in Jim Barclay"


He was hurt by the accusation. The
time Was when no mechanic in the
neighbOrhoOd could be more depended
upon. If Barclay promised a piece of
work, it was sure to be ready Alas
how changed! He was just as fair in
promise nOw-juSt as sincere perhaps
when his word was given-but in per-
fOrmance how slow! He would start in
earnest every day, and got on very well
until the desire for liquor grew strong
enough to tempt him off to Huber's tav-
ern for drink. After that no one
could count on him.


Some panels of the unfinished shutter
lay on Barclays bench. He began to
grow warried Just as it had been with
him many times. But where to begin
his days work, which of lis customers
to serve firSt-he did not know. His
hands were unsteady; sense of heavi
ness weighed down his limbs; in body
and mind he felt wretched. He thought Of
Huber'S tavern and a refreshing glass
Just one glass, and his shattered nerve:
would be steadier for the days work
Then he thought of the pennies in hi:
pocket, the treasure of his dear little
Fanny, stolen from her that morning
and such shame fell upon his heart thai
he sat down on his workbench anG
grOaned in pain.


I'll get one glass;" he said, starting
up, ''fOr | must have something to put
life into me. The pennies are only Dor
rOwed, and I'll return them two for one
Just one glass to make me all right,
and off he started for the tavern.


Between the shop and the tavern wa:
a pleasant cottage Mr.. Barclay wa.
nearly opposite this cottage, when Out
ran a child, holding in her little hands {
small glass pitcher of water, her COLDER
hair tossing in the wind. She was about
Fannys age, and beautiful as a cherHb.


won't you have Il cool drink, Mr.
Barclay?" said the child, stopping be
fore him and offering her pitcher, while
her earnest, tender eyes, blue as violets
were lifted to his face.


Surprised and startled by this suddeI
vision of innocence and beauty, Mr.. Bar
clay did not hesitate for an instant, bu
took the pitcher and drank almost at {
single draught every drop of the pure
cold water.


"Thank you, my DEAR" dropped from
his lips as he handed back the empt!
vessel. and then he stopped and kissed
the child. She did not turn from hin
and go back into the house, but stood
between him and the little tavern, gazing
up into his face. He took a step for
ward. The child caught his hand. "Ol
don't, Mr.. Barclay~ she cried eagerly
and in such pleading voice that hel
tones went further down into his heart
than human tones had gone for long
| time


Don't what, little darlingb" he asked
| bending toward her in new surprise.


Don't go to Huber's any more" an
swered the child.


Mr.. Barclay drew himself up and stood
as still us statue. The child looked al
him with half-scaTed expression, but
she kept firmly hold of his hand. Sud
denly catching his breath he stopped
| oh -lxr nd ha al. flI1
| forehead with his lips. He said not d
word, turned resOlutely and went stri.
ding down the road in the direction OF
his shop.


From the window of the cottage
mother and aunt looked on the scene in
surprise. The act was her own. They
had no hint of her purpose until they
saw her cross the road with the pitcher
of water in her hand. Her own act did
say? Let me lift your thoughts high
er. Gods love and pity for the pOOI
drunkard had flowed into the child's
| heart and moved her to do just what she
did. So it was God acting through heI
| just rs He acts through every one of us
when we try to do good to others. Think
of this. God working mercy through us
making us angels of mercy.


Mr.. Barclay returned to the shOp,tOOk
off his coat and went to work. The
cool water, but more the good resOlu-
tion the child had awakened in his heart,
gave tone and refreshment to body and
mind. His nerves, all unStrung when
he started to the tavern, were steady
now. No tremOr ran through his hand
as he grasped the mallet, chirel or plane.
10 oil n MI fGlf
a long time.


After an hour this feeling began to
wear off, and the old heavineSS and
thirst for liquor returned. His thoughts
went to Huber's tavern and the tempt
ing liquor there. But there was some
thing in the way that he could not pass
not fierce lions, but pure and innocent
child He felt sure that when she saw
him coming along the road she would
meet him with her sweet pleading face
and pitcher of water, and to pass by
would be impossible. Go around by
the old mill" said the tempter, "and the
child will not see you"


He hearkened a moment, then, with
an almost angry tone, he said:


mo, no, no! GOd'ssangel met me in an
evil path and turned me back. l will
not go around by any other way"


There was a spring not far from his
shop. He drank freely at this, and then
refreshed, took up his work again. How
clear his mind was-clearer than it had
been for long time Like beautiful
picture was the image Of that beautiful
child meeting him in the road and offer
ing her pitcher of water. 1t was always
before him, and the longer he looked
upon it the softer his heart became, and
the stronger his good resolutions.
For the first time in months Mr.. Bar
clay came home that evening sober and
in his right mind. What throbs of joy
his pulse give as he saw the look of hap
py surprise in his poor wife's face, and
felt the delight of dear little Fanny's
heart as she sprang into his arms and
hugged him in way that told what a
new gladness was in her soul. Not un-
til he had returned the pennies to her