OR, CLARENCE MORTIMER. 49

 

the cold, dark night, not colder and darker -
than her husband’s: heart. And then the
brute reeled heavily to the poor bed, threw
himself upon it, and slept; and the sickly
. wife folded her hands and prayed.

‘¢ And the children saw it all, and their
hearts were crushed by the knowledge that
all this would happen again and again, and
they sank down upon the bare boards and
cried themselves to sleep.

‘©All this is a faithful picture of that
which happens in a drunkard’s home. Do

you like it, Hal? You may answer your
_ own question. Do you think it such a
dreadful thing to be a drunkard? ”

Hal shuddered, as he said —

““Oh, yes, Aunt Ellen, it isa dread ful
thing.”

‘‘And what do you say, my Clare?