There I was, mother and father to him, and I couldn't say four words of that prayer to save my life! He waited and waited for me to begin, as his mother always had; and the big children were waiting; and when I took him in my lap and kissed him, I called heaven to witness that my life should change from that hour. So it did, and I have been trying hard to lead a sober, honest life. God helping me, no one shall call me “Whisky Bill" again.

Every night little Ned climbs up into my lap and says, “Goodnight, pa-good-night everybody in the world-good-night ma up in heaven”-and I believe she knows and will stand by methere—just as she always did here, and I know I'll hold out to the end.

Drink-for see our wives stand weeping,

And our infants cry for bread:
In the grave they'll soon be sleeping;

Soon be numbered with the dead,

Drink-for hoary sires entreat us

To resign the fatal cup:
Drink-nor heed a mother's anguish:

Drink and drink damnation up!

Drink-for see the gallows becks us,

And the prison opens wide;
And shame stands with arms extended,

To destroy our hopes and pride.

Drink-for while we quaff destruction,

Others feel the poison too;
Yes, the darts that wound our bosoms,

Also pierce our loved ones through.

Oh, what pleasures greet the drunkard !

What blissful scenes to him extend !
Therefore drink, nor be so fearful !

Drink-nor heed the drunkard's end!

DON'T GO IN.

MRS. KIDDER.

IT ,

T is lighted, we know, like a palace,

That fair, gilded temple of sin; It has signs on the walls ; let us read them:

“The best of wine, brandy, and gin.' (As if human stomachs could need them!)

My son, oh, my son, don't go in.

Though it giveth its beautiful color,

Though it gleams in the cup like a rose, Though it seeks like a serpent to charm you,

And glitters and glimmers and glows,

Like the bright, wily serpent 'twill harm you

And rob you of earthly repose.

It will tarnish your glorious manhood

And sow the vile seeds of disgrace.
Then, why deal with this terrible danger?

Why enter this crime-haunted place?
Much better to pass it a stranger

Than God's whole image deface.

Much better to gird on the armor

To fight life's great battle and win,
Than to lay down your all on the altar

That burns in this temple of sin.
So, strike for the right and not falter-

My son, oh, my son, don't go in.

THE GIN FIEND.

CHARLES MACKAY.

THE

HE Gin Fiend cast his

eyes abroad And looked o'er all the land; And numbered his myriad worshipers

With his bird-like, long right hand.
He took his place in the teeming street

And watched the people go,
Around and about, with a buzz and a shout,

Forever to and fro. "And it's hip!” said the Gin Fiend, "hip, hurrah!

For the multitude I see
Who offer themselves in sacrifice

And die for the love of me."

There watched a woman by the hearth

With sullen face and thin;
She uttered words of scorn and hate

To one that staggered in.
Long had she watched, and when he came

His thoughts were bent on blood;
He could not brook her taunting look,

And he slew her where she stood. "And it's hip!" said the Gin Fiend, "hip, hurrah!

My right good friend is he;
He hath slain his wife, he hath given his life,

And all for the love of me.”

And every day in the crowded way

He takes his fearful stand,
And numbers his myriad worshipers

With his bird-like, long right hand;
And every day the weak and strong,

Widows and maids and wives,
Blood warm, blood cold, young men and old,

Offer the Fiend their lives.
“And it's hip!” he says, "hip, hip, hurrah!

For the multitudes I see
That sell their souls for the burning drink,

And die for the love of me!"