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“Well, this James Bradly was a house-carpenter–I say was–for although still living, he is no longer an industrious house-carpenter, but a very industrious grog-drinker,–he has changed his occupation. About five years ago, I went to his house on some business. It was about dinner-time, and the table was set, and the dinner on it.

“‘Come, take some dinner with me,’ Mr. Bradly said, in such a kind earnest way, that I could not resist, especially as his wife looked so happy and smiling, and the dinner so neatly served, plentiful and inviting. So I sat down with Mr. and Mrs. Bradly, and two fat, chubby-faced children; and I do not think I ever enjoyed so pleasant a meal in my life.

“After dinner was over, Mr. Bradly took me all through his house, which was new. He had just built it, and furnished it with every convenience that a man in mode. rate circumstances could desire. I was pleased with everything I saw, and praised everything with a hearty good will. At last he took me down into the cellar, and showed me a barrel of flour that he had just bought–twenty bushels of potatoes and turnips laid in for the winter, five large fat hogs, and I can’t remember what all. Beside these, there was a barrel of something lying upon the cellar floor.

“‘What is this?’ I asked.

“‘O, that is a barrel of whiskey that I have laid in also.’

“‘A barrel of whiskey!’ I said, in surprise.

“‘Yes. I did some work for Harry Arnold, and the best I could do was to take this barrel of good old ‘rye’ in payment. But it is just as well. It will be a saving in the end.’

“‘How so?’ I asked.

“‘Why, because there are more than twice as many drams in this barrel of whiskey, as I could get for what I paid for it. Of course, I save more than half.’

“‘But have you taken into your calculation the fact, that, in consequence of having a barrel of whiskey so handy, you will drink about two glasses to one that you would want if you had to go down to Harry Arnold’s for it every time!’

“‘O yes, I have,’ Bradly replied. ‘But still I calculate on it being a saving, from the fact that I shall not lose so much time as I otherwise would do. A great deal of time, you know, is wasted in these dram-shops.’

“‘All true. But have you never considered the danger arising from the habitual free use of liquor–such a free use as the constant sight of a whole barrel of whiskey may induce you to make?’

“‘Danger!’ ejaculated Mr. Bradly in surprise.

“‘Yes, danger,’ I repeated.

“‘Of what?’ he asked.

“‘Of becoming too fond of liquor,’ I replied.

“‘I hope you do not wish to insult me in my own house, Mr. Malcom,’ the carpenter said, rather sternly.

“‘O no,’ I replied. ‘Of course I do not. I only took the liberty that a friend feels entitled to use, to hint at what seemed to me a danger that you might be running into blindly.’

“Mrs. Bradly, who had gone through the house with us, enjoying my admiration of all their comfortable arrangements, seemed to dwell with particular interest on what I said in reference to the whiskey-barrel. She was now leaning affectionately upon her husband’s arm–her own drawn through his, and her hands clasped together–looking up into his face with a tender and confiding regard. I could not help noticing her manner, and the expression of her countenance. And yet it seemed to me that something of concern was on her face, but so indistinct as to be scarcely visible. Of this I was satisfied, when she said,

“‘I don’t think there is much use in drinking liquor, do you, Mr. Malcom?’

“‘I cannot see that there is,’ I replied, of course.

“‘Nor can I. Of one thing I think I am certain, and that is, that James would be just as comfortable and happy without it as with it.’