JOE'S CHOICE.—A WORKSHOP INCIDENT.

Thames Star, Volume VIII, Issue 2901, 3 June 1878, Page 4

JOE'S CHOICE.—A WORKSHOP INCIDENT.

"I'll betyoti a sovereign, V^oe, that you don't keep the pledge 'a fortnight!" —" Well, I'll try,-Bill, at all events ; but ■ I rwon't bet;"—; ■" Jbu, won't bet?"— "No, I can't afford to risk the money." •—There was a shout of laughter from the men who stood listening to the dialogue, at Joe's frank confession, and one of them taking a foaming tankard from the bar counter (for it was in a public-house, ona Saturday night, and Johnson's" hands " were being paid), offered it:to Joe, saying —" Here, man, drink, and never mind taking no pledge—-you won't keep;it;three flays." Joe Iboked for a moment at: the tempting draught, while a rush of blood through his (■whole, system- made him tremble, and," then.i came two pictures swiftly and clearly before his, mental vision. One presented a blooming, lassie listening in, the pool still air of a summer night to the pleading df a youthful" loyer. The other-showed' the imagd of a woman ■with a broiied and blefeding face, cowering behind ab^okeii:chair for protection from a dninkenhusband.^"Nol^said,Joe, suddenly;';•'-No,: mate, I won't drink. „ £hj&nk ybtfj'' and with his basket of tools 'iipoii'his shoulder he walked out of [the public-hotise amid .a- burst of jeering ■„, laughter, (Joe Kinds wasjia strongly*built i fellow in the prime of life, but with a blpated,iblotched face: which proclaimedthe" intemperate mari> n Fearing for ;the , stability: of J his newly •formed resolution, i fhe ihutried alofagfthe streets—setting his ' lips tightly together as he passed the public-houses—-and having turned at last down a narrow passage, stopped before T ,the doof! of a dirty and unwholesome tenement. By means.of ,p.\ Btririg which, passed through the centre of the aoor and , hung loose on the outside, he obtained ingress to the house, and speedily found himself in a small and miserably-furnished room. A woman with a bruised and cut face was sitting on the hearth as he entered, as though striving to extract some warmth even from the empty grate.— ; 11 Well, lass I ".said Joe to her, as"she.rose .trembling .at his entrance, " I've come home to-night, fora change."—She looked' at him doubtlully as he seated ; himself in a broken ,chair, but., she. did not speak. . There was a short silence, arid then joe; said softly, " Have you had anything to eat today, lass ?'•■—" No, Joe! "-^-" No

more have I. Go and get something

while I take a stroll," and Joe put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out two gold pieces and a quantity of silver, which he put in his wife's hand, and then left the room.' The woman stood for a momfent or two in the centre of the" wretched apartment, gazing at the money as though she doubted the evidence of her senses; then suddenly falling on her knees, she cried with passionate fervour, " O, God be thanked ! O, God, grant it may last! " -^-When Joe returned an hour afterwards

there was a bright fire in the grate, and a snug meal on the table, and the dis***"' room had put on a comfortable,.] I'"' -'.'{ti^ 1 appearance in the glow:^ p "' <JQie^lji© fire. .Joe stepped - - the cheerful kissed her te^ up to his wife and cheek, +1' ..uerly on the popr bruised <'T' uU en whispered in her earlassie, I!ve taken the \ " . .•■•#.■■/# * . # -'*■- ■*: ,'.•.:'

—"How long have you been a teetotaler now, Joe? "—"Nigh handy six months, Bill."—" And never touched 7 a drop all that time ?""—" Not a drpp:''--" Whew! I should have lost my soverigu, Joe!f' —"You would so, lad." —" But Joe don't look bo well on it, neither," chimed in one or two more of his shopmates, as they regarded him attentively ; and to be sure his face was thinner, but the unwholesomelooking blotches were gone, and the once inflamed and watery eyes were now clear, and bright, and smiling...." Well/ retorted Joe, with a pleasant laugh,;as he drove off a long fine shaviDg with his keen-.set. plane, " if I. don't look so well,lads, I feel, better, and; that's the main thiDg, I reckon."-—".But jwhat made you turn a teetotaler, Joe ? " asked an apprentice.— '.' Well, my boy, because things had come to that pitch that I was forced to make a stand and chooso. On one side was the pleasure of drinking company, to be paid for with a miserable home, an unhappy wife, a waning constitution, and the workhouse in prospective. On ■ the other hand was an act of determined selfdenial, to be rewarded by a comfortable home, a plesant wife, improved health,; and a round little sum in the savings bank,