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Rh "inner chamber" unduly close, and had crept forth to complete his "sleeping it off" in a cooler quarter.

"Get up there, you drunken loafer!" cried Jinnie. Seizing a broom the indignant little woman, as if to give vent to her feelings, rushed to the couch of the sleeping, giant, and began to belabour his almost nude nether limbs. Slowly Alec opened his eyes, and smiled as was his wont. Putting forth his arm, he sought languidly to parry the furious blows of his irate spouse.

"Not so hard, lassie—not so hard!" he protested: that was all.

Frank Brown seized the opportunity of making a last appeal before he left the parish. He reasoned with, scolded, implored the erring weakling. He pointed out the ruin to which the home had been reduced, the wreck Jinnie was becoming. The old man, sobered now, hid his face in his hands, and sobbed like a child. For the first time in his life the soldier faltered—and yielded.

"You give me a chance, sir," he asked at length, with streaming eyes, "and I'll never touch a drop again. The old place is ruined, I can never mend here; but let me go with you, sir. I can plough and sow, and plant and farm, with the best of them. Take me out of this, and God will take me out of myself, and my sin."

Jinnie, quieter now, shook her head and rocked herself Hopelessly.

"It's been coming oN him forty year," she moaned. "He'll never give it up now."

"'Never too late to mend,' we were saying of the pants," the cleric suggested.

The old soldier seized the young man's hands.

"Did I ever tell a lie, sir, though I often made a beast o' mysel'?" He looked unflinchingly to his wife, to his priest. Even Jinnie could not lay untruthfulness to