ST BECKY
A very good man was St Becky’s husband, but with his heart a little too much in his bottle. Port wine—red port wine—was his delight, and his constant cry was—bee’s-wing. Now as he sat tipsy in his arbour, a wasp dropped into his glass, and the wasp was swallowed, stinging the man inwardly. Doctors crowded, and with much ado the man’s life was saved. Now St Becky nursed her husband tenderly to health, and upbraided him not; but she said these words, and they reformed him:—“My dear, take wine, and bless your heart with it—but wine in moderation: else, never forget that the bee’s wing of to-day becomes the wasp’s sting of to-morrow.”