"Did your mother tell you all this, Walter?"
"And much more, Willy, I can tell you."
"She must be as good as a book, Walter."
"She always tells me, too, that it is so easy for young people to learn a bad habit, and so difficult to un-learn it; and therefore I have promised her never to go into such places as 'The Plough,' for fear of being tempted to do what it might afterwards be so hard to leave off."
Willy Day wished his friend good-night, and the boys separated.
Willy was a thoughtful boy, and as he walked homewards, he pondered upon all that Walter had said. He remembered many instances in his own home life when an extra three or four shillings a week would have been a great help, and when the want of it was the cause of much inconvenience.
He particularly recollected the time when his sister Lucy was kept away from school for many weeks through having no shoes fit to go in. His mother had told him she could not afford to buy her any. Now, if what Walter's mother said was true, the money which his father spent in one fortnight only at "The Plough," would have bought Lucy a capital pair of shoes.
When he reached home, he found his mother sitting by the fire, nursing the youngest child, a baby of a year old, who was crying as if in great pain.
"Is baby no better, mother?"
"No, Willy; the doctor came again this evening, and he says its chest is very delicate, and that it must wear flannel. I am sure I don't know where the money is to come from."