“I know one thing, though, little boy,” said the old lady, “that the sea, which fascinates so many young people, may prove to be a very hard master. O, I don’t like to hear it roar on stormy nights!”
Then the old lady went to a picture of a ship at sea hanging on the wall. There she stood and sighed. Charlie wondered what it all meant.
“But there is one thing we can do on stormy nights,” she added. “We can pray. And I sometimes think, nights when the winds are roaring, how many souls all along the coast must be kneeling while the sailors at sea are up in the rigging, climbing, or furling the sails.”
[Chapter XIV.]
Setting a Trap.
Ring, ring, ring!
The bell of St. John’s was busily swinging, flinging notes of gold and silver down upon the town, and in response, how many people came out into the streets as if to pick up the gold and silver shower. The bell was ringing for a temperance meeting. Many were immediately interested in the subject of temperance; but whether all would go, was a question. It was a serious doubt whether those that the meeting wanted would feel that they needed the meeting. There were several very important cases.
Case one—who?
Tim Tyler? He needed the meeting, but that is not the case here intended, but Dr. Tilton, the apothecary. Dr. Tilton? Yes. For some time it had been known he was in the habit of indulging in a glass, “only a glass.” As a result, he had been helped home drunk from his store. He did not feel desirous to attend the temperance meeting.