Will. Here? Why, Mary, you forget the little brown jug, which first tempted me to drink, which created a thirst, which, fight against as I will, must be quenched.
Mary. Ah; but the little brown jug will not tempt you now. Since that day there has been no more brewing of strong drink. Father has abandoned it, and the old jug has been put to a better use.
Will. A better use?
Mary. Yes. ’Tis now placed in the cupboard in father’s room, and every Saturday night he places in it the sum of money he would have expended for liquor during the week. There’s quite a large sum there.
Will. That’s very queer. In father’s cupboard, you say?
Mary. Yes. But you do not inquire after Ned.
Will. Ned Hartshorn? Is he here still?
Mary. Will, are you ignorant of his severe illness? Did not Mr. Douglas tell you?
Will. Nothing concerning Ned Hartshorn. I haven’t heard his name before for a year.