“Do you see that couch yonder?” said his companion, smiling.

“Yes.”

“Well, as soon as you have had supper, on that you must go to bed, and I will cover you with a light rug. Sleep will revive you, and things to-morrow morning will not look quite so dark and gloomy.”

“I shall do all you tell me.”

“Good boy! but mind, I have even Solomon’s authority for asking you to drink a little. ‘Give,’ he says, ‘strong drink to him Who is ready to perish... Let him drink... and remember his misery no more.’ And our irrepressible bard Burns must needs paraphrase these words in verse:


“‘Give him strong drink, until he wink,
That’s sinking in despair;
And liquor good to fire his blood,
That’s pressed wi’ grief and care.
There let him bouse and deep carouse
Wi’ bumpers flowing o’er;
Till he forgets his loves or debts,
An’ minds his griefs no more.’”


Chapter Twenty Four.

“Oh, Merciful Father! They are here.”