'WE saw old Alice again, this afternoon, mother,' said Emma Warren, as she seated herself at the tea-table. I do believe the old creature is always rambling by the lake.'

'Emma!'

'Pardon me, dear mother I remember you told me always to call her Mrs Pierce, but, indeed, she does not seem to me worthy so respectable a title.'

You should respect yourself, my daughter, too much ever to use nicknames, especially when the object is so wretched,' said Mrs Warren.

6

'But she looks wicked, aunt,' said Fanny Williamson, or I thought so, because cousin George told me she was called a witch.'

Here Mr Warren turned his eye reprovingly on George, who colored like scarlet, and swallowed his toast as fast as possible, while he stammered out-Father, all the boys call her a witch.'

'What is a witch, George?' inquired Mr Warren with a grave face.

Why a witch is a witch, father, is a very old woman.' 'Like your grandmother, my love,' interrupted Mrs Dalton, the aged mother of Mrs Warren.

Poor George! His eyes filled with tears as he raised them to gaze on that placid, but time-worn countenance, which to him was the most beautiful and most beloved of any face in the world, his mother's only excepted.

'My dear son,' said Mr Warren, kindly, you feel that your explanation was not a proper one. Let this teach you never to repeat the idle sayings of your play-fellows, till you really understand what they mean. Your affectionate grandmother will, I know, excuse your allusion, for she knows you could mean nothing personal. But some elderly ladies, had they heard you use such an improper expression, would have been deeply hurt and offended. It is,' continued Mr Warren, looking round on the young ladies, it is a serious charge, and I fear too true, which the people of the old world bring against us republicans our youth treat the aged with disrespect. I hope none of my children will, by indulging in such wicked levity, bring shame on their parents.'

And on themselves also,' observed Mrs Warren. Who that is young does not hope to live many years? If we enjoy the privilege of long life we must pay its tax that of growing old.'

6

But not odd or disagreeable, mother,' said Emma quickly. 'I am sure I love old people dearly. My kindest and best friends are among the aged. I cannot believe that Mrs Pierce was ever a pleasant, loveable woman.'

She was a beauty and a belle, Emma,' said Mrs Warren. 'She was also an heiress, and her wealth was envied and her notice courted by many whose children or grand-children now call her a witch. I saw her when she was Alice Caxton, and her fair young face was beaming with hope and happiness. How could she anticipate such a change?'

What did happen to her, grandmother?' said George, brightening up, as he found the conversation taking a turn which would obliterate the memory of his unfortunate witch exposition.

said Mrs

Her story is too long to be told at the tea-table' Dalton. 'But this evening, dear grandmother will you tell it this evening? inquired Emma.

Mrs Dalton looked around on her grand-children for a few moments, thoughtfully then turning to her daughter, she said It was, I think, Miss Edgeworth who recommended that works designed for the young, should be read to them.

before being published. What if I read my manuscript this evening.'

'O, yes, do, do

dear grandmother!' echoed on all sides. 'Do any of you know what the manuscript contains?' inquired Mr Warren.

'A story, a new story, I guess,' cried George.

And this joy is all because you are to hear something new!' said his mother.

It will be good, too, if grandmother has written it,' cried the young ladies.

"That is the best compliment, my dears,' said Mrs Dalton. It was with the hope of doing good by communicating some facts respecting the influence which the traffic in distilled spirits had, apparently, on the fate of an interesting family, that induced me to write my sketch. This evening you shall decide its fate. If George thinks, after hearing it, that he would be willing to become a distiller, even though he might gain a princely fortune by the business, or if either of my granddaughters think they should be willing to marry a man, whatever might be his merits, who was engaged in any way in the traffic of ardent spirits why I will burn my manuscript.'

CHAPTER II.-- THE BEGINNING OF THE STORY.

Jacob Caxton was allowed to be the most enterprising man in the village of W. He was a carpenter by trade, and began life with the determination to be rich. Most young men desire to be so, but they do not will it; they wish, but they do not work; sigh, but do not save. Jacob was more consistent, (I do not say more wise, for I am not positive that true wisdom consists in gaining riches,) be willed, and worked, and saved, and grew rich.

At forty years of age, Jacob Caxton owned houses and lands, and had money at interest. He had better blessings than these; he had a pleasant-tempered, prudent wife, who managed her house most discreetly, and took care of her six children without ever complaining of her cares and troubles. Jacob loved his wife and children, they were a fine promising family, and he flattered himself that all his toil was to maintain them in comfort and this was not a selfish feeling. A man ought to labor; a Christian ever must provide for his own household.