Old Plenty. 357 



ga'den." " Yes, Plenty," said the Doctor, " I don't 

 doubt that you will do your best for us when you 

 are sober ; but when you are getting over a spree, 

 you will be likely to cut up your plants faster than 

 you raised them." Plenty still promised and plead- 

 ed, and finally was installed as head gardener. Alas 

 for human strength ! With better intentions, perhaps, 

 than moved the breast of the renowned " Tarn J 

 Shanter," poor Plenty occasionally had a sad fall, 

 succeeded by renewed promises of amendment. 

 Thus the years rolled on and the habit strengthened, 

 until, at length, the poor old fellow writhed under a 

 genuine attack of Mania a potu. 



On his recovery, he came rushing into the Doctor 's 

 study as if fiends were pursuing him. Trembling, 

 he stammered out, ' Massa Bach man, Plenty nebber, 

 nebber drink one drap moe." " Ah, Plenty, I wish 

 that I could believe that!" Then the poor old man, 

 with many tears, graphically described what he call- 

 ed " me dreamt The devil, he asserted, had appeared 

 to him he knew him " by de horns and de tail," 

 and told him that " drunken ole Plenty was his 

 sure, and he would put him in de big fire in de bad 

 place." His faithful Father Confessor, further deep- 

 ened these wholesome lears by quoting St. Paul's 

 words, " Neither idolaters nor drunkards shall inherit 

 the kingdom of God" Shaking with fear, he cried 

 out, " De debbil nebber, nebber shal git ole Plenty." 



Perhaps, after all his terrors and his deep peni- 

 tence, an angel whispered words of hope and peace 

 to the terror-stricken soul. He never could be 



