(Jld PlniUj, 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 ^'ou 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 *' Tam O' 

 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 

 geiuiine 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 Bachman, Plenty nebber, 

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

 that 1 could believe that !" Then the poor old man, 

 with many tears, graphically described what he call- 

 ed " me dreamJ' 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 fears by quoting St. Paul's 

 words, " Neither idolaters nor dntnkards shall inherit 

 the kingdom of God.^^ vShaking 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 



