4 
SEED-TIME AffD HARVEST. 
nearly every evening to play cards. And, 
as a matter of course, liquor was freely 
passed around. At the end of the year it 
was no unusual thing for the village to be 
disturbed by a street brawl, and the sight of 
a man under the influence of liquor was 
so frequent as not to excite comment. But 
Mr. Lambert refused to listen to the voice 
of conscience. He had paid off all his small 
debts, and expected to be able very soen to 
lift the mortgage on his farm. The idea of 
giving up the saloon was clearly out of 
the question. During the second year of 
the existence of the saloon, a paper-mill 
was started in the village, and this brought 
many new residents to the place. The bus¬ 
iness at Lambert’s increased perceptibly, 
and in a short time he had not only paid off 
the mortgage on his farm, but b«gan the 
erection of a house in the village, which 
was to be handsomer than anything of the 
kind ever attempted there. 
“There’s where your wages have gone,” 
said Mr. Heckles to a poor laborer, who 
was standing before the new edifice one 
evening just prior to its completion. “You 
deprive yourself of every comfort, and keep 
your wife and children in abject poverty, 
in order that this man may build a fine 
house and live at his ease.” The laborer 
stared at him, but made no reply. The 
argument was too deep for his dull com¬ 
prehension. The indulgence of his appetite 
for strong drink was of more consequece to 
him than wife, children, and home all put 
together. One evening, as Mr. Heckles rode 
past the new house, he saw Mr. Lambert at 
the gate, and stopped to speak to him. 
While they were talking, a man staggered 
by, half supported by a shabbily dressed 
woman, down whose pale, sorrow-stricken 
face the tears were streaming. 
“I saw that woman go into you saloon 
half an hour ago,” said Heckles. “She was 
looking for her husband, I suppose.”- 
“Probably,” said Lambert, sharply. “The 
fellow is always drunk on Saturday night.” 
-“I suppose you are ready to admit now 
that your saloon has done some harm?” 
said Heckles.-“If I didn’t sell them 
liquor some other man would.” said Lam¬ 
bert.-“Probably. But you ought not 
to be the man. If every man made up his 
mind to that there wouldn't be any liquor 
sold.’’-“I’m not sorry I opened the saloon, 
Heckles,” said Lambert, impatiently. “Tt 
has paid me well. I am now out of debt, 
and in a fair way to become in very com¬ 
fortable circumstances. I have been sin¬ 
gularly prospered.” “Those who fre¬ 
quent your saloon have not prospered.” 
said Heckles, with a short laugh. “And I 
believe you will be sorry yet that you 
opened the place, Lambert. ” 
Lambert smiled, and changed the subject, 
little dreaming that he was to begin the 
reaping of his harvest that very night. He 
retired early to rest, but about midnight 
was aroused by the sound of a great com¬ 
motion beneath his window, and the loud 
ringing of the door-bell. He hastened down 
stairs, and as he threw open the hall door 
he met a crowd of men, bearing on a shut¬ 
ter the body of his son. which was covered 
with blood. 
“There’s been a row down at the saloon,” 
said some one. ‘ 4 Arthur’s pretty badly cut 
up.”-“Arthur! My son!” cried Lambert, 
in a tone of horror; for he had known noth¬ 
ing of Arthur’s predilection for liquor, his 
visits to Butler’s parlor.-“It can not be.” 
Arthur died the following day, and the 
wretched father went almost mad with 
grief and despair. But he did not blame 
himself, or the saloon for the accident. He 
spent all his rage upon the man w^ho had 
assaulted his son, and used every endeavor 
to have him properly punished. Only 
when he had been committed to prison for 
a term of years was the father’s desire for 
revenge appeased. But the saloon went on, 
and a greater blow was to fall upon its 
proprietor. One morning Cora did not 
appear at breakfast, and on investigation 
of her absence the parents discovered that 
she had eloped with a young man whose 
dissipated course had caused Mr. Lambert 
to forbid him the house. This blow almost 
broke the father’s heart. In a few weeks 
he became like an old man, and his friends 
feared for his reason, so deeply did he 
brood over his sorrows. 
It soon became apparent that Joe, the 
only remaining son, was drinking to ex¬ 
cess. He was employed as book-keeper 
in the paper-mill, but neglected his duties 
