Mary Barner had learned the lesson early that the only easing of her own pain was in helping others to bear theirs, and so it came about that there was perhaps no one in Millford more beloved than she. Perhaps it was the memory of her own lost childhood that caused her heart to go out in love and sympathy to every little boy and girl in the village.

Their joys were hers; their sorrows also. She took slivers from little fingers with great skill, beguiling the owners thereof with wonderful songs and stories. She piloted weary little plodders through pages of “homework.” She mended torn “pinnies” so that even vigilant mothers never knew that their little girls had jumped the fence at all. She made dresses for concerts at short notice. She appeased angry parents, and many a time prevented the fall of correction’s rod.

When Tommy Watson beguiled Ignatius McSorley, Jr., to leave his mother’s door, and go swimming in the river, promising faithfully to “button up his back”-Ignatius being a wise child who knew his limitations-and when Tommy Watson forgot that promise and basely deserted Ignatius to catch on the back of a buggy that came along the river road, leaving his unhappy friend clad in one small shirt, vainly imploring him to return, Ignatius could not go home, for his mother would know that he had again yielded to the siren’s voice; so it was to the Barner back door that he turned his guilty steps. Miss Barner was talking to a patient in the office when she heard a small voice at the kitchen door full of distress, whimpering:

“Please Miss Barner, I’m in a bad way. Tommy Watson said he’d help me and he never!”

Miss Barner went quickly, and there on the doorstep stood a tiny cupid in tears, tightly clasping his scanty wardrobe to his bosom.

“He said he’d help me and he never!” he repeated in a burst of rage as she drew him in hastily.

“Never mind, honey,” she said, struggling to control her laughter. “Just wait till I catch Tommy Watson!”

Miss Barner was the assistant Band of Hope teacher. On Monday afternoon it was part of her duty to go around and help the busy mothers to get the children ready for the meeting. She also took her turn with Mrs. White in making taffy, for they had learned that when temperance sentiment waned, taffy, with nuts in it, had a wonderful power to bind and hold the wavering childish heart.

There was no human way of telling a taffy day-the only sure way was to go every time. The two little White girls always knew, but do you think they would tell? Not they. There was secrecy written all over their blond faces, and in every strand of their straw-coloured hair. Once they deliberately stood by and heard Minnie McSorley and Mary Watson plan to go down to the creamery for pussy-willows on Monday afternoon-there were four plates of taffy on their mother’s pantry shelf at the time and yet they gave no sign-Minnie McSorley and Mary Watson went blindly on and reaped a harvest of regrets.

There was no use offering the White girls anything for the information. Glass alleys, paint cards or even popcorn rings were powerless to corrupt them. Once Jimmy Watson became the hero of an hour by circulating the report that he had smelled it cooking when he took the milk to Miss Barner’s; but alas, for circumstantial evidence.

Every child went to Band of Hope that Monday afternoon eager and expectant; but it was only a hard lesson on the effect of alcohol on the lining of the stomach that they got, and when Mrs. White complimented them on their increased attendance and gave out the closing hymn,

Oh, what a happy band are we!

the Hogan twins sobbed.

When the meeting was over, Miss Barner exonerated Jimmy by saying it was icing for a cake he had smelled, and the drooping spirits of the Band were somewhat revived by her promise that next Monday would surely be Taffy Day.

On the last Monday of each month the Band of Hope had a programme instead of the regular lesson. Before the programme was given the children were allowed to tell stories or ask questions relating to temperance. The Hogan twins were always full of communications, and on this particular Monday it looked as if they would swamp the meeting.

William Henry Hogan (commonly known as Squirt) told to a dot how many pairs of shoes and bags of flour a man could buy by denying himself cigars for ten years. During William Henry’s recital, John James Hogan, the other twin, showed unmistakable signs of impatience. He stood up and waved his hand so violently that he seemed to be in danger of throwing that useful member away forever. Mrs. White gave him permission to speak as soon as his brother had finished, and John James announced with a burst of importance:

“Please, teacher, my pa came home last night full as a billy-goat.”

Miss Barner put her hand hastily over her eyes. Mrs. White gasped, and the Band of Hope held its breath.

Then Mrs. White hurriedly announced that Master James Watson would recite, and Jimmy went forward with great outward composure and recited:

As I was going to the lake
I met a little rattlesnake;
I fed him with some jelly-cake,
Which made his little-

But Mrs. White interrupted Jimmy just then by saying that she must insist on temperance selections at these programmes, whereat Pearlie Watson’s hand waved appealingly, and Miss Barner gave her permission to speak.

“Please ma’am,” Pearl said, addressing Mrs. White, “Jimmy and me thought anything about a rattlesnake would do for a temperance piece, and if you had only let Jimmy go on you would have seen what happened even a snake that et what he hadn’t ought to, and please ma’am, Jimmy and me thought it might be a good lesson for all of us.”

Miss Barner thought that Pearlie’s point was well taken, and took Jimmy with her into the vestry from which he emerged a few minutes later, flushed and triumphant, and recited the same selection, with a possible change of text in one place:

As I was going to the lake
I met a little rattlesnake;
I fed him on some jelly-cake,
Which made his little stomach ache.

The musical committee then sang:

We’re for home and mother,
God and native land,
Grown up friend and brother,
Give us now your hand.

and won loud applause. Little Sissy Moore knew only the first verse, but it would never have been known that she was saying dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum dum-dum-dum, if Mary Simpson hadn’t told.

Wilford Ducker, starched as stiff as boiled and raw starch could make him, recited “Perish, King Alcohol, we will grow up,” but was accorded a very indifferent reception by the Band of Hopers. Wilford was allowed to go to Band of Hope only when Miss Barner went for him and escorted him home again. Mrs. Ducker had been very particular about Wilford from the first.

Then the White girls recited a strictly suitable piece. It was entitled “The World and the Conscience.”

Lily represented a vain woman of the world bent upon pleasure with a tendency toward liquid refreshment. Her innocent china-blue eyes and flaxen braids were in strange contrast to the mad love of glittering wealth which was supposed to fill her heart:

Give to me the flowing bowl,
And Pleasure’s glittering crown;
The path of Pride shall be my goal,
And conscience’s voice I’ll drown!

Then Blanche sweetly admonished her:

Oh! lay aside your idle boasts,
No Pleasure thus you’ll find;
The flowing bowl a serpent is
To poison Soul and Mind.

Oh, sign our pledge, while yet you can,
Nor look upon the Wine
When it is red within the Cup,
Let not its curse be thine!

Thereupon the frivolous creature repents of her waywardness, and the two little girls join hands and recite in unison:

We will destroy this giant King,
And drive him from our land;
And on the side of Temp-er-ance
We’ll surely take our stand!

and the piece was over.

Robert Roblin Watson (otherwise known as Bugsey), who had that very day been installed as a member of the Band of Hope, after he had avowed his determination “never to touch, taste nor handle alcoholic stimulants in any form as a beverage and to discourage all traffic in the same,” was the next gentleman on the programme. Pearlie was sure Bugsey’s selection was suitable. She whispered to him the very last minute not to forget his bow, but he did forget it, and was off like a shot into his piece.

I belong to the Band of Hope,
Never to drink and never to smoke;
To love my parents and Uncle Sam,
Keep Alcohol out of my diaphragm;
To say my prayers when I go to bed,
And not put the bedclothes over my head;
Fill up my lungs with oxygen,
And be kind to every living thing.

There! I guess there can’t be no kick about that, Pearl thought to herself as Bugsey finished, and the applause rang out loud and louder.

Pearlie had forgotten to tell Bugsey to come down when he was done, and so he stood irresolute, as the applause grew more and more deafening. Pearl beckoned and waved and at last got him safely landed, and when Mrs. White announced that to-day was Taffy Day, owing to Miss Barner’s kindness, Bugsey’s cup of happiness was full. Miss Barner said she had an extra big piece for the youngest member, Master Danny Watson. Pearlie had not allowed any person to mention taffy to him because Danny could not bear to be disappointed.

But there were no disappointments that day. Taffy enough for every one, amber-coloured taffy slabs with nuts in it, cream taffy in luscious nuggets, curly twists of brown and yellow taffy. Oh look, there’s another plateful! and it’s coming this way. “Have some more, Danny. Oh, take a bigger piece, there’s lots of it.” Was it a dream?

When the last little Band of Hoper had left the vestry, Mary Barner sat alone with her thoughts, looking with unseeing eyes at the red and silver mottoes on the wall. Pledge cards which the children had signed were gaily strung together with ribbons across the wall behind her. She was thinking of the little people who had just gone-how would it be with them in the years to come?-they were so sweet and pure and lovely now. Unconsciously she bowed her head on her hands, and a cry quivered from her heart. The yellow sunlight made a ripple of golden water on the wall behind her and threw a wavering radiance on her soft brown hair.

It was at that moment that the Rev. Hugh Grantley, the new Presbyterian minister, opened the vestry door.