J. J. Bell

“ I, John Forgie, Plumber, of Fairport, being of sound mind and sober, doth hereby promise, in the presence of Joseph Redhorn, Painter, Paperhanger and Decorator, also of Fairport, to solemnly abstain now and for evermore from all self-indulgence in all manner and species of intoxicating beverages, including Whisky, Brandy, Beer, Rum, Port, Sherry, &c., &c., &c. Given at Fairport on the 3rd day of March, 1913, A.D. Witness my hand and seal. God save the King. ”

“ Redhorn simply gaped.
"Even if ye're no' in the habit o' drinkin', ye'll be safer when ye've ta'en the pledge," she continued. "I've aye understood ye to be a sober man, Maister Ridhorn, but even at your time o' life ye canna tell what temptations are afore ye. It's no' lang since I read aboot the case o' a man that fell for the first time at the age o' eighty-five. Ye'll maybe no' live as long as that; still—"
"Excuse me for interruptin' ye," said the painter, pulling his wits and dignity together. ”

“ He couldna see that their bein' in guid order had done me oot o' a job."
"An honest plumber," observed Mr. Redhorn, "is yin o' heaven's maist wondrous handiworks."
"If I was gaun to the meenister for to sign the pledge," continued Mr. Forgie, ignoring the remark, "he micht tak' it as a sort o' apology. Besides it was ower later to gang there, an' as I tell't ye, I'm off in the early boat to the city—wi' a' its temptations."
"I see," said the painter, more kindly than he had yet spoken. "Weel, John, if it's to witness yer signature, I'm ready. ”

“ So mind that, John, an' come when the spirit moves ye."
Once more the visitor expressed gratitude, and having again received the painter's assurance of secrecy, took his departure.
Mr. Redhorn went to bed, tired but unwontedly happy. It is true that until this evening he had been quite unaffected one way or another by the existence of John Forgie. It is equally true, however, that he would have done as much for any other man who happened to need a helping hand.
Fairport was eating its midday meal when Mr. Redhorn kept his promise to Mr. Forgie. ”

“ Redhorn hastily. "I'll be gled if ye'll jine me."
Mr. Forgie's acceptance of the invitation was more ready than gracious.
"I got in a bottle of ginger wine for ye."
Mr. Forgie groaned. "I tried a gless in the city. Thon's a terrible drink."
"Maybe ye didna get the best vintage," said the painter pleasantly, despite his wounded feelings. "A great deal depends on the vintage. Wait till ye sample mine's. I think I'll gi'e ye a stiff gless in bilin' water. The fumes alane are invigoratin'. By the way, I hope ye're partial to tinned sawmon, John, because I got in a tin for oor tea." ”

“ The other took it with a sigh. "I'm afraid I'm no' exactly that," he said modestly, "for, to tell ye the truth, it was the siller that catched me to begin wi'. But when I seen her takin' sic an interest in ma—ma behaviour, an' so forth, I began to feel different. In fac', I wud marry her if she hadna a penny. Trade's no' half bad the noo." And Mr. Forgie buried his nose in his tumbler.
"Spoke like a man!" cried Mr. Redhorn: "Forby bein' a noble character, ye're in ma opeenion a maist deservin' suitor. Could ye eat a bit toasted cheese, jist to feenish off the evenin'?" ”

“ Doubtless the picture then of these two middle-aged men—the long, melancholy visage, the fat, foolish, kindly countenance—was more odd than impressive; but we can't all look like 'heroes in our hours of crisis. ”

“ D'ye ken hoo mony men she's got to sign the pledge, since she cam' into 'her money? Nine! An' every man o' them is a bachelor, excep' yin that's a widower. An' nane o' them was ever a hard drinker; some was practically teetotal."
"Criftens!" the painter ejaculated. ”

“ At ony rate, she didna seem able to look me in the face, an' it used to be the ither way aboot."
"It soun's promisin', John, it soun's promisin'.... Weel, I hope I'll be the first to hear the joyful' news the morn's nicht."
"Ye can coont on that, Joseph! I doobt it'll mean anither symphonium, or whatever ye ca' it," the little man laughed, as he presented his empty tumbler. "Oh, ay, I'm no' dispairin'!" ”

“ The timely death of a relative in Canada had endowed her with a sum of money, the interest on which, as variously calculated by her neighbours, would amount to something between one hundred and one hundred and fifty pounds a year. ”

“ John Forgie!"
"John Forgie!" The painter's astonishment was not unnatural, considering that Mr. Forgie, though familiar as a neighbour, had never called upon him before. "I was preparin' to retire," he continued. "Is't onything important?"
"Ay, it's important, but I'll no' keep ye lang."
Mr. Redhorn opened the door. ”

“ Mr. Forgie wiped his brow, and went red in the face. "Ach, I better tell ye a' aboot it," he said, laughing feebly. "I proposed last nicht, an' she said she wud need a month to conseeder it. Of course, she couldna conseeder it at a' unless I signed the pledge, for she said she could never respec' ony man that hadna signed it. ”

“ Ye see—"
"Weel, weel," the host interrupted impatiently, "I'll maybe ha'e a bottle o' ginger wine on tap the next time ye favour me wi' a call—if it's no' later nor nine o'clock."
"Thenk ye," said Mr. ”