lay beyond it—people whose life was one hopeless round of toil, with nothing to brighten or cheer its dull monotony. Some of them were decent people too, honest and industrious. It is true they got drunk occasionally, and were not always as civil to their wives and families and to each other as they might be; yet, notwithstanding, they had a soft place in their hearts, and were ever ready to watch by a sick neighbour's bed-side, or lend a helping hand to a mate more needy than themselves.
How to get hold of these children of the great Father, and lead them into His fold, was a problem that had puzzled Joe for some time. At length he decided, with his wife's consent, to invite them to tea, or as many of them as could be accommodated, some Sunday afternoon, and when he had got them together, to talk to them on those matters which were of such vital importance.
Accordingly the invitations were sent out, and on the Sunday afternoon already mentioned some fifteen men found their way to Joe Wrag's cottage, wondering what was in the wind. When they had all got comfortably seated on the forms that Joe had provided, Joe stood up in a comer of the room, and looked around him: evidently it was no easy task to begin to talk. Joe had no idea that it would be so difficult. Every eye was fixed upon him with a wondering expression. Joe coughed two or three times, then making a tremendous effort, he said—
"You all know me, mates?"
"Ay," they all exclaimed, "we ought to, anyhow."
