Joe brought out some cold meat and bread and butter, and set it
before his guest.

"The fire's gone out," he said, "or I would give you some tea. Here
is a glass of milk, if you like it."

"Thank you, boy," said his visitor. "Milk is good enough for
anybody. One thing I can say, I've steered clear of liquor. A
brother of mine was intemperate and that was a warning to me. I took
credit to myself for being a steady-going man, compared with many of
my acquaintances out at the mines. But it don't do to boast. I've
done worse, perhaps. I've gambled away the provision I had made for
my poor family."

"Don't take it too hard," said Joe, in a tone of sympathy. "You know
how it is out here. Down to-day and up to-morrow."

"It'll take me a long time to get up to where I was," said the other;
"but it's my fault, and I must make the best of it."

Joe observed, with satisfaction, that his visitor was doing ample
justice to the supper spread before him. With a full stomach, he
would be likely to take more cheerful views of life and the future.
In this thought Joe proved to be correct.

"I didn't think I could eat anything," said the miner, laying down
his knife and fork, twenty minutes later, "but I have made a hearty
supper, thanks to your kindness. Things look a little brighter to me
now. I've had a hard pullback, but all is not lost. I've got to