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TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR-ROOM.
"How are you, dear?" she asked, as she bent over and kissed her.
"Better, I thank you!" replied Mary, in a low whisper.
Then she fixed her eyes upon her mother's face with a look of inquiry.
"What is it, love?"
"Hasn't father waked up yet?"
"No, dear."
"Won't he wake up soon?"
"He's sleeping very soundly. I wouldn't like to disturb him."
"Oh, no; don't disturb him. I thought, maybe, he was awake."
And the child's lids drooped languidly, until the long lashes lay close against her cheeks.
There was silence for a little while, and then Mrs. Morgan said in a half-whisper to Mrs. Slade:
"Oh, we've had such a dreadful time with poor Joe. He got in that terrible way again
