Case one—­who?

Tim Tyler?  He needed the meeting, but that is not the case here intended, but Dr. Tilton, the apothecary.  Dr. Tilton?  Yes.  For some time it had been known he was in the habit of indulging in a glass, “only a glass.”  As a result, he had been helped home drunk from his store.  He did not feel desirous to attend the temperance meeting.

Case number two, Tim Tyler?  Not yet, but—­Will Somers!  Ah, that was sad.  If you could have seen Aunt Stanshy, you would have thought it was the saddest thing in the world.

“O, Miss Barry,” said Aunt Stanshy, bursting into tears, “I’m awful afraid I made an idol of that young man—­so nice, you know.  I’ve seen my idols break one after the other.  I shouldn’t have said a word about it, but he was seen on the street, and it became town talk, and it’s all out and round.  Dreadful, dreadful!”

“It is, and I’m afraid my uncle is responsible.  It is bad every way.  There is need of a temperance work here.  We are all asleep,” replied Miss Barry, who was calling at Aunt Stanshy’s, the two women opening their hearts to one another during the call.  Dr. Tilton was responsible for Will Somers’s fall.  One day, when Will was complaining of an ill feeling, the apothecary had proffered wine as a remedy, and had offered it several times when he was tired, and Will had fallen under the influence of a seemingly innocent ally.  People began to talk about Dr. Tilton and his clerk.  Then they began to shun the store.  Not all, though, for a line of red noses and trembling hands and unsteady knees filed into the store, and not the sick people sent orders, but old topers frequented the place more and more.  Dr. Tilton noticed the change, and was alarmed.  Still he did not change that habit of taking “only a glass.”  Will Somers was unhappy.  He saw his mistake, and knew that the community frowned upon him.  He rarely whistled now.  As for the musical instrument he once loved to perform upon, it was a silent piece of furniture.  He had some fine qualities of character, and his vulnerable side was his susceptibility to outside influence.  The enemy had found a weak wall on that side of his character, and there successfully assaulted him.  Will knew that his misconduct grieved Aunt Stanshy.  The club felt it, for by degrees the bad news reached them.  It seemed as if each one was burdened by a load of guilt—­as if having served in Dr. Tilton’s store, Charlie, Sid, Tony, and the rest had there sinned, and, in consequence, each had been seen tipsy on the street, and each carried a load that bowed him.

It was Charlie who happened to be at home when his teacher was calling on Aunt Stanshy, and he accidentally overheard a fragment of the conversation.  When Miss Barry was fairly out of the house, and Aunt Stanshy was returning through the entry to her kitchen-work, sighing by the way, Charlie ran to her and excitedly said, “We—­we—­will get up a meeting!”