When Claire got back to his home， Lizzy was lying at thebottom of the stairs， waiting for his return. He lifted her， asusual， in his arms， and carried her up to his shop. After placingher upon the rude couch he had prepared for her， he sat downupon his bench， and as he looked upon the white， shrunkenface of his dear child， and met the fixed， sad gaze of her largeearnest eyes， a more than usual tenderness came over hisfeelings. Then， without a word， he took the orange from hispocket， and gave it into her hand.
Instantly there came over Lizzie’s face a deep flush ofsurprise and pleasure. A smile trembled around her wan lips，and an unusual light glittered in her eyes. Eagerly she placedthe fruit to her mouth and drank its refreshing juice， whileevery part of her body seemed quivering with a sense ofdelight.
“Is it good， dear？” at length asked the father， who sat lookingon with a new feeling at his heart.
The child did not answer in words； but words could not haveexpressed her sense of pleasure so eloquently as the smile thatlit up and made beautiful every feature of her face.
While the orange was yet at the lips of Lizzy， Mrs. Clairecame up into the shop for some purpose.
“An orange！” she exclaimed with surprise. “Where did thatcome from？”
“Oh， mamma？ it is so good！” said the child， taking fromher lips the portion that yet remained， and looking at it with ahappy face.
“Where in the world did that come from， Thomas？” askedthe mother.
“I bought it with my last penny，” replied Claire. “I thought itwould taste good to her.”
“But you had no tobacco.”
“I’ll do without that until to-morrow，” replied Claire.
“It was kind in you to deny yourself for Lizzy’s sake.”
This was said in an approving voice， and added anotherpleasurable emotion to those he was already feeling. Themother sat down， and， for a few moments， enjoyed the sightof her sick child， as with unabated eagerness she continuedto extract the refreshing juice from the fruit. When she wentdown-stairs， and resumed her household duties， her heart beatmore lightly in her bosom than it had beaten for a long time.
Not once through that whole day did Thomas Claire feel thewant of his pipe； for the thought of the orange kept his mindin so pleased a state， that a mere sensual desire like that for awhiff of tobacco had no power over him.
Thinking of the orange， of course， brought other thoughts；and before the day closed， Claire had made a calculation ofhow much his beer and tobacco money would amount to ina year. The sum astonished him. He paid rent for the littlehouse in which he lived， two pounds sterling a year， whichhe always thought a large sum. But his beer and tobacco costnearly seven pounds！ He went over and over the calculation adozen times， in doubt of the first estimate， but it always cameout the same. Then he began to go over in his mind the manycomforts seven pounds per annum would give to his family；and particularly how many little luxuries might be procuredfor Lizzy， whose delicate appetite turned from the coarse foodthat was daily set before her.
But to give up the beer and tobacco in toto， when it wasthought of seriously， appeared impossible. How could he livewithout them？
On that evening the customer whose boots he had takenhome in the morning， called in， unexpectedly， and paid forthem. Claire retained a sixpence of the money and gave thebalance to his wife. With this sixpence in his pocket he wentout for a mug of beer， and some tobacco to replenish his pipe.
He stayed some time—longer than he usually took for such anerrand.
When he came back he had three oranges in his pocket；and in his hands were two fresh bunns， and a cup of sweetnew milk. No beer had passed his lips， and his pipe was yetunsupplied. He had passed through another long conflict withhis old appetites； but love for his child came off， as before， theconqueror.
Lizzy， who drooped about all day， lying down most of hertime， never went to sleep early. She was awake， as usual， whenher father returned. With scarcely less eagerness than shehad eaten the orange in the morning， did she now drink thenourishing milk and eat the sweet bunns， while her father satlooking at her， his heart throbbing with inexpressible delight.
From that day the pipe and the mug were thrown aside. Itcost a prolonged struggle. But the man conquered the mereanimal. And Claire found himself no worse off in health. Hecould work as many hours， and with as little fatigue； in fact，he found himself brighter in the morning， and ready to go tohis work earlier， by which he was able to increase， at least ashilling or two， his weekly income. Added to the comfort of hisfamily， eight or ten pounds a year produced a great change. Butthe greatest change was in little Lizzy. For a few weeks， everypenny saved from the beer and tobacco the father regularlyexpended for his sick child： and it soon became apparent that itwas nourishing food， more than medicine， that Lizzy needed.
She revived wonderfully； and no long time passed before shecould sit up for hours. Her little tongue， too， became free oncemore， and many an hour of labour did her voice again beguile.
And the blessing of better food came also in time to the otherchildren， and to all.
“So much to come from the right spending of a singlepenny，” Claire said to himself， as he sat and reflected one day.
“Who could have believed it！”
And as it was with the poor cobbler， so it will be with all ofus. There are little matters of self-denial， which， if we had butthe true benevolence， justice， and resolution to practise， wouldbe the beginning of more important acts of a like nature， that，when performed， would bless not only our families， but others，and be returned upon us in a reward of delight incomparablybeyond any thing that selfish and sensual indulgences have itin their power to bring.