"I wonder his father don't put him to some business," was
remarked. "The idle life he now leads will be his ruin."

"He was behind the bar for a year or two."

"Yes; and was smart at mixing a glass--but--"

"Was himself becoming too good a customer?"

"Precisely. He got drunk as a fool before reaching his fifteenth
year."

"Good gracious!" I exclaimed, involuntarily.

"It's true, sir," said the last speaker, turning to me, "I never
saw anything like it. And this wasn't all bar-room talk, which, as
you may know, isn't the most refined and virtuous in the world. I
wouldn't like my son to hear much of it. Frank was always an eager
listener to everything that was said, and in a very short time
became an adept in slang and profanity. I'm no saint myself; but
it's often made my blood run cold to hear him swear."

"I pity his mother," said I; for my thought turned naturally to
Mrs. Slade.

"You may well do that," was answered. "I doubt if Cedarville holds
a sadder heart. It was a dark day for her, let me tell you, when
Simon Slade sold his mill and built this tavern. She was opposed
to it at the beginning."