Invitation for a wedding, good news. 288.

…till the whiskey flowed. And all the while the alcohol poured from me, and I saw them gulp it down, my thirst and craving for it grew, and I besought and implored them to spare me a drop — just one drop, one tiny drop. But they shook their heads, and murmured. ‘Serve you right! Ask Paul, and see what he says.’ And none of them pitied me, till my youngest niece, Dorothy, whom I had many a time in her childhood half scared to death by my tipsy antics, and who had lately joined the Salvation Army, came into the room, and, on seeing my mother-in-law slyly give my sore and bleeding nose a vicious twist, at once ran up to her and pulled her away, crying out, ‘ For shame! Poor uncle! See how you have hurt him!’ And as she fetched some cold spring water, and bathed…