The Drunkard !

The Drunkard !

Father was stepping out like a boy, pleased with everything the other mourners, and the fine houses along Sunday’s well, I knew the danger signals were there in full force: a sunny day, a fine funeral, and a distinguished company of and public men were bringing out all the natural vanity and flightiness of Father’s character. It was with something like genuine pleasure that he saw his old friend lowered into the grave; with the sense of having performed a duty and the pleasant awareness that however much he would miss poor Mr. Dooley in the long summer evenings, it was he and not poor Mr. Dooley who would do the missing We’ll be making tracks before they break up,” he whispered to Crowley as the gravediggers tossed in the first shovelfuls of clay, and away he went hopping like a goat from grassy hump to hump. The drivers, who were probably in the same state as himself, though without months of abstinence put an edge on it, looked up hopefully Are they nearly finished, Mick?” bawled one. “All over now bar the last prayers, trumpeted Father in the tone of one who brings news of great rejoicing The carriages passed us in a lather of dust several hundred yards from the public house, and Father, whose feet gave hin trouble in hot weather body of mourners crossing the hill. In a crowd like that a man might be kept waiting. When we did teach the pub the carriages were drawn up outside, an solemn men in black ties were cautiously bringing out consolation to mysterious females whose hands reached out modestly from behind the drawn blinds f the coaches. Inside the pub there were only the drivers and a couple of I felt if I was to act as a brake at all, this was the time, so shawly women I pulled Father by the coattails Dadda, can’t we go home now?” I asked”Two minutes now,” he said, beaming affectionately. “Just a bottle of lemonade and we’ll go home This was a bribe, and knew it, but I was always a child of weak character, Father ordered lemonade and two pints. I was thirsty and swallowed my drink at once. But that wasn’t Fathers way. He had long months of abst behind him and an eternity of pleasure before. He took out his pipe blew through it, filled it, and then hit it with loud pops, his eyes at he deliberately his back on the pint, leaned one above it.

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