I don't----" "Yes, it was," he interrupted, "until last year when Uncle John took to running with travelling men----" "What ?" "Yes'm." He nodded solemnly.

"That was what started it.

At first he was a good, kind husband, but these travelling men would coax him into a saloon on his way home from work, and they got him to drinking beer and then ales, wines, liquors, and cigars----" "Penrod!" "Ma'am ?" "I'm not inquiring into your Aunt Clara's private affairs; I'm asking you if you have anything to say which would palliate----" "That's what I'm tryin' to TELL you about, Miss Spence," he pleaded,--"if you'd jest only let me.

When Aunt Clara and her little baby daughter got to our house last night----" "You say Mrs.Farry is visiting your mother ?" "Yes'm--not just visiting--you see, she HAD to come.

Well of course, little baby Clara, she was so bruised up and mauled, where he'd been hittin' her with his cane----" "You mean that your uncle had done such a thing as THAT!" exclaimed Miss Spence, suddenly disarmed by this scandal.
"Yes'm, and mamma and Margaret had to sit up all night nursin' little Clara--and AUNT Clara was in such a state SOMEBODY had to keep talkin' to HER, and there wasn't anybody but me to do it, so I----" "But where was your father ?" she cried.
"Ma'am ?" "Where was your father while----" "Oh--papa ?" Penrod paused, reflected; then brightened.