He never give Tom a chance, an' how am I goin' to love Him now?
Tom,"-- she pointed a shaking finger at the coffin in the next room,--"born, as you might say, drinkin'.

His father died in a drunken fit, and his mother give it to her baby with her milk.

Then, what schoolin' did he get?
Nothin', 'less it was his mother lickin' him.

Tom's often told me that.

He hadn't no trade learned, neither,--just rafted with men as bad as him.