them, you can't expect other people to. Begone!" said his employer,
advancing threateningly and stamping his foot.

Pat looked around in vain for help: the clerks were but fainter echoes
of their master.

Seeing his case to be hopeless, he turned about then hurried away, his
big red face distorted by many contending emotions. Nor did he stop
until he reached one of the fatal "gin-mills," where he soon drowned
memory and trouble in huge potations of the fiery element that was
destroying him and bringing wretchedness to "Bridget and the childer."

Again Dennis had a lesson on drinking for the effects.

He rapidly completed his work and entered the store. A clerk handed
him fifty cents.

"May I see Mr. Ludolph a moment?" he asked.

"Yes," replied the clerk, "he is in the inner office there; but I guess
you won't find him very smooth this evening," looking at the same time
suggestively toward the broken marble.

But Mr. Ludolph was not in as bad a humor as was imagined. This thrifty
Teuton had not lost much by the mishap of the afternoon, for a month
or two of wages was due Pat, and this kept back would pay in the main
for the injury he had done. His whole soul being bent on the acquirement
of money, for reasons that will be explained further on, his momentary
passion soon passed away when he found he had sustained no material
injury. To Dennis's knock he responded in his usual tone, "Come in!"