"I wouldn't mind if only my health were vigorous, and I had physical strength to face life bravely," sighed Mrs. Stewart in reply.
"Do let me beg you to take all the care of yourself that you can. You must think not only of the present, but of the future, for these little ones who need such unceasing toil now will want your loving thought and oversight for many years to come; and for their sake, and your husband's, it is your bounden duty to stimulate your flagging energies and strengthen your system to meet the constant demand upon it," was the response.
"How can I?" despairingly asked Mrs. Stewart; "you see baby, poor little fellow, fills my arms night and day, and seldom gives me a chance of taking proper rest."
"I know of only one way in which, overtaxed as you are, you can prevent yourself from breaking down under such pressure, and that is, by taking stimulants in one form or another. When you feel nervous and depressed, don't hesitate to take a glass of wine, and before commencing your dinner and supper take a little malt liquor to give you an appetite, for after attending to the children's wants I am sure you must feel disinclined to eat anything yourself."
"Yes, I am often unable to eat a mouthful of solid food; but thanks for your advice; I will try what a little stimulant will do for me."
So Mrs. Stewart commenced the daily use of alcoholic stimulants, and finding their effects to be beneficial to body and mind, and knowing little or nothing of the subtle danger that lurked in the poisoned cup, each domestic emergency that arose was ere long met in the fictitious strength afforded by the ready stimulant.
Years passed away, and the children, whose ceaseless demands upon their mother's patience and love had well-nigh exhausted her strength, grew into girlhood and boyhood.
One morning the family was seated at the breakfast table when the servant brought in a letter enclosing a bill with the familiar signature of a well-known firm of brewers. The husband's brows knitted as he glanced down the items.
"It seems to me, Eliza, that we use too much ale and wine for a private family. Why, we consume more and more, and I only take the same quantity that I did years ago. It's more than I can stand!" he said, looking across at his wife, who was listlessly sitting at the head of the table with her coffee untasted before her. She answered sharply:
"I can't help it, John; I shouldn't take it if I didn't need it, and you might know that nothing else has kept me alive for many a year."