"O, dear! What will become of us?" sighed the little girl, as she hobbled away.
Harry was struck by the sad appearance of the girl, and the desponding words she uttered. Of late, Joe Flint's vile habit of intemperance had grown upon him so rapidly that he did not work at the stable more than one day in three. For two months, Major Phillips had been threatening to discharge him; and nothing but kindly consideration for his family had prevented him from doing so.
"Have you seen Joe to-day?" asked Harry of one of the ostlers, who came into the room soon after the departure of the little girl.
"No, and don't want to see him," replied Abner, testily; for, in Joe's absence, his work had to be done by the other ostlers, who did not feel very kindly towards him.
"His little girl has just been here after him."
"Very likely he hasn't been home for a week," added Abner. "I should think his family would be very thankful if they never saw him again. He is a nuisance to himself and everybody else."
"Where does he live?"
"Just up in Avery Street—in a ten-footer there."
"The little girl said her mother was very sick."
"I dare say. She is always sick; and I don't much wonder. Joe Flint is enough to make any one sick. He has been drunk about two-thirds of the time for two months."