Next morning when I awoke, although it was still early, I found Jake already dressed. Not only that, but he was at the whisky-keg in the corner, filling up a cup.
"My God! Jake,—you don't mean to tell me you are back to that stuff?"
"Yep! I ain't preachin' tee-total any more after this."
My heart sank within me. This,—after all his fighting.
I remonstrated with him all I could.
"But, man alive!" I said, "this is the early morning. Are you crazy? You never drank in the mornings before. Wait till night time. Give yourself a chance to get pulled together. You'll be feeling different after a while.
"Think! What will Rita say? What will Miss Grant think? How will you be able to face Mr. Auld? They all know of the good fight you have been putting up.
"Jake,—Jake,—for shame! Throw the stuff out at the door."
Jake only shook his head more firmly.
"It ain't no good preachin', George, or gettin' sore,—for I've quit tryin'.