And so saying, Braddock turned away, and strode off with a resolute bearing. His wife followed with her eyes the form of her husband until it was out of sight, and then closed the door with a long-drawn sigh.
The way to Mr. Jones' house was past Arnold's grogshop, and as Braddock drew nearer and nearer to his accustomed haunt, he felt a desire, growing stronger and stronger every moment, to enter and join his old associates over a glass of liquor. To this desire, he opposed every rational objection that he could find. He brought up before his mind his suffering wife and neglected children, and thought of his duty to them. He remembered that it was drink, and drink alone, that had been the cause of his downfall. But with all these auxiliaries to aid him in keeping his resolution, it seemed weak when opposed to desires, which long continued indulgence had rendered inordinate. Onward he went with a steady pace, fortifying his mind all the while with arguments against drinking, and yet just ready at every moment to yield the contest he was waging against habit and desire. At last the grog-shop was in sight, and in a few minutes he was almost at the door.
"Hurrah! Here's Jim Braddock, bright and early!" cried one of his old cronies, from among two or three who were standing in front of the shop.
"So the cold-water-men havn't got you yet!" broke in another. "I thought Jim Braddock was made of better stuff."
"Old birds aint caught with chaff!" added a third.
"Come! Hallo! Where are you off to in such a hurry, with your tools on your back?" quickly cried the first speaker, seeing that Braddock was going by without showing any disposition to stop.
"I've got a job to do that's in a hurry," replied Braddock, pausing—"and have no time to stop. And besides, I've sworn off."
"Sworn off! Ha! ha! Have you taken the pledge?"
"No, I have not. I'm not going to bind myself down not to drink any thing. I'll be a free man. But I won't touch another drop, see if I do."
"O yes—we'll see. How long do you expect to keep sober?"