IT was one of those summer mornings when the earth seems all aglow with sunshine. The Granger House faced the east, and the doors and windows were opened to let in the light and brightness of the morning. It was a handsome house, somewhat old-fashioned, but handsome still and elegantly furnished. It should have been a happy home, but there was a shadow resting upon it; as yet it was not a deep, dark shadow, indeed it was scarcely perceptible to any save to one troubled heart. Mr. Granger did not see it, he did not know that a horrible fear was sometimes clutching at the heart of his almost idolized wife. He did not suspect his own peril and did not see as she did, the demon lurking in those bottles and decanters on the sideboard.
That morning, little Alice, the one petted darling of the house, was playing upon the lawn, with no other companion than her favorite doll, almost as large as Alice herself.
She had wandered about the grounds, the mother watching the golden head and thinking that sunshine itself was not brighter, until suddenly the child's attention was attracted by what was to her an altogether new sight. A young man was passing. Just in front of the house he staggered and would have fallen had it not been for the assistance of a companion a little less helpless than himself. I need not describe the scene. Unfortunately, to the most of us it is not an unusual sight. We have seen too often the unsteady and uncertain step of a drunkard, we have too often heard the silly laughter and listened to the imbecile chatter of those who have drowned their manhood in a glass of liquor.
But to Alice Granger, a child of five years, it was a new and strange sight and one which she could not comprehend. Her doll lay unheeded upon the ground while with an earnest, curious expression upon her face she watched the two travellers out of sight. Then she ran to the house.
"Mamma," she said, "there were two funny-acting men went past just now. They went on both sides of the street and did not act as if they knew how to walk. They were just as silly as could be."
"Yes, dear; I saw them."
"Mamma, what made them act so?" inquired the child.
Mrs. Granger was inclined to evade the question. She was sorry that her darling had witnessed the disgusting spectacle. She would have spared her the knowledge of this form of sin awhile longer, but it could not now be helped, and as Alice persisted she said at length,
"My dear child, those young men had been drinking too much wine."
"Too much wine! But, mamma, wine does not make folks act like that!"