Mickie hurried out and caught the old man just as he was making the swinging doors.
"Here, Father, Father, come out av that!" he cried, catching Dennie by that muchly pulled coat-tail.
"Oh, to h—— wit you!" says Dennie. "Go back to your mother!"
"But, Father, you promised the priest! You took a solemn vow not to touch liquor for a whole year."
"What av it?" says Dennie.
"Well, the year is not up," says Mickie.
"G'an!" says Dennie. "Go back to school! read your program! Look," and Dennie pointed to the program which he still clasped in his hand; "read that! 'Two years elapses between the second and third acts.'"
Leaving the dumbfounded Mickie there on the sidewalk, Dennie hurried into the saloon; but he did not hurry out. Meanwhile Mrs. O'Brion went home and Mickie waited at the door.
An hour later Dennie came out—endways. With a number nine boot just behind him. Mickie tenderly assisted his father to his feet and started him homeward. Dennie had now reached the crying stage; nobody loved him; he thought he should commit suicide; in the morning.
Now it so happened that on this night the Salvation Army were conducting an all-night session at their barracks. Dennie and Mickie had to pass these barracks on their way home. The lights and the music caught Dennie's wandering attention, and he insisted on going in. Mickie tried to tell him that it was no place for him, a good Catholic, but Dennie shook off his detaining hands and staggered into the hall, down the center aisle, tripped over an umbrella handle, and fell flat on his face right up against the platform. Mickie meanwhile stood back near the door horror-stricken.