Deeply Affronted By
The Captain's Foolish Conduct, He Now Took A Malignant Pleasure In
Watching His Arrogant Neighbour's Progress To Ruin.
The year after the sale of his commission, Captain N - - found
himself considerably in debt, "Never mind, Ella," he said to his
anxious wife; "the crops will pay all."
The crops were a failure that year. Creditors pressed hard; the
captain had no money to pay his workmen, and he would not work
himself. Disgusted with his location, but unable to change it for
a better; without friends in his own class (for he was the only
gentleman then resident in the new township), to relieve the
monotony of his existence with their society, or to afford him
advice or assistance in his difficulties, the fatal whiskey-bottle
became his refuge from gloomy thoughts.
His wife, an amiable and devoted creature, well-born, well-educated,
and deserving of a better lot, did all in her power to wean him from
the growing vice. But, alas! the pleadings of an angel, in such
circumstances, would have had little effect upon the mind of such a
man. He loved her as well as he could love anything, and he fancied
that he loved his children, while he was daily reducing them, by his
favourite vice, to beggary.
For awhile, he confined his excesses to his own fireside, but this
was only for as long a period as the sale of his stock and land
would supply him with the means of criminal indulgence.
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