Another and another succeeded, until I was again far advanced in the
career of intemperance. The night of my wife's return I went to bed
intoxicated.
I will not detain the reader by the particulars of my everyday life at
this time; they may easily be imagined from what has already been
stated. My previous bitter experience, one would think, might have
operated as a warning; but none save the inebriate can tell the almost
resistless strength of the temptations which assail him. I did not,
however, make quite so deep a plunge as before. My tools I had given
into the hands of Mr. Gray, for whom I worked, receiving about five
dollars a week. My wages were paid me every night, for I was not to be
trusted with much money at a time, so certain was I to spend a great
portion of it in drink. As it was, I regularly got rid of one third of
what I daily received, for rum.
My wardrobe, as it had, indeed, nearly always been whilst I drank to
excess, was now exceedingly shabby, and it was with the greatest
difficulty that I could manage to procure the necessaries of life. My
wife became very ill. Oh! how miserable I was! Some of the women who
were in attendance on my wife told me to get two quarts of rum.
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