My Mother's Gold Ring

6 MY mother's misery. I well recollect the first glass of ardent spirit, that my husband ever drank. He had been at the grocery to purchase a little tea and sugar for the family; there were three cents coming to him in change; and, unluckily, the Deacon, who keeps the shop, had nothing but silver in the till; and, as it was a sharp, frosty morning, he persuaded my good man to take his money’s worth of rum, for it was just the price of a glass. He came home in wonderful spirits, and told me he meant to have me and the children better dressed, and, as neighbor Barton talked of selling his horse and chaise, he thought of buying them both; and, when I said to him, “ George, we are dressed as well as we can afford, and I hope you will not think of a horse and chaise, till we have paid off the Squire’s mortgage,” he gave me a harsh look and a bitter word. I never shall forget that day, for they wrere the first he ever gave me in his life. When he saw me shedding tears, and holding my apron to my face, he said he was sorry, and came to kiss me, and I dis­

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