 | CHAPTER III. AND LAST. Condensed novels and other papers |  |
3. CHAPTER III. AND LAST.
“What! more bread?” said John Jenkins, gruffly.
“You're always asking for money for bread. D—nation!
Do you want to ruin me by your extravagance?”
and as he uttered these words he drew from
his pocket a bottle of whisky, a pipe and a paper of
tobacco. Emptying the first at a draught, he threw
the empty bottle at the head of his eldest boy, a youth
of twelve summers. The missile struck the child
Mrs. Jenkins, whom the reader will hardly recogas
the once gay and beautiful Mary Jones, raised the
dead body of her son in her arms, and, carefully
placing the unfortunate youth beside the pump in
the back-yard, returned with saddened step to the
house. At another time, and in brighter days, she
might have wept at the occurrence. She was past
tears now.
“Father, your conduct is reprehensible!” said little
Harrison Jenkins, the youngest boy. “Where
do you expect to go when you die?”
“Ah!” said John Jenkins, fiercely; “this comes
of giving children a liberal education; this is the result
of Sabbath schools. Down, viper!”
A tumbler thrown from the same parental fist laid
out the youthful Harrison cold. The four other children
had, in the meantime, gathered around the table
with anxious expectancy. With a chuckle, the now
changed and brutal John Jenkins produced four
pipes, and, filling them with tobacco, handed one
to each of his offspring and bade them smoke.
“It's better than bread!” laughed the wretch hoarsely.
Mary Jenkins, though of a patient nature, felt it
her duty now to speak. “I have borne much,
John Jenkins,” she said. “But I prefer that the
children should not smoke. It is an unclean habit,
and soils their clothes. I ask this as a special
favor!
John Jenkins hesitated—the pangs of remorse began
to seize him.
“Promise me this, John!” urged Mary upon
her knees.
“I promise!” reluctantly answered John.
“And you will put the money in a savings
bank?”
“I will,” repeated her husband; “and I'll give
up smoking, too.”
“Tis well, John Jenkins!” said Judge Boompointer,
appearing suddenly from behind the door, where
he had been concealed during this interview. “Nobly
said! my man. Cheer up! I will see that the
children are decently buried.” The husband and
wife fell into each other's arms. And Judge Boompointer,
gazing upon the affecting spectacle, burst
into tears.
From that day John Jenkins was an altered
man.
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