“Shure, I brought money home,” said Father Slessor.  “All I did wash buy my friendsh a few drinksh.”

Mother Slessor’s face brightened.  At least they would be able to buy food.  Her husband reached his hand into one pocket and brought it out empty.  Then into another pocket and again brought it out empty.  Finally trying several other pockets, he held out his hand with a small coin in it.

“Shee, there ya’ are, I brought money home.  There’sh a thrippence for ye.”

“Oh, Robert!” said Mother Slessor in dismay as the tears filled her eyes.  “Oh, Robert!”

Then because she was used to these things, Mother Slessor heaved a sigh and said quietly, “Come and eat supper, Robert.”

The father staggered over to the table where Mrs. Slessor had placed the plate of food which the children had saved out of their own small helpings, that he might have something to eat.

“Who wants shupper?” said Father Slessor, and he threw the precious food into the fire.  He staggered to his bed and fell into drunken sleep.  With a deep sigh Mother Slessor put out the light and she, too, retired for the night.  Early the next morning she was up, preparing breakfast.  Carefully she scraped every bit of oatmeal out of the container and boiled it for breakfast.

“Come, children, it’s time to get up.  Sunday school this morning,” called Mrs. Slessor.  Up jumped the six little Slessors.  The older ones helped the smaller ones get dressed.  When they had eaten the little oatmeal that Mrs. Slessor had for breakfast, they lined up for inspection.

“John,” declared Mrs. Slessor, “you did not wash behind your ears.  Go with Mary and let her scrub the dirt away.  Now I’ll put a bit of perfume on your hankies, and here’s a peppermint for each of you.  There, off we go to Sunday school and church.”

Father Slessor snored in his drunken sleep, while the family went off to hear God’s Word and to sing His praises.  When they returned, Father Slessor was awake.  He was sitting on the side of the bed and holding his head.  He had “morning after” sickness.

“Come, Robert,” said Mrs. Slessor, “and sit up to the table.  Good Elder McDougal has given us a bit of meat and some bread, so we can eat this day.”

Father Slessor groaned, but sat up to the table and ate dinner with his family.  It wasn’t much of a dinner.  It would have been even less were it not for the kindness and charity of friends, because Father Slessor had spent all their money for drink.

After dinner the children did the dishes and ran out to play.  When they were alone, Father Slessor hung his head and said,

“Oh, my dear, what can I say?  I am so ashamed.  I did so want to bring my wages home that we might have food for the children.  And well—­before I knew it, my wages were spent.”

“Robert,” said Mrs. Slessor, “you have said again and again that ’tis your friends who lead you astray.  Would it not be well to move away to some other town where you can find new friends who will not drink and who will not tempt you to drink?”