and combing, while I look out some of Jessie's clothes
for her. Take those rags she has on, and throw them on the dirt heap!"

The party in the kitchen now broke up. Uncle Morris, the boys, and Jessie,
went into the parlor, where they found Mr. Carlton, who had just returned
from the city. He approved of what Uncle Morris had done, but thought it
best to inquire, at once, for Madge's mother at the village tavern. As
there was yet an hour to spare before tea, he took Guy, and started in
pursuit of the heartless mother.

Where was she? After leaving Madge at the pump, she had gone to the
tavern, and purchased some gin. After drinking a large glass of the fiery
liquor, she put down the glass and the money, looking so ravenously at the
sparkling decanter, that the landlord feared she was going crazy. Reaching
her skinny fingers out towards the bottle, she said, in a screeching
voice: "Give me another glass!"

Hardly knowing what he was about, the landlord filled her glass a second
time. She swallowed its contents at a single gulp, and demanded more.
Alarmed at her manner the man refused. Then her anger awoke. She poured
forth a volley of strange and fearful words. The passers-by came in to see
what was the matter. To be rid of her tongue and to save the reputation of
his house, as he said, the landlord called in his stable-boys, and they
hurled her into the street.

There she drew upon herself the attention of Jem Townsend and the crew of
idle boys which usually accompanied him. They gathered round the unhappy
woman, as she sat on the edge of the curb-stone cursing the tavern-keeper,
and began to tease her.

"Fuddled, eh?" said Jem Townsend, laughing. Then he added, "What do you do
here, Lady Ginswiller? Rather a cold seat this for a lady, eh? Better walk
into old Bottlenose's best parlor, hadn't ye?"

Upon this the poor maudlin creature cursed louder than ever. The wicked
urchins laughed and hooted in turn, until she rose in a fit of passion and
pursued them.

The boys ran down the village street, pausing now and then to quicken her
rage by some biting words. And thus they led her at last to the vicinity
of a low grocery. Drawn by the scent of rum, like the vulture to its
quarry, she staggered into the grocery, laid down her last sixpence on the
bar, and muttered, "Give me a drink of rum."

It was given her. She drank the wretched stuff, and reeling to the
door-step, fell down insensibly drunk. What a spectacle of