For nearly ten
years, so it was reported, he never went to bed sober. This may be an
exaggeration--it would be a singular report were it not--but it can be
relied upon as sufficiently truthful for all practical purposes.
Then there came a day when he did see a reason for not getting drunk. He
signed no pledge, he took no oath. He said, "I will never touch another
drop of drink," and for twenty-six years he kept his word.
At the end of that time a combination of circumstances occurred that made
life troublesome to him, so that he desired to be rid of it altogether.
He was a man accustomed, when he desired a thing within his reach, to
stretch out his hand and take it. He reviewed the case calmly, and
decided to commit suicide.
If the thing were to be done at all, it would be best, for reasons that
if set forth would make this a long story, that it should be done that
very night, and, if possible, before eleven o'clock, which was the
earliest hour a certain person could arrive from a certain place.
It was then four in the afternoon. He attended to some necessary
business, and wrote some necessary letters. This occupied him until
seven. He then called a cab and drove to a small hotel in the suburbs,
engaged a private room, and ordered up materials for the making of the
particular punch that had been the last beverage he had got drunk on, six-
and-twenty years ago.
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