Burying the Wrong Man

by Judge Clark

“There’s no better fellow than Bob Lindsay,” was the universal voice of his neighbors,—“but for his one failing,” they felt in conscious bound to add.

His one failing, a proneness to indulge in strong drink, had been sufficient to counterbalance all Bob’s good qualities. Active, industrious and energetic, he was a man gifted to make his way in the world. Indeed, many times success seemed within his grasp. But just at the critical moment, and while his friends were hopefully saying, “If he’ll only hold out!”—a sudden relapse would come, and a week’s dissipation would squander the fruits of a month of sober industry.

It was a sore trial to Mary Lindsay to see her husband the slave of a loathsome appetite. Hers was a proud as well as a loving heart; and it stung her to note the look of suppressed triumph visible on the faces of certain friends, in opposition to whose counsels she had married handsome Bob Lindsay, in preference to rich, old and ugly Didymus Dodd.

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