y. He wanted to cry, as he
would have done ten years before, but that was out of the question--he
was twenty; so he repeated an oath that made him shiver and feel
penitent, then went deliberately into the wine shop. He bought two
flasks of cognac, and slipping one into each hip-pocket turned up Queen
Street to University Avenue.

Mrs. Greig was in the kitchen when Nelson reached the boarding-house.
He went quietly up the stairs to his room, which had been done up and
would not see the maid again that day, and shut himself in. Unscrewing
the top of one flask, he put the neck to his mouth and swallowed two
gulps. The room was warm, but he did not think to open the window. He
sat back in a wicker chair and concentrated his mind on the liquor.
How much would it take to make him drunk? how long would it take? He
looked for immediate results from the first two mouthfuls, and finding
none drank again. Feeling a slight nausea the second time he waited
several minutes, and a tingling sensation succeeded the nausea. Then
he gulped some more, and the flask was half gone. He settled back in
his chair and his eyes grew heavy. Afraid the effect might work off he
drank again, after which the room swam so that he had difficulty in
catching the bed. His mind was acutely alert to everything for quite a
while, although his limbs were incredibly heavy. But by and by he
seemed to see his soul retire behind a black drape--and came oblivion.

It was after-hours in the bank. The boys worked away as though nothing
had happened. It had been whispered that Nelson was fired, but each
clerk had something in his own experience which he considered just as
sensational as that. Far from philosophizing on the treatment accorded
Nelson, some of the boys made his misfortunes serve to emphasize the
reckless awfulness of their own careers, the uncertainty of which was a
source of pride and self-congratulation. There are bank-fools who take
delight in the very unsubstantiality of their occupation; instead of
treating their avocation with the seriousness one's life-work deserves,
they look upon it as a game or a joke. These fellows are greatly in
the minority, of course; but usually a city office harbors several of
the type. Two or three of them had their heads together around the
cash-book desk, where Marks was now reigning monarch.

"Shut up, will you," bawled the ex-C man, flushed with the worry of a
new post; "it's a wonder they wouldn