ng similar material, his life's structure would be unsafe; it
would be momentarily in danger of falling. As Satan is ever waiting with
the needed supplies for a work of this kind, so he was ready to aid
little John. The card parties at which John and his father were often
present furnished John with much of his material.

The younger men among those who attended these gatherings, recognizing
in John material of the entertaining sort, began at once to educate him.
They taught him, not only to drink beer, but also to play cards and to
swear. To John beer did not at first have a pleasant taste; but as it
was when he was trying to learn to use tobacco, so it was now--the
promise that it would help him in becoming manly encouraged him to take
more; and as he drank, the appetite grew. Finally, he would sometimes
drink so much that he could not keep awake.

Usually on these occasions beer was served only as a prize to the
winners of the games. The lucky fellow alone was given a drink while
those who had lost were given only a smell of the bottle. One time when
John had won in a number of games and had been treated to as many drinks
from the bottle of beer, he became very sleepy. Going over to one corner
of the room, he crept up on a table and soon was apparently asleep.
It happened, however, that, although he was sleepy, he was not wholly
unconscious to what was going on; and suddenly he heard a plot that
seemed to him so cruel that he could scarcely believe his ears.

[Illustration: A Card-Party]

At the close of such gatherings, a chicken-roast was generally in order,
and the fowl used was usually taken from some hen-roost not far distant.
On this particular occasion when the party was about to break up, John
heard the roughest of the company ask:

"I say, boys, who's goin' fer the roast tonight? Some one ought to be
off fer it's nigh onter the midnight hour, and I, fer one's got a big
job ahead a me tomorrer."

"I'll go, Bill," someone answered; "but wha do ye say ter go?"

"Oh, it don't make no difference, so's it's not too fer away!" the other
answered, and added: "Whist, Tom, why can't we git John's turkeys?
They'd make fust-rate eatin' all right. He's too far gone to know
anything about it."

John was just about to call out that they must let his turkeys alone
when he remembered how hard it would be in the darkness to discover
their roosting-place, so he remained quiet. It was, however, with some
uneasiness tha