Shortly after I bought the farm Lars
was so unfortunate as to lose his good wife, and he and the boys were
left forlorn. A relative came and gave them such care as she could, but
the mother and wife was missed beyond remedy. In his depression Lars
took to drink, and things began to go wrong in the stable. He was not
often drunk, but he was much of the time under the influence of alcohol,
and consequently not reliable. I had done my best for the poor fellow,
and he took my lectures and chidings in the way they were intended, and,
indeed, he tried hard to break loose from the one bad habit, but with no
good results. His evil friends had such strong hold on him that they
could and would lead him astray whenever there was opportunity. Polly
and I had many talks about this matter. She was growing timid under his
driving, and yet she was attached to him for long and faithful service.
"Let's chance it," she said. "If we get him away from these people who
lead him astray, he may brace up and become a man again."
"But what about the boys, Polly?" said I.
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