There were a few little petitions he sent out every once in a while. "I
want to remain a man! I want to keep my nerve. I don't want to whine. I
don't want to get sorry for myself. For God's sake help me to be a good
fellow--a half way decent sort of chap!"
And he had not tried in vain. His success, as to exteriors, had been
good. Mrs. McCormick said it was indeed surprising how well one could get
along without one's sight.
But within himself he had not gone far. Ernestine knew something of
that--though he had tried his best with Ernestine, and Parkman knew, for
Parkman had a way of knowing everything.
And yet they did not know it all. The waking up in the night and knowing
it would not be any more light in the morning! Hearing the clock strike
four or five, and thinking that in a little while he would be getting up
and going to work, only to remember he would never be going to work in
that old way again! The waking in the morning feeling like his old self,
strength within him, his mind beseeching him to start in! No man had ever
suffered with the craving for strong drink as he suffered for the work
taken from him.
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