130 A DISASTER. 



Everything went on well for some 

 little time, and a good trade had already 

 been established, when one day I was 

 down in the cellar superintending 

 or, rather, in company with the man, 

 for I could only look on the bottling 

 off a pipe of port. The cask had been 

 drawn off, the bottles arranged in regular 

 order ready for corking, when suddenly, 

 without the smallest notice, I fell crash 

 among the bottles, breaking and destroy- 

 ing a considerable number, and lacerating 

 my hands and face awfully with the 

 fragments, till the floor of the cellar 

 was absolutely flooded with the generous 

 liquor, not unmixed with some few drops 

 of what was more precious to me, and 

 the loss of which added not a little to 

 my already weakened state and now 

 woeful appearance. 



On the arrival from the country of 

 my father, who was speedily made ac- 

 quainted with what had occurred, the 



