172. THE DRUNKEN HUSBAND. A certain woman had a drunken husband, whom when she had endeavoured to reclaim several ways to no purpose, she tried this stratagem. When he was brought home one night, dead drunk, as it seems he frequently used to be, she ordered him to be carried to a burial-place, and there laid in a vault, as if he had been dead indeed. Thus she left him and went away, till she thought he might be come to himself, and grown sober again.
When she returned and knocked at the door of the vault, the man cried out, “Who's there?”
“I am the person,” says she, in a dismal tone, “that waits upon the dead folks, and I am come to bring you some victuals.”
“Ah! Good waiter,” says he, “let the victuals alone, and bring me a little drink, I beseech thee.”
The woman, hearing this, fell a tearing her hair and beating her breast in a woful manner. “Unhappy wretch that I am,” says she, “this was the only way that I could think of to reform the beastly sot; but instead of gaining my point, I am only convinced that this drunkenness is an incurable habit, which he intends to carry with him into the other world.” [more info]
When she returned and knocked at the door of the vault, the man cried out, “Who's there?”
“I am the person,” says she, in a dismal tone, “that waits upon the dead folks, and I am come to bring you some victuals.”
“Ah! Good waiter,” says he, “let the victuals alone, and bring me a little drink, I beseech thee.”
The woman, hearing this, fell a tearing her hair and beating her breast in a woful manner. “Unhappy wretch that I am,” says she, “this was the only way that I could think of to reform the beastly sot; but instead of gaining my point, I am only convinced that this drunkenness is an incurable habit, which he intends to carry with him into the other world.” [more info]
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