He remained thoughtful and silent.

I asked him if he would like to hear any more, and as he offered no active opposition I went on.

(Maybe he was asleep; that idea did not occur to me at the time.) I told him of my grandmother's cat, who, after living a blameless life for upwards of eleven years, and bringing up a family of something like sixty-six, not counting those that died in infancy and the water-butt, took to drink in her old age, and was run over while in a state of intoxication (oh, the justice of it! ) by a brewer's dray.

I have read in temperance tracts that no dumb animal will touch a drop of alcoholic liquor.

My advice is, if you wish to keep them respectable, don't give them a chance to get at it.