Alvin's mother had often pleaded with her boy that he was not his real
self--not his better self--while drinking. Something happened at a
basket-party in 1914 that caused the full meaning of his mother's
solicitude to come to him. He left, declaring he would never take
another drink, and his drinking and gambling days ended together.
Late in the afternoons in the fall months, when the squirrels are out
[so the story runs in the valley, but without confirmation from the
Sergeant], Alvin would be seen leaving home with his gun. He would cut
across the fields to the west and pass along the outskirts of the farm
of Squire F. A. Williams. Those who saw him wondered why he should take
this long course to the woods, while on the mountain above his home the
oak and beech masts were plentiful and other hunters were going there
for the squirrels.
About this same time, the wife of Squire Williams noted with pleasure
that Gracie, her youngest daughter--a girl of sixteen with golden hair
and eyes that mirror the blue of the sky--went willingly to the woodlots
for the cows. When she returned with them she was singing, and this,
too, pleased Mrs. Williams.
The road from Squire Williams' home to the church passes the York home;
and, after the service, as far as his gate, Alvin would often walk with
them.
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