DURING the whole of 1925, although my father was working, he did so with increasing difficulty; as he said himself, "I have to flog the old machine to keep it going." He relied more and more on the effects of alcohol. None of us ever saw him drink between meals, and I should be surprised if anyone told me he had ever taken a cocktail, but he was very fond of wine. He was so exhausted after his morning's work that he would drink a tumbler or more of sherry at lunch, and again at dinner. In vain Dr. Mackintosh warned him of the increasing damage he was doing to his kidneys. He could not believe that a stimulant to which he had been accustomed for so many years could be harmful. He wrote one or two letters to the papers on Prohibition, and was vastly pleased when he was quoted very generally in the Press as having said thai he had drunk a bottle of wine every clay for forty years and that he was none the worse for it.
When Nurse and I, acting under Dr. Mackintosh's orders, tried to cut down his allowance of alcohol, he was just like a fractious baby crying for its bottle. We watered the decanter of whisky, and that was successful for a short time, but when he found out the unfortunate maid came in for a totally unmerited scolding. Sometimes he became quite furious with us when we remonstrated with him; he got so cross that we were afraid it might bring on a heart-attack. But he was not a bad-tempered man, in spite of his many quarrels; nor was he noticeably quick- tempered.
His kidney trouble became so serious that Nurse Shipsey returned early in January 1926, to remain with us until