The anxiously looked for day arrived. The preparations were made. At night the ball was to come off. After dinner, Charles asked his father for money to bear the expenses of the evening. Mr. Duran gave him what he thought would be sufficient for the occasion. The amount did not satisfy him: more was asked. It was refused; and Charles, not having forgotten his early habits, immediately went into a fit of rage. More money he wanted, and more he would have. He went out, and arming himself with stones and blocks, soon commenced a regular assault upon the house. The weather-boards were battered, one window was smashed in, panes in the others were broken, and the fragments rattled on the floor and on the ground. The aged parents trembled for their safety; while the son, raving as a madman, seemed bent on their destruction. Stooping somewhat with age, and in great fear, Mr. Duran went to the door, with a bag in his hand, containing a quantity of specie:-- "Here, Charles," said the feeble old man, "come and get what money you want, and don't stone the house any more." Thus appeased, the demon became quiet. Charles helped himself to as much money as he wanted, and was ready for the ball in the evening. Alas, what degradation for a parent! and what persevering depravity in a son! [Illustration: CHARLES TAKING MONEY FOR THE BALL.] The evening came. Parties began to assemble. Arrangements had been made for a great ball. The saloon was tastefully decorated. The kitchen gave evidence that a sumptuous repast was in preparation. The bar was fully supplied with all kinds of sparkling liquors. As the new-comers arrived, they met a smiling host, an attentive and ready bar-tender, and obsequious waiters and servants.