Benno and Some of the Push by Edward Dyson

HENRY INMAN had already drunk more beer than was good for him when he drifted into the Dago's little, dark, dirty smoke-house of a wine shop in the Black Slum, a blind alley backing a jumble of warehouses and Sin Fat's odoriferous banana market.

But if Henry took a drop too much he had always the melancholy satisfaction of knowing that he was driven to it. People, Fate, circumstances and events combined with malicious diligence to drive Henry to drink. To begin with he was at the pitiful necessity of having to earn his own living by the sweat of his brow when the weather was sultry, and this, to a young man of his temperament, was sufficient justification for a little indulgence. Then there were the sisters and mother at home, who nagged at him to mend his manners and customs and to contribute more liberally towards the household expenses; and they introduced Brother Dripstone Meekin, from No. 3 Blue Tent of the Fighting Rechabites, to point out the error of his ways, from two to four on Sundays, and endeavour to win him to temperance.