Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1854-12-14
EVENING STAR.
THE PREACHER AND TIE GaMBLrR.
or, Putting the Saddle on the Wrong Horse


W. futting the Saddle on the Wrong Horse
BY HARRY NUTMEG.
Persons of very antagonistic portions
OF society are frequently Y thrown into ;.l
innate association with each other as
"Debris Data" very Justly observes
while travelling on the steamers of ths
southern and western waters. Not long
since number of gamblers and two or
three clergymen happened to be passen.
gers on board the General Pike steamer
bound on a trip from Cincinnati to New
Orleans: The company of the cabin,
from whatever cause, extra morality or
otherwise, did not seem inclined to psr.
ticipate in the pastime of gaming, as is
quite usual on a majority Of these river
craft.
Several days accordingly passed and
not a symptom of card or gambling
had been observed. At length a gambler
seemingly an unsophisticated green.
horn in the ways Of fashionable or polite
society, although a wild, reckless, dare
devil sort of hard customer of back.
woodsman, began to grow weary of the
tedium of the passage, and became i'm.
patient to realize his travelling expenses,
by victimizing some of the verdant"
ones of the motley crowd.
Tapping one of the preachers alluded
to on the back, IN familiar sort of a way,
he thus accosted him:
"I say, stranger, dull music here
aboard. Suppose we take drink, and
get up little life 'mongst us?"
Excuse me, my friend, I never in.
dulge in that way"
"O-o-h !! you don t, eh? Tee-totaller,
'p'raps! Well, let's have a hand at
cards, then"
"There again I'm at fault. 1 do not
know one card from another"
By the ramping old sarpint, that's
quare! But come, my young hearty,
and I'll show you all about 'em.''
'I'd rather not, sir, if you please"
"Fire and brimstone. Can't we get
up some deviltry or mother I'm sick
ont. pokin' round this ere way. Won
der if there aint some "old hoss" aboard
thatll give preach That sly old
coon over there looks like one on 'em
gospel-shop critters. S'pose we Ak him
to gin us sarmint! I'd like almighty
bad to hear parson snort, or listen to q
reg1ar Fourth of July grafton by some
reg1ar ring-tailed roarer; by the living
jingo, / would ~
THAT gentleman over there, who
looks like sly coon, as you say, is a
Methodist preacher, and [ think it quite
likely he will feel disposed to accomno-
date you with sermon, if you'd like to
hear one."
In course l would. You know him,
don't you! Well, then, just git him to
gin the whole sugar. billing on us blath-
ergasting blowout, will yer? I'll hold
his hat and take up the collection, dod
rot me if don't"
"Ill speak with the clergyman, and
try and prevail on him to give us short
lecture for our edification."
He accordingly passed over to his
friend of the white cravat, who sat in the
ladies' saloon, conversing with some la.
dies, and stated the wishes the gambler.
Returning, however, he remarked that
the preacher was affected with q auin sy
sore throat, and felt unable to preach at
that time.
"Oh, h--ll. got the quinsy The
ID he has Well, I'm bound to have
a trile of sport somehow or 'nother-ij
l don't Ill split all up into big chunks OF
fence railing, will. But say, my fine
Buckeye sapling, you're not bashful, are
you! S pose you try and give us q
sprinklin' of your own jabberiaw. You
look kinder college larned, any how, my
young hickory nut, with the bark On ~ =
"My good friend, should attempt to
preach, [ would endeavor to make YOU
feel little uncomfortable in your boots,
and might offend your, SIR
You would, eh7 Not as you knows
on, l reckon. I'm not bulldog of that
breed, sir. Devil a bit on't-no Stree,
old boss. You are just the chap for nv
money, you are. Here; get up on this
whisky barrel, and gin us big streak OF
hell furious birthstone. Stir up these old
ironsides; make reg'lar quaking mong
the dry bones; put in the tommy -hawk <
licks, and come the nigger camp-meetin
touch over m, will yer! This here old
revolutionary cock has got psalm book,
l knows, for I seed him reading some
thing about title clear in it, spell
ago. can sing myselflike a young jack
ass in corn crib, if you'll only give the
lines out. By, golly, I'm great on suck.
ing sugar eggs, any how. And mind
you, neighbor, make an almighty scream.
ing prayer. Blow hard, and strike out
your wind as loud as you can, and make
'em believe pack of hungry young pra.
rie wolves are coming, with big chunk
of thunder and lightning, and tall bile.
ing of tearing earthquake. By the
gracious Moses on Mount Sinai, well
have rambunctious sport, shan't we, my
old julius Cecero-C Cornelius Grippa-J OK
Smith, the -Mormon-Robin Hood, and al
them fellerS chaWed up into one bip tn