Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume] (Clarksburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1851-1861, 1856-02-22


Nobody'll call you go mlserly bore y
If nobody:s slandered you, here is our pen,
! Sign youreeIf ''Nobody" quick as you can.
n F. A. W. Fl.
THE PRACHER AND GAMBLER.
Putting the Saddle on the Wrong Horse.
Pesrons Of very antagnoistic portions oI
society are frequently into intimate
association with each other, as Debris
Data very justly observes, while travel,
| ing on the steamers of the southern and
western waters. Not long since num-
ber of gamblers and two or three clergy
men happened to be passengers on board
the General Pike steamer, bound on a
trip from Cincinnati to New Orleans.
The company Of the cabin, from whatey-
err cause. extra morality or otherwise.
did not seem inclined 10 participate in the
passtime of gaming. as is quite usual, on
a majority Of these river crafts.
Several days accordingly passed and
not symptom of a card or gambling had
been observed. At length gambler
seemingly an unsophisticated greenhorn
in the ways of fashionable or polite soci-
ETY., although wild, wreckIess, dare>de>
vii sorto hard customer of a back
woods man, began to grow weary Of the
tedium of the passage, and became i'm
patient to realize his travelling expenses.
by victimizing some one 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:
81 say stranger. dull music here
aboard Suppose we take a drink and
get up little life 'mongst us 90
Excuse mo, my friend, Isnever iu-
dulge in that way"
"O-o-h you don'tch Tee totaller.
p'raps? Well let's have a hand at cards.
then ?''
"There again I'm at fault. do not
know one card from another"
"By the ramping old sarpiut, that's
quare But come. my young harty, and
III show you all about EN-
"rd rather not, sir. if you please"
q Fire and birthstone Can't we get
up some deviItry or mother? I'm sick
ont pokin' round this ere way. Wonder
| If there ain't some old hoss' aboard that'll
give pneach.' That sly old coon over
there, looks like one Of 'em &pel-shop
critters. S'pose we AK him 10 gin us a
snrmint ? I'd like almis s',ty bad to hear
n parson snort, or listen to a reg'lar
j Fourth Of July Grafton by some reg g'lAr-
ringtailed roarer; by the living jingo, l
wolld p
"That gentleman over there, who looks
like a { sly coon,' as you say. is IL Meth
oIist preacher. and think it quite likely
he will feel disposed to accommodate you
with a sermon, If you'd like to have one" "
"In course would. You know him.
don't you p? Well, then. just git him to
gin the whole sugar on us blath-
ergasting blow out, will yer? III hole
his hat and take up the collection, dod
rot me, ii don't" -.... .....-.-s.r.
I'm speak with the clergyman, and
try to prevail on him to give us. a short
lecture for our edicAtion.''
He accordingly passed over to his
friend Of the white cravat, who sat in the
ladies saloon, conversing with some ladies,
and stated the wishes Of the gambler
Returning, however, he remarked that
the preacher was affected with a quinsy
soar throat, and felt unable to preach al
that time.
ooh, h-ll. got the quinsy! The d
lie las ? Well, I'm bound to have tri-
fle of sport, some how or 'nother-if ]
don't, 1 split all up into big chunks oi
ferce railing, will. But l say, my fine
Buckeye sapling, your not bashful. are
you? S'pose you try aud give us a
sprinklin' Of your own jaberaw. You
look kinder college larned, anyhow, my
young hickory nut, with the bark on -
"My good friend, should I attempt tc
preach, would eudeavor to make you
feel little uncomfortable in your boots.
and might offend you. sir.''
You would. Ell? Not as you knows
on. reckon. I'm not bull dog OF that
breed. SIR Devil a-bit on't-no sir-e>e,
old hoss. You are just the chap for my
money, you are Here git up on this
whiskey barrel, and gin us big streak ol
hell, fury and birthstone. Stir up these
old ironsides and7make regular quaking
among the dry bones-put in the tOma,
haw licks, and come the nigger camp
meetin' touch over them. will yer? This
here old revolutionary cock has got a
psalm book, knows. for seed him read
in something about title clear in it, a
bit ago. can sing myself like young
jackass in corn crib. if you'll only give
the lines out. By golly, I'm great on
sucking sugar eggs. anyhow. 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 wolves are
coming, with a big chunk Of thunder and
lightning, and tail billing on tearing
earthquake. By the gracious Moses ol
Mount Sinia, we'll have rambunclious
snort. shan,t we. nv old InlensE Gecero.