Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1874-03-28
Dickens and the WOmcn's Crusade.

The following story by Dickens will
be read with satisfaction, we hope, both
by those who favor and those who Or
pose the new crusade against intem
perance:
Once upon q m, as Mr. Dickens re
latcs in his " Tale Of Two Cities, " there
lived in England a "resurrectionist, +"
that is to soy, a body-snatcher, by the
name Of Jerry Cruncher, in whose house
the scene Of our tale opens, iustas the
hero awakens after a night spent at his
favorite occupati n.
Mr.. Cruncher reposed under a patch
work cyunterpane, like a harlequin al
home. At first he slept heavily, but
by degrees began to roll and surge il
bed, until he alose above the surface.
with his spjky hair looking as if il
must tear the sheet to ribbons. At
which juncture he exclaimed, in a voice
Of dire evaporation
"Bust me, if she amt at it again!"
A woman of orderly and industrious
appearance rose from her knees in cor
ner with sufficient haste and trepidation
to show that she was the person re-
ferred to.
"What" said Mr.. Cruncher, looking
out Of bed for boot. You're at il
agin, are you?"
After hsiling the morn with this sec
ona salutation, lie threw boot at the
woman as a third.
" What, said Mr.. Cruncher, varying
his apostrophe after missing his mark,
" What are you up to, Aggerawayter?"
" | was only saying my PRAYERS"
" Saying yonr prayers ! You are a
nice woman What do you mean by
looping yourself down and praying
agin me?'
" | was not praying against you; ]
was praying for you"
" You wer'nt. And if you were, !
won't be took the liberty with. Here
Your mothers a nic woman, Jerry, 60
ing praying agin your fathers prs.
perity. You've got dunful mother,
You have, my son. You've got a reli-
gious mother, you have, my boy going
and Hopping herself down, and pray
ing that the bread and butter may be
out of the mouth of her only
child !"
Master Cruncher (who was in his
shirt took this very i'll, and, tuning to
his mother, strongly deprecated any
praying away of his personal board.
And what do You suppose, ynu con
ceitcd female, " said Mr.. Cruncher, with |
inconsistency, "that the
worth of your prayers may be? Name |
the price that you put your prayers at. "
They only came from the heart, !
Jerry. They are worth no more than
that "
"Worth no more than that?" re.
peated Mr.. Cruucher. "Tbey amt
worth much then. Whether or no, !
won't be prayed aein, l tell you. I |
for your snelklpg. If you |
must 60 Topping yourself down, flop in
favor OF your husband and child, and .
not in opposition TO EN-. If had any
but an unnatural mother, l might have
made some money asst week, instead Of
being counterprayed aud counterminad
and being religiously circumwonledi into
the worst of luck. "Bu.u-st," said
Mr.. Cruucher, who had been all this
line putting on his clothes, "if amt,
what with piety and one bIowed thing
and another, been choused this last
week into as bad luck as ever q poor
leyil of an honest tralesman met with.
Young Jerry, dress yourself, my boy,
md while clean my boots keep an eye
IN your mother now and then, and if
rou see any signs of anymore Hopping,
i've me a call. For l tell you, here he
addressed his wife once more, II won't
De gone agin in this manner r.