The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1879-08-28

MUSES.. Oluh ulc, Oh WAe1 We ANoio VI
Moses a clappin' down the tables o.
stone, an pitchin' inter the Egyptian
Teller, an all that-ef don'tt think Par
son was blamed sight meeker N Moses.
An sez he, right outer the Gospil,
stranger, "But whosoever shall smite
thee on the right cheek, turn to him the
other Also" Blamed if he didn't.
Well, the fellers they hollered out
"shame!" an Spunky Sam didn't dare
to hit him agin; so he stalked off a-blus-
TERM and a-bullyin', an Parson jes'
SEE, "Don't, 1 beg of ye." That thar
remark, so perlite, was addressed to
me, stranger. Ye see, l want a goin'
ter hev it so, an was lightin' off my
perch. I'd been a Within a stick out
er the tavern gate.post, an l seed it all
from fus' to las; an knowed Parson
was right, an he'd a right, too, to ad
wise man when he see him destroy
in hisself an starvin' his family. So
1 never minded Parsons perlite request,
but jest lit off that post, an follered Sam
up the road piece; an, stranger, eff
ever lef' any thin ondone that begun,
it wasn't the wallopin' l bestowed ON
Spunky Sam, free gratis, on account o.
the little Parsons sm2cked jaw tibet
thar day.
Give you my hand ont? Sartain, sar-
tain. / see you amt noways so pious as
Parson; an jedge you've been blam-
ed sight luckier, moreover. Gurus
now! A body'd think that vartue m
all SIGH orter meet with tip-top luck.
Bless your soul, stranger, its jes the
contrary way. Suthin n other bout
the hull thing 1 never could onstand.
Whether it's the piety tibet hoo, doohs
the luck, r the luck that goes dead
bang agin the piety, l never could
rightly make out. Depends on what
I'm pleased to call luck? Well, stran-
ger, sink me, eff don't be pleased to
call luck luck. call it ies what the lit
tie Parson never got no sort o. holt of.
Never, 'cept the one kind: Hard luck
hard luck. Yes; thet was what the lit
tie Parson run agin every pop.
Bout tibet hapgin' businessP Oh,
ay! Well, twas count of Toney Law
renee jinin' of the meetin' an givin'
up the tavern bar. Ye see the Parson
was amazin' set agin. liquor, an preach
agin it, an preach agin it, he did, till,
sink me, stranger, eff his preachin'
didn't lay holt of Toney to that ex-
tent tibet he turned squar' round on
the ole bar, an heaved the O-be-joyful
out inter the road, an guy up the hull
thing, hard cider m all. Well, stran-
ger, tibet was rough on the fellers tibet
he'd patternized the ole bar steddy by
jerks ever sense twas fust sot up, an
I'm free to say 'taint no greet wonder
they was riled. But they orter ha'
took their spite out outer Toney hisself,
seq I then, an SEE | yit. But
no! The Parson sot him up to it, they
said. Toney'd never in creation a
thunk all that ious swindle out hisself
Not another settlement short o. thirty
good mile, ye see, an, in consequence,
not drap o. the O-be- joyful to be got
short O. tibet journey. So they held
that shettin' up the deestrick bar was a
'fraudin' on 'em outen their rights, in q
manner.
amt a 'sputin' the sentiment, stran-
ger. low it comes rough on man
, tibet hez been used ter victim o. his
whistle liar as shutdown every day to
, be shet off sudden as stop cock. An
faint in natur' not to froth some wher'
, thar's so much rilin'; but as / said be
fore they orter o. took it outen o. To-
/ ney hisself. He wouldn't turned pious
an jined meetin' eff he hedn't wanted
to, an nobody eouldn made him hist
out all thet good liquor eli he hedn't a
sot his mind to do it. But it was jest
/ the little Parsons hard luck. Onter
him they pitched, in the dead O. night,
and drug him out o. bed and down inter
Bloody Bones Holler, an swore they'd
choke him till he'd promise to injuce
i Toney ter set up his bar agin.
Well, they hove the moose 'roun' his
neck, an slung the rope over the limb,
J an five r six on ''em gathered the tothe1
end on It, and thar they he'd him. Guv
him five minutes fer ter say his pra'rs
Lor! stranger, eff l do say it, as was
never perfesser o. piety, the little Par.
son didn't need them five minutes nc
: more m he needed five year. Eff ever
man seed his title clar ter mansions
in the skies, the Parson seed his'n. But
he said pra'r. Not fer hisself-jes
i prayed fer them rantankerous, owda.
, cious critters Juggling at the tother end
: o. the rope. Axed the Lord never tel
, mind ther ig'nance an delusion-devil
ment an cussidness was what it was
, stranger, as you, bein' not so pious az
: Parson, in consequence amt so blind a:
not to see-but ter bless them every one
| called every las one on 'em by name
: an axed the good Lord ter bless ZEN
/ with salvation in this life an eterna
: glory in the worl' ter come. Jes think
o. it, stranger! An tibet thar rope
acrost the hickory limb, an six mer
afoul of 'tother end jes waitin' fer the
"Amen " ter string him up often the
: ground!
What kind of raskills did you say
Precisely. Your language is not 1es
, sech as Parson would ha' chose, most
: likely, but I low faint none too strong
Did they swing him up, arter all? They
| did. stranger. They did. Clicked hin
till he was as black as your hat. They
J wouldn't ha' done it, stranger; NEAR
, cusses as they was, they wouldn' ha' done
/ it eff it hadn't been for Sandy Jake's
, tanglefoot whisky, which he'd beer
all the way ter the mex settlement tel
git; an it wer' as rank pizen as ever "