The Weston Democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1875-current, 1880-11-13
Weston, West Virginia, November 18, 1880.
The Rraksslnan's Story,

The Braksslnan's Story,
A rough-looking man? Yes,
perhaps l AM. We aint all Of us
responsible ior our outside husk,
no more than q horsc-chestnut or
u hazel-nut is. And the kind Of
life l have led can't be lived in
white kid gloves and dress coats.
I wasn't brought up with nnny
advantages, and I'm only brake
man OH the Rensselaer, and Santo-
ga Limo. Old Jones was telling
you about me, was he, sir? He'd
better hold his tongue. There's
many more profitable subjects Of
conversation than ]. am. But old
Jones means well enough, and if
he told you to ask me how that
white stripe of hair came in my
name, 1 ain't the man to go back
on him. Oh, you needn't beg my.
pardon sir.l l don't mind talking
about it now, though the time was
[ couldn't speak oft without IL
big lump coming in my throatl
We hadn't been married long.
Polly and me, when it happened.
Polly was a trim, bright.eycd slip
of a girl as ever you'd wish to see.
She was one Of the mattresses
in the Albany llncll-room; and
the very first timc I ever set eyes
on her made up my mind TO
make that girl my wife. So, when
they raised my wages :. took heart
and asked her if she'd halye them
with inc, with a wedding ring
thrown into the bargain.
ado you really mean it, Jnke?"
said she, looking me full in tie
face, with those dark, blue eyes Of
hers, that are like the sky ut night.
II do really mean it, Polly"
said I.
"Thcn," said she, putting both
her hands in mine, "l'll trust YOU.
I've no living relation to advise
with me, SO | can only take
council with my own heart"
So we were married. | rented
4 little one-story, house under the
hill Ion the heights that overlooked
the Hudson-a cozy place, with a
good-sized wood-pile at the rear,
for winter meant winter in these
parts, and the snow used 10 be
dritted9up! even. with our door:yaNl
fence, many and many acold gray
morning, And everything went
smooth until Polly begun 10 object
to my mates ut the White Black.
bird, and the Sunday evenings /
spent with the boys, after my train
was safely run on to the sidc-track
at the junction.
"Why, Polly, girl" said |,
"wherc's the harm? A man can't
live by himself, like an oyster in
IFS shell, and a social glass never
vet harmed any one.
no" says Polly, mot 4 social
glass, Jake, but the habit. And if
you would only put every five.cent
piece that you spend for liquor in.
10 little Bcrtic's tiny Swings bank"
"pshawT' said I. "I'm not 4
tIrunkard, and 1 never mean to be-
come one. And no one likes to be
preached TO BY his wife, Polly. Re-
member that, my girl, and you'll
save yourself deal Of trouble"
kissed her, and went away.
But that was the beginning of the
little, grave shadow that grew on
my pOlly's face, like Il creeping fog
over the hills, and that she has
never got rid of since.
It was 4 sore point between US
what the politicians call a vexed
question. l felt that Polly was
always watchihS me; ana aluht
choose to be put IN leadinG-'trthSS
by 4 woman. Sol shame to sily
it-I went to the White blnckblrtl
oitener than ever, and l didn't al,
ways count the glasses OF beer that
l drank; and once or twice, oil a
particularly cold night, let myself
be persuaded into drinking some
thing stronger than beer; and my
brain wasn't the kind that stand
liquor fire with impunlty,, and :,
we'll, / don't like to think Of a'I
these things now. Thank goodness
they're over and gone!
That afternoon, as | stood on the
I.