Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1883-08-22
TERRIBLE RIDE OF PETER M'BRIDE.
BY EUGENE ]. HALL.


Have you heard of the ride of old Peter Mcbride,
OF that midsummer night full of horrors for him.
Of the fright that he had-how he thought that he
died
How they found him at morn bruised in body and
limb
viii tell you the tale, for it shows what may come
To man when lie foolishly NEEDLES with rum.
merry old topper was Peter Mcbride;
he was fond of his glass as schoolboy OF jam,
And tipping to him matter OF pride.
He rode every night for his regular dram
To the village hotel on his old chestnut mare
He loved the black bottle that greeted him there.
But O. what foe was that bottle to him
1t shattered his nerves and it Redeemed his nose
His round cheeks grew hollow, his eyesight grew
dim
His form became feeble; the tracks of the crows
Be- IAN to appear on his temples; yet more,
He added each night to the rumseller's store.
What price do men pay for the pleasures of life,
In manhood, in usefulness, wisdom, and wealth :?
Rum conquers it seldom is crushed in the strife,
1t ruins ambition, it dissipates health
Yet thousands wasting and losing their all,
And millions unborn in the battle will tall.
one night to the tavern came Peter Mcbride,
He uied his thin steed to the sign-post near by;
He entered the tap-room, he sat down beside
The rickety bar with wearisome sigh,
For he felt what slave he had weakly become -
In the merciless, pitiless bondage of rum.
So he called for drink and guzzled it down,
To drown his dull care and to made him feel gay.
He drank and he drank till the lamphght looked
Til the tavern turned round in mystical way
He drank till his stomach tortured with pain,
Till horrible phantoms distracted his brain.
But see from corner there cautiously peeps
little red serpent; how happened it there?
Its eyes CLEAN like diamonds it wrigges it creeps,
1t coils itself quietly under his chair
He leaps from his seat with howl of d1smay,
The little red serpent has vanished away.
Look! look from the cracks in the ceiling and
wall.
From the barrels and kegs, from the bottles and
jugs,
How the snakes, how the worms, and the green
lizards crawl!
How they twist, how they squirm in the glasses
and mugs,
How they creep DER the counter, and in at the
door:
How they wriggle and writhe as they fall on the
They climb Up his limbs and they Irvine on his
He drops his old bottle! He throws off his coat
They creep on his body! h wiggles, he twists,
He struggles to tear their cold coils from his
He stamps on the floor and he clutches the air,
Then rushes in rage for his old chestnut mare
But the boys of the village, who Ionged for row,
Loosed his neighing old beast from the sign-post
and tied
In her place, with BEDFORD, big brindle COW,
All saddled, all bridled, and ready to ride,
When rushed from the tavern, with snakes in his
track,
Old Peter, who bounced with yell on her back
The cord snapped in twain, and away in alright,
With the stars overhead dimly lighting the road,
Passed Peter Mcbride in q pitifui plight
In the tracks OF his steed towards his distant
abode.
The dogs iercely barked and the cocks loudly crew
As the believing COW by the farm houses few.
The villagers Ieared in alarm from their BEDS
They threw up their windows, in wonder they
gaZed,
And peered through the darkness, with uncovered
heads; =
Such row inNhst region had never been raised.
In terrible tempest, rode Peter Mcbride
he saw the segange horns OF the beast that he
strobe
The four cloven hoofs o. the heet-footed thing,
With the horrible thought, twas the devil he rode
BE saw its stiff tail, like snake on the wing
The air all around had sulphurous smell
He lost his firm grip on the saddle and fell.
Friends found him and carried him over the hills
To his desOlate home, where they put him to bed
They bled him. they fed him with chamomiIe pills
They plastered his chest and they poulticed his
head,
And, when he recovered, he solemnIy swore
To tpple and toy with the devil no more
Are you wasting the years of your manhood away,
Is the demon of drunkenness dragging you down,
Are you rushing and hasting TO early decay,
The byword aid sport Of the boys Of the town ?
Some dragon may carry you off in your pride
With snakes at yonr heels like old Peter Mcbride
Chicago Inter Ocean.