The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-09-22
Temperance Reading.
THE TERRIBLE RIDE OF PETER
M'BRLDE.

THE TERRIBLE RIDE OF PETER
M'BRLDE.
Have you heard of the ride of old Peter Nc
Bride,
OF that midsummer night full OF horrors for
him.
Of the fright that he had-how he thought
How they found him at morn bruised in
body and limb?
will tell you the tale, for it shows what may
come
To man when he foolishy NEEDLES with
rum.
A merry old topper was Peter Mcbride;
He was fond of his glass as a schoolboy of
jam,
And tipping to him was 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 a foe was that bottle to him!
1t shattered his nerves ana it REDEEMED his
nOSe
His round cheeks grew hollow, his eyesght
His form became feeble; the tracks of the
crows
Began to appear on his temples; yet more
He added each night to the rumseller's store.
What ,I2s price do men pay for the pleasures of
In manhood, in usefulness, wisdom and
wealth
Rum conquers, it seldom is crushed in the
strife,
1t ruins ambition, it dissipates health
Yet thousands are wasting and losing their
And millions unborn in the battle will fall.
One night to the tavern came Peter Mcbride;
He tied his thin steed to the sign-post near
| He entered the tap-room, he sat down beside
| The rickety bar with a wearisome sigh,
| For he felt what slave he had weakly be-
In the merciless, pitess bondage of rum
So he called for drink and he guzzled it
| To drown his dull care and to make him feel
gay.
He drank and he drank till the lamplight
Till the tavern turned round in mystical
Wayl
He drank till his stomach was tortured with
pain,
Till horrible phantoms distracted his BRAIN
But, see! from corner there cautiously
A 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 dismay,
The little red serpent has vanished away
Look lookl from the cracks in the ceiling
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 floor!
They climb up his limbs, and they Irvine on
| his wrists;
He drops his old bottle! He throws off his
coat,
| They creep on his body! He wiggles, he
| twists,
He struggles to tear their cold coils from
his throat.
| He stamps on the floor and he clutches the
air,
Then PUSHES in rage for his old chestnut
| mare!
But the boys of the village, who longed for a
row,
Loosed his neighing old beast from the sign.
| post and tied
In her place, with BEDFORD, big brinde
All saddled, all bridled. and ready to ride,
When rushed from the tavern with snakes in
| his track,
Old Peter, who pounced with yell on her
| back.
The cord snapped in twain, and away in af
| fright
With the stars overhead dimly lighting the
road,
Passed Peter Mcbride in a pitiful plight
In the tracks of; his steed toward his distant
| abode.
| The dogs tiercely barked, and the cocks loud
| ly crew,
AS the believing cow by the farm houses flew
The villagers leaped in alarm from their beds
They threw up their windows, in wonder
| they 4aZeu,
And peered through the darkness, with un.
| covered heads
Such row in that region had never been
| raised;
While swift as the wings of the wind DER the
tide
In terrible tempest rode Peter Mcbride!
He saw the strange horns of the beast that he
| strobe;
The four cioven hoofs of the fleet footed
With the horrible thought, twas the devil he
He saw its stiff tail, like snake on the
The air all around had a 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 tc
| bed:
They bled him, they fed him with camomile
| pills;
They plastered his chest and they poulticed
And when he recovered, he solemnly swore
To tipple 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 and sport of the boys of the
| town?
Some dragon may carry you Off in your pride
With snakes at your heels like old Peter Nc
| Bride.
Eugene j. Hail. in Chicago Inter Ocean.
|
RELATION OF LIQUOR TO CRIME