The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-06-16
A DANGEROUS ANIMAL.

A Little Story with Little Moral in It.
Not many months ago was in the
cars-our Panhandle" cars, which at
once suggest comfort to the traveller
and was interesting myself in observing
my fellow-travelers. 1t is an old habit
of mine to seek entertainment of such
as may be so fortunate or unfortunate
as to travel with me. l keep wondering
who this is, and who that is, and what
they are here for.
Sometimes the answers inferred are
not very pleasant. For instance, on
that very road | saw a woman and four
children. They were very still, and [
wondered what was the matter. At a
little station they left the car, and there
stood little group of people to meet
them. In an instant all were weeping
wondered why. Our cars moved on,
and then the reason was revealed in the
box that had just been lifted from the
baggage-car, containing some ones cof-
fin. | said to myself: mo doubt it
contains the mortal remains of the hus-
band and the father"
But it was not of them or of him they
were mourning | meant to write. There
is class of men who ride on every
train at the West, of their own sort, en-
terprising, jolly, and free in speech
and manner. Among them are some of
the smartest fellows, and for them /
predict fortune. They encounter pc
culiar dangers from their rowing kind of
life, and not the smallest of these is
from tipping. 1t is very easy to
imagine that the water is bad. or to feel
clamp" or exposed to some disease, or
that one is tired, and that little whisky
will be good. notice also that many
young men 'make a mock of my fears.
They are merry as crickets as they tel
their drinking exploits. Many of then
carry well-filled flask. And thus they
get very familiar with that which has
destroyed multitudes.
Two of these men met in our car.
They were merry, and at last they went
back to the water-tank to get water to
mix with something else which they
drank. And when they returned to
their seat, either because l looked like
one of their sort-as l trust l do not
or because they noticed my interest in
their movements, one of them asked
me :" if [ would not take little? 1t is
real goodr'
| thanked the young man, for his
offer, although my sense of duty strug-
gled with my politeness, and l felt that
| ought rather to say "Get thee behind
me, Satan" But still l thanked him,
and added: "Let me pay you by telling
you story"
ct| +ol,A,,- n
railroad, even if it be in one of the ele-
giant Panhandle's, is always welcome,
and so they all listened as | began.
"The fact is, gentlemen" l said,
"Whilst thankful for your offer, am
afraid to accept it."
"Well, am not afraid said the
young man, as if a little hurt.
81 was not speaking of you, but OF
myself" I replied "The fact is, l am
afraid. But was to tell you a story,
not an original one, but one in which
that wonderful man, Father Hunt, the
Temperance lecturer, was an actor!
"You may not know that on that
subject it was not always wise for an
opposer to attack him. He was sure to
be little singed in the conflict.
Gone day Mr.. Hunt was making a
hard assault on rum drinking in a
neighborhood where Dutch distillel
named Billy Myers was a sort Of
king. This man was present and con-
tinually interrupting the speaker by
saying in loud voice: Mr.. Hunt,
money makes the mare go! At first ii
raised laugh, which Mr.. Hunt took in
good nature.
cat last he stopped for a personal
colloquy with his tormentor, and said
Look here, Mr.. Myers, you say money
makes the mare 90, and you mean that
l lecture on temperance for money
don't you?' yes, that is what | mean
Mr.. Hunt well, Mr.. Myers, you
carry on a dstillery, and you do it fol
money, don't you?' TO be sure do,
Mr.. Hunt; money makes the mare 90.
and so, Mr.. Myers, you say l have 8
mare, and you have mare, also; sup
pose we trot them out together and see
how they compare"
"The meeting was in grove, and the
sharp lecturer knew thing or two, and
so the old distiller found out, for Mr.
Hunt pointed to a young fellow who was
quite drunk, and was steadying himself
by tree, and said: Mr.. Myers. who is
that young fellowP The distiller start
ed as if stung, as he answered: That is
my son. Your son, is he, Mr.. Myers?
l guess he has been riding your mare,
and got thrown, hasn't hep
"And who is that young fellow sitting
so drunk on that log out there?' asked
the lecturer, pointing to second one.
1.-The distiller uttered an exclamation
of real pain, as he said: That is my
son, too. He is. is hep said Mr..