Sacramento daily record-union., 1890-09-08
TAcKLINe THE pREAcHER.
A Michigan Man Who Does Not Want
ANY Mora.
From the Detroit Free Press.


ANY More.
From the Detroit Free Press.1
A few days since gentleman was riding
along Possam Ridge highway, when, in
making a turn in the road, he came upon
an old man badly battered and bruised,
sitting on stump by the wayside. The
old man looked as though he had been run
through thrashing machine, or dragged
under a harrow all over a twenty-acre
field.
my friend" said the traveller, "what is
the trouble hereT
"Right smart the trouble" the native re-
piled, grufiy.
"Are you hurt?"
"Wal, if havin' leg broke, arm put out
o'jint, an head cracked, an bein' pounded
sore, is any sign O bein' hurt, then guess
I'm kinder injured"
"How did it happen?"
Happened easy 'nough."
did your team runaway, or something
like that ?"
mo, it didn't"
"How did it come about, then ?n
''It came about through want O sense on
my part
81 don't understand you"
9Don't, Ell? Wal, l don't wonder at it.
Reckon a Philadelphia lawyer couldn't
understand an old ijiot like me. Say,
mebby yer don't know it, but Pm the
biggest blamedest old fool yer ever laid yer
eyes on"
"Come. don't abuse yourself, but just tell
me how it happened, and what / can do for
you"
"The best thing yer can do fer me is ter
take club an pound my dinged fool head
off"
"Oh, pshaw, man, don't talk SO. There
is no use blaming yourself for this accident.
You couldn't prevent it."
"Couldn't? Reckon didn't bring it all
on myself eh? Reckon / didn't banker
arter it an split my shirt to git inter it?
No, reckon | amt to blame"
"What was it you got into?"
"What wuz ii? Why, the fight, o co'se.
Yer seem determined to find out all bout
this yere business, SO I'll jist tell We.
Reckon you know thar wuz a feller holdin
meetin' down ter the Coon Run meetin'-
house~
eyes, heard of it."
"Wal, it wuz him thet chawed me up"
''The preacher?"
"Azeckly. He's the identical trick that
done it."
"What caushed him to do such deed?'
"Wal, ther long an ther short O. ther
business is this: That thar feller has been
holdin' meetin's down thar to the meetin'
house fer nigh month, goin' it red hot
day an night, an everybody in these dig
gins got to goin', 'ceptin' me. hung of,
an sassed back when the preecher talked
to me, an last night he opened up on me
in his pra'rs an hilt me up to the Lord as
a monty onery, o'count old cuss."
"Did he mention your name~
"No, but he talked so everybody knowed
who he meant, an he went on scan'lous.
Said stole sheep an whipped the ole
'oman an SIGH"
"And you think he meant you?"
~ know he did, though, as l said, he
didn't mention no names"
swell, then, what?"
"Why, when hearn what he'd done, /
said I'd git even with him, an KNOWN he
wuz ter pass erlong here to-day, l came up
yere an laid in wait fer i'm"
"Yes.n
''Wal, arter waitin' bout hour, here
he come walkin' long singin' as happy as
d cOon, an jest Junpeu Uul IlSHt uclOIe
him, an begun to r'ar an cuss an keyort,
SWARM that I'd whip the hide otf'on him
in three shakes of lambs TAIL"
"Yes, and then what?"
oval, he tuck to ergyin' an talkin' soft
like, an kept on cussin, an arter while
he see talk wasn't goin' to count, SO he
flung off his coat an said:
IF yer bound to whup me, an nuthin'
else won't satisfy yer, jest pile on"
-"And you piled onY
"Yas, piled on. but l didn't whup i'm.
reckon piled off right smart sud-
dinter than piled on"
"Did he go tor your
''Wal, sorter. Bout the time / retched
fer him, it 'peared like the earth riz up
an whacked me squar across the back of
my head, slappin' the breath clear outen
me, and then fer few minutes it seemed
like cyclone had ahold Nv me, spinnin'
me round in the dust an whackin' me
agin the saplins till felt like thar wern't
nothin' left of me but few frazlins."
s'That preacher was fighter, was he"
''Shucks, he wuz reg'lar hericane in
full blast, he wuz. l thought I'd jist
swipe him off n the yearth the fust pass /
made at i'm, but, as / said at fust, mister,
Pm blamed old fool, an / won't never
tackle preacher agin. / wouldn't mind
fghtin' a possel O. Injins, but yer kin bet
I'll give preachers plenty of ROOM"