Feliciana sentinel. [volume] (St. Francisville, La.) 1877-1892, 1892-01-23
HE MADE A MISTAKE.
Nobody Could Hold Hin, ysut His Friend
Had fun Trying.

Had fun Trying.
The problem of what given man
will do under the pressure OF given
quantity of Intoxicating liquor is al.
ways an interesting one to the students
of human nature. A few evenings ago
the usual number Of well-dressed gen.
tleman about town were in various
stages of dining at a famous chop house.
That is to say, some were at bread and
water and their favorite evening news
paper awaiting the corollation of the
waiter and the culinary depart
ment some were in the soup
and mustache struggle. some were
''discussing"-to use q plain word,
eating-the various chops aud steaks
not disconnected with potatoes and
malt served up at this popular resort,
and others were dallying with tobys Of
ale, and small bottles, and cigars,
and toothpicks, and mellow conversa-
ton. The portraits of stage celebrities
on the walls looked down upon the
gastronomical scene with stern wistful.
ness
Why actors and actresses long since
departed are thus compelled to coldly
furnish forth bachelor breakfasts, the
all day odorous chop and the midnight
rarebit, with their varied liquid para
phernalia, is one of those things
haven't found out. But they seem to
be necessary. Perhaps it is by way Of
stimulating the edigestion-perhaps it is
one of the penalties of having lived too
we'll on earth.
Anyhow, the usual array of the pro-
fession were doing business at the old
stand, without chop or drink. In
the midst OF this scene of the living and
the dead a gentleman suddenly arose
and. looking wildly around, shoutca:
No man in this place can hold mel"
II one of the actors who has been
dead a dozen years had suddenly leaped
down from the wall and offered to set
tie his molder.ng score at the bar, the
assembled gentlemen could scarcely
have been more aStOnished Half a
dozen chops seemed to have gone the
wrong way at once, and one man mad
vertently tossed off his ncighbors wine.
'I'll bet there isn't man in the
crowd who can hold me-" repeated the
gentleman defantly.
Nobody seemed to entertain the wish
to hold him. He was rather too large
for baby. lie stood firmly on his
pins. There was apparently no valid
reason why he should have been held.
On the contrary, IN almost yearning
wish appeared on every countenance
that he should not be held but be al
lowed to go, especially on the face of
the manager. That gentleman at once
stepped forward and intimated his de-
| sire, whereupoa the gentleman, for he
really seemed to be such, quietly sat
down and resumed his cigar and cafe
| noir.
bo oh $1 ~, bo
mellow conversation was taken UP
where it had been left off, and the por.
trait of dead pugilist on the wall
looked sour enough to curdle milk
punch. This serenity, however was
soon again dispelled by the ntric
individual rising in his place and again
shouting his defiance:
"Therc amt n man in the crowd who
can hold me!'
Whether it was the slip in grammar
or the rising disgust at this second dis
! turbance. the friend of the man who
couldn't be held got up and pulled the
man down into his seat rather perempt-
orily; so violently in fact that the chair
gave way, the friend fell on him. and
in falling both men became so tangled
up you couldn't tell which from t'other.
They rolled over and over. clawing
each other like wildcats, providentaliy
gravitating toward the door and finally
down the front steps. Nobody wanted
to hold either of them. Some minutes
afterward, when quiet had been re-
stored, n battered looking gentleman
with light overcoat ripped from stem
to stern and splashed with mud, ap-
peared in tho doorway and politely
said:
Gentlemen. l apologize. I made a
mistake"
Then he bowed himself out and the
chops began to chop again, and a
waiter picked up the picture of the
dead pugitist that had fallen from its
naiL-N. Y. IIera Id.