Waterbury evening Democrat., 1894-06-20

rimleSS sweep OF ocean, with clusters of
rich green live oaks and pecan trees ap-
parently growing i'll this blue sea of
clover, q picture unparalleled.
What could be more beautiful as we
wind along gray ridge than the blue
pillows of clover 20 miles away, melt
ing into the azured horizon, i'll whose
clear depths float here and there the
soft white plumes of the summer cloud?
1 was still wearing my Canadian
clothes when we reached San Antonio
and every few moments would have to
remove wet compress from my long
tapering neck to replace 1t with q tall
piccadilly collar. Oh, how hot it seemed
to me, for am not n tropical bird by
any means!
At night I lay enveloped in moon
light. only while toward morning ]
would add little of the delightful eli
mate.
Early in the night hound pup pour
ed forth his woes to the calm warm sky
or the bulbul paved the earth and
exercised his voice. Then the clock bell
in faraway mission, with cracked
notes which had become deprecated
hour. Then :; greaser full Of revenge
and pulquc came along the street, noisy
and quarrelsome. Everything united
to make me wakeful and nervous.
The hours dragged by till it was most
3 O'Clock. Then on the pulselessy air I
heard scream, such a shrek as one
only hears when life and death are in
the balance.
"Murder!'
"Murder!'
"Murder!'
He is stabbing me. Oh, will not
some one come! Oh, my wife and child!
For their sake, for Gods sake, have
mercyp'
had never heard such a cry in my
life. I jumped out of bed and ran to
tho window No ono was i'll sight /
am glad of it now. Then I opened my
door and stepped into the hall. Forty
other gentlemen wearing a look of hor-
ror only were in the hall.
Soon the manager and n porter rushed
past me and broke open n door where
the murder was going OH
They found n commercial man and
q vacant bottle side by side i'll the mid
die of the floor. Though the bottle was
empty, it had triumphant look. Kind
hands secured the man firmly by means
of the fire escape rope to the four cor
ners Of the bed and put a folded wet
sheet on top his high, intellectual fore
head. In the morning he was able to
be up and down stairs about five minutes
ahead of the bartender.
Whisky is a great foe to sleep. Just
one bottle of it kept over 100 people
awake that night and very likely the
following night also. One reason like
farm life on my overhanging farm in
the mountains at Arden, N. c., is that
am content to drink a gourd full of
branch water and go about my business
or draw draft from the base Of my
tall we'll at Buck Shoals and forget the
hot air Of the banquet room, where
bumper after bumper at the midnight
hour stimulates applause for dull after
dinner speakers to furnish tho guest of
the evening.
Dear reader, did you ever make
great hit in an after dinner speech and
afterward try it ON cool, methodical
audience who had paid 81 each for seats
and who had not dined unwisely, but
too we'll?
I have.
Take this advice, ye who have made
banquet hit at 1 o'clock a. m. Do
not expect cool headed audience who
paid for seats to give you thunders of
applause that you got after Is courses
Of good food washed down by whole
South Carolina dispensary of cordials-
IF you do, you will run up against the
largest avalanche of sod that you ever
saw.
There Is another disagreeable surprise
largely from the realms Of ignorance.
may speak freely of these things be-
cause I am now closing farewell sea-
son ON the road, trust.
There is one element Of your audi
ence that rides 80 or so miles expecting
10 see strange yet comic monstrosity
In q Humpty Dumpty costume do the
cancan and the split. 1t exi.ects you.
to combine the features Of Jefferson,
Florence AMI Goodwin with those of
Dan Rice, Alvin Joslin, Carmencita
De Wolf Hopper and Francis Wilson,
Sam Jones, Mary Anderson, Gus Will
liams, Dr. Parkhurst, John Kelley,
James Whitcomb Riley, Lillian Russell
and Oliver Wendell Holmes. They
come and hitch their teams ia front of
the courthouse, put mayonnaise dressing
ON their pie Mt the hotel and go home
sad and bitterly disappointed.
Captain jack Crawford, the poet
scout, has hit the nail SO squarely ON
the head that venture to insert his re-
marks hera'