The Jersey City news. (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1889-1906, 1899-01-21

to defeat the granting OF my license Dy
the county commissioners they. blow my
saloon, stock, good will and fixtures into
the next township. But I'll fool EN- yet.
I'll baild a saloon that'll turn a is inch
shell or die standing up behind the bar.
The ability Of Mr.. Blad$ to construct a
bombproof ginmill is not doubted. He
is either compelled to do so or retire per-
manently from business in the liquor line,
and a series of spectacular engagements
may be looked for between the saloon man
and the advocates of total abstinence who
crate with dynamite.
MY cellar is q little bit deeper after
each visit of the Burlington Blue Ribbon
band,'' Black said grimly, land there
isn't much expense clearing away the
wreck. All I do is to square the hole in
the ground and put up another shanty.
Bit wait till I build my single turret,
armor plated beer saloon of chilled steel,
and the temperance gang will think they
are up against the rock of Gibraltar,
b'gosh!
81 must give these teetotalers credit
for waiting till / get out before turning
on their fireworks in my saloen," Black
went on sarcastically. "That is down
right good of them, though my folks
wouldn't have no funeral expenses If 1
did happen TO be in the place at the time.
They argue with me mostly at night.
Some smart Alec lights a stick of dyna-
mite and chucks it through the saloon
window, and everything is of. 1 hear
the notice to vaeate all right, for this amt
a very big town, but 1 just roll over and
go to sleep again, after figuring in my
mind on the price of lumber and more
liquor.
"Once there were five saloons in this
town, but the other proprietors got cold
feet after being blown up two or three
times. I'm the only left in Burling-
ton now. The local trade amt much, but
I do plenty of business between explosions
with farmers driving into town. The
farmers have got so timid and scary the
last few years that I have to carry the
drinks out to the middle of the road.
Bartenders won't stay with me, either.
The second time I was dynamited I left
the free lunch counter out because nobody
wouldn't stop long enough to eat any
thing, and kept good crackers and cheese
too. I tell you it's all fired lonesome run
ming a saloon this way, specially about
election time. Everybody is afraidsto set
around the stove and talk, and it makes
me feel like a pestilance or something
when my customers dash in, strangle
themselves with a drink and dash out
again with the fear of death in their eyes,
but I'm a mar Of principle. The law
gives me the right to sell whisky, and I'll
pass it out even if I nave to do the sky
rocket act myself.
"The first time they touched me of I
had a pretty swell place for a country
crossroads" continued the man who
laughs at high explosives, ''but I don't do
the grand any more. There wasia mirror
the hull length of the bar, real glasses, 9
stove, lunch counter, decanters with labels
on 'em, and brass spigots for the beer
kegs. I even had a towel hanging from
the top rail of the bar, and iron cuspidors
painted pink. But dynamite didn't do a
thing to these gi1ncracks. AL / ever found
was one of the brass spigots in the front
yard Of a preacher who fs strong on tenn
perance. They told me that one of the
cuspidors went through the roof of his
house, but I never called for it. I'm q
peaeeable man, I am, and iron spittoons
with a range of two miles and a half are
| dangerous even to ones enemies The
liquor traffic in Burlington must be'con-
Quoted without bloodshed."