The Prescott daily news., 1913-05-16
IN THE DRAGONS PEW
BY J. E. MACDONALD.

The little frontier town of Sander son possessed several saloons and gambling houses, two churches, tele- graph office, but no newspaper. There fore, when Gen. Gorgon Shorter, late of the Confederate army, arrived on the scene and announced his inten- ton of starting a daily journal every one was pleased. But when the gen. eral visited Deacon Lamb, one of Sanderson's most prominent citizens, with view to renting suitable building in which to house the Sand erson Daily Trumpet, the deacon de- clined to lease without receiving quarters rent in advance.
 "Sir-r-r-r!" thundered the redoubt- able Shorter, you insult me. Pay ill advance, indeed-never sir, never
 The deacon, one of the mildest- hammered of men, felt embarrassed and stammered out-for he had an impeachment of speech: "Nn-n-no of fense, ho-ho-hope, g-general?"
 But General Snorters dignity was affronted and the initial number of the Trumpet contained scorching article devoted to the deacon, and scarcely day passed without the good man being in some manner vituperated in the columns of Sand ersons only paper. Now Deacon Lamb, a leading member of the church, was much respected by his fellow citizens none of whom ap- proved of the Trumpet's attacks. Yet nobody dared to remonstrate with the editor. General Shorter was known to be the only survivor of four brothers, who had all died with their boots on" leaving bloody records be- hind them; and if report spoke truly the controller Of the Trumpet's edi- torial destinies had slain several per sonal friends during a somewhat linn ited residence in Texas. Yet the deacon preserved an unruffied calm under fire. Even when Elder Durham fearful lest the truculent Shorter might proceed from verbal to physical violence, urged his brother church man to try to placate the ex-terror of the Lone Star State the deacon merely shook his head and stam- mered:
 "T-t-the general Is c-ch-ch-child of w-w-w-wrath, but I d-d-d-do-don't consider him a d-d-d-dad-dangerous man."
 Thus matters stood when Shorter, in an editorial on religious revival being then conducted in the town by a couple of travelling evangelists, seized the opportunity to emit the following vindictive blast:
 we know of no one in greater need of the sacred ministrations of these good men than that precious old scoundrel-Deacon Lamb. Even forty-rod whisky won't revive him. He has tried that fer the past thirty years. If the liquor he has swallowed during that period could be poured into one vast tank it would form a lake sufficiently large to drown the entire congregation the members of which have for a decade been delud- ed; cheated and gulled by this today soaked and loathsome old hypocrite."
 At about eleven o'clock of the day on which this article appeared Dea- con Lamb entered the editorial sanc- tum of the Trumpet and approached Snorter's desk. The general looked up with savage scowl.
 Well, sir-r-r-r," he growled fierce ly. what can do for you?"
 "N-n-n-n-no-not much, g-gg-general, I m-m-m-merely w-w-wished-"
 Come, come, make 1t short, make it short, I cant sit here all day listening to your internal suffering"
 ''Yes, g-g-ggeneral, I'll m-m-m-make