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idrottlr to ani (Smral Vol. 3. Hartford, Conn., Jiine 11, 1868. No. 24. The Grog-Seller’s Dream. A trog-ieller sat his bar-room fire. With,his fset as high as his head or higher. Watohing the smoke as he paffad it oat. That in spiral colamas oarled aboat.i Veiling his faoe with its fleeoy fold. As lastly up from his lips it rolled. WMlft a .doabtful soent and a twilight gloom Were steadily gathering to fill the room. To their dranken slumbers, one by one, Foolish and fiiddled his friends had gone. To wake in the morn to the drankard's pain With * blood-shot eye and whirling bridn; i> row ^ xang the watohman's ory— '*Past'two o'clooic and a oloady skyl" Tet the host sat wakefU sUU and shook His head, and winked with a ehaekling look. **Ho,her sidd he. with a ehaekling tone. ^*XJuMKJhi^wiy the tU v M d o a fj-_ ____ - Twice flTe.MW teiij and another V. Two ones. two. tW<M. and a ragged three. Make tw enty^ar >for nky well-filled fob; He. h* i ’tis rath0r a good night’s Job. The fools hare gniiled . my brandy and wine-* If aoh good nuv it do them, the cash is mine I!’ And he winked again, with a knowing look. And from his cigar the ashes shook.— ** He. he I the yoankert are in my net. • , I have them safe, and I ’ll fleece them yet— There’s Brown, what a jolly dog is he. And be swells the way that I like to see: Let him dash for a while at his reckless rate And his farm is mine as sare as fate. “ I ’Ve a mortgage now on Tompkins’ lo t; What a fool he was to become a sot I Bat it’s luck for me—in a month or so I shall foreclose, and the scamp must go. Zounds I won’t his wife hare a taking on. When she hears that his house and lot are gon*. How she will blubber and sob and righ— But business is business, and what care 1 ? "And Gibson has murdered his child, they say; He was drunk aa a fool here yesterday. And I gave him a hint as I went to fill His jug, but the brute would have his will. And the folks blame me; why bless their gisiards. If I didn’t sell, he would go to lu a rd ’s; I 'r e a ^ h t to engage in a lawfrd trade. And take my chance where there’s cash to be mad*. '* I f men get drunk and go home to turn Their wives out doors, ’tis their own concern; But I hate to have women come to me With their tweedle-dumi and tweedle-dee. With their swollen eyes and their haggard looks. And their speeches learned from temperance books, With their pale, lean children, the whimpering fools— Why can’t they go to the public schools? ** Let the hussies mind their own affairs. For nerer hare I interfered with theirs; I shall turn no customer away. Who is willing to buy and able to pay. For business is business—he, he, be, he I” And he lubbed h)s hands in his chuckling glee, *' Many a lark I haye caught in my net; I have them safe, I will fleeoe them yet.” “ He, he, he, he I” ’Twas an echoed sound— Amased, the grog-seller looked around: This side and t|iat through the smoke peered h». But naught but the chairs could the grog-seller see, **Ho, hoi ha, hel” with a gvttural n o te - I t seemed to come from an iron throat; And his knees they diook, and his hair ’gan risei And he opened his mouth and strained his tyesS And lol in a comer dark and dim, Stood an aa«ou(h form with an aspect grim; From his grisly head, through his snaky hair. Sprouted of hard, rough horns a pair; And redly his ohaggy brows below. Like a sulphurous flame did his small eyes glow; And his lips were curled with a sinister smile, And the smoke belched forth from his mouth the while. . Folded and buttoned around his breast. Was a quaint and silvery-gleaming vest; Asbestos it seemed—but we only guess Why he should fancy so cold a dress; Breeches he wore of an amber hue, From the rear of which a tail peeped through; His feet were shaped like a bullock’s hoof. And the boots he wore were caloric proof. In his hand he bore—if hand it was. Whose fingers were shaped like vulture’s claws. A three-tined fork, and its prongs S'* dull Through the sockets were thrust of a gritanlng skullt Like a spectre he waved it to and froi.-^ ' ; And softly clj^ucklcd. “ Ha. hat h«K|M^’ ~ -Jtad-alt the whiU ware Like sulphurous flames, on the grog-imMt'tddiil* And how did he feel beneaAi that look ? Why, his jaw fell down, and he shivered and shook* And quivered and quaked in every limb, As if an ague fit had hold of him— And his eyes to the monster grim were gluei, And his tongue was as stiff as a billet of wood; And the fiend laughed on, **Ho,ho! he. hel” And switched his tail in his quiet glee. Why, what do you fear, my friend?” he said. And nodded the horns of his grisly head; You’re an idly of mine, and I love you well; In a very warm country which men call hell. I hold my court, and I ’m proud to say. I have not a faithfuler fiend in pay Than you. dear sir. for a work of evil; Mayhap you don’t know me I I ’m the devil.” Like a galvanised corpse, so pale and wan. Up started, instanter. tb it horrer-struck man; And he turned up the whites of his goggle eyes With a look half-terror and half surprise; And his tongue was loosed, but his words were • few,— •• The devil ? you dont ?”- “ Yes, faith, I do.” Interrupted Old Nick. ** and here’s the proof— Just see my tail, and my horns, and hooft.” “ Having come from warmer climes below. To chat with a friend an hour or so. And the night being somewhat chill, I think You might ask an old fellow to take a drink. Now let it be strong—the' clear, pure stuff. Sweetened with brimstone—a quart is enough; Stir up the mess in an iron cup. And heat by the fire till it bubbles up.” As the devil bade, so the grog-seiier did, Filling a flagon with gin to the lid ; And when it boiled and bubbled o’er. The flery draught to his guest he bore. Nick in a jiffy the liquor did quaff, And thanked his host with a guttural laugh; But faint and few the smiles, I ween. That on the grog-seller’s face were seen. For a mortal fear was on him then. And he deemed that the ways of living men He would tread no more; that his hour had come And his master, too. to call him home. Thought went back to the darkened past. And shrieks were heard on the wintry blut.J And gliding before him, pale and dim. Were gibbering flends and spectres grim. "Ho.ho.” said Nick, “ ’tis a welcome cold You give a friend so true and old. Who has been for years in your own employ Running about like an errand-boy; But we’ll not SiH out. for i clearly sea You are rather afraid, (’tis strange.) of me: Do you think I ’ve come for you ? Never fear. You can’t be spared for a long while here. There.4re hearts to break, there are souls to win Fr«i^%e ways of peace to the paths of sin; Thtire'are homes to be rendered desolate; Theif* is trusting love to turn to hate; Th^re are hands that murder must orimsoa red: Th4i^ are hopes to crush; there is blight to be shed Ov^ the young, and the pure and the fair, Til).th?tir lives are crushed by the fiend despair. This i t the work you have done so well— Canibfe the earth and peopling hell. Quenching the lighten the inner shrine Of the human soul, till you make it mine: Watat and sorrow, disease and shame. And crines that eVen I shudder to name. Dance aid howl, in their hellish glee, Aroi:|nd ihe spirits you’ve marked for me. ' ■: ■ . "I is a good device ........ ’flood iaitaiBisl Aad tlWiViSlM'^trwtgAgiard erewhile in prayer. With its muttered curses stirs the air; And the hand that shielded the wife from ill. In its ^runken wrath is raised to kill. Hold on your course: you are filling up With the wine of the wrath of Ood. your cup; And fiends exult in their homes below, Ab you deepen the pangs of human woe. Long will it be, if I have my way. Ere the night of death shall close your day; For to pamper your lust for the glittering pelf. You rival in mischief—the devil himself.” No more said the fiend, for clear and high Rang oat on the air the watchman's cry; With a choking sob, and a half-formed scream. The grog-seller waked-it was all a dream 1 His grisly guest with the horns, had flown; The lamp was out and the fire was gone; And sad and silent his bed he sought. And long oi the wondrous vision thought. An Honest Shilling better than a Dishonest Dollar. BY MRS. C. FLANDERS. “Halloo I There’s something turned up, ” shouted Peter,dropping iais marblps into his pocket and bounding o£f toirard a crowd gathering upon the sidewalk. “Ned, Ned I” beckoning aa he ran to a schoolmate, “I say, old fellow, something’s in the wind. Hurry up your cakes I” The Ned appealed to, was a slight, pleasant- faced lad, who was returning from school, with his books under his arm. Like all boys, Ned had no objection to see what was going on, and he did not need a second invitation to join Peter. Both boys ran themselves out of breath, and elbowed themselves through the collection of people in less time than it takes to write it. “Whewl” whispered Peter, “here’s luck. Spot your game and put your foot over it. I’ll back you if you’ll back me.” Ned did not exactly understand the cause of Peter’s enthusiasm, but he saw that a man had scattered some money on the sidewalk, and that be was very anxious to recover it again. Like any other honest, obliging lad, Ned immediately joined in the searoh, and being very successful, had the pleasure of returning many gold pieces to the owner. Turning to speak to Peter, he could no longer see him, and supposing that the crowd had separated them, he went on as* sistinx in the search, until the gentleman expressed himself satisfied, and a policeman ordered the crowd to disperse. As the gentleman turned to depart, he chanced to notice Ned, who was still loitering near him, and putting his hand into his pocket, handed him a shilling ; remarking as he did so, that he was an honest lad, to whom an honest shilling would bring ter luck than a dishonest dollar.” It did not (iccur to Nod that a shillixig was a very small recompense for the gold kuew.tei^ weU it no rfglht-i^inded boy woiildT deiire ment for doing a just deed; therefore, wben the gentleman offered him the trifling snm| he at first declined it, but afterwards, when it was pressed upon him, accepted it grace* fully, thinking the stronger merely sought to acknowledge his indebtedness to him. “If you please,” said Ned, touching his cap, “may I ask if you recovered all of your money ?” “Pretty much all, I missed a gold dollar, but in such a crowd one could not expect all to be honest. But where is my dog ? Here, Tip, Tip 1” called the man. “1 declare, I am afraid somebody has stolen him. Bless me, 1 wouldn’t lose Tip for all the money in my purse.” The man ran this way and that, Ned still attending, but it was all in vain. Tip was gone. The man who had shown so little excitement when he lost his money, now actually shed tears of concern. ** Vip saved my youngest child from drowning. I bought him for Bertie after he be* came lame, and the dear boy died with his arms around Tip’s neck. I must find him if I travel the whole city over.” Weary at length with the useless pursuit, Ned left the gentleman and was retracing his steps, when he observed a man who seemed to be in trouble. “Somebody has picked my pocket; I have been waiting this half hour for some one to come along who knows me and will lend me ten cents to lide up town ; I am four miles from hoipe, and have & business engagement which I would not miss for worlds.” ^ “I have te||i cents, and I am sure you are entirely weleome to it,” said Ned, producing the shilling. “Bless you,” cried the stranger, “for an obliging little chap: Hit there’s a coach I” As the man sprang forward to secure his seat, he called to Ned to follow. As he stepped into the coach he tossed a beautiful pocket-knife towards him, and waved his smiling adieus from the coach window. Here was a windfall, and no mistake. It
|Title||State temperance journal and home visitor, 1868-06-11|
|Subject||Temperance -- Connecticut -- Newspapers; Temperance -- Rhode Island -- Newspapers; Hartford (Conn.) -- Newspapers|
|Description||Frequency: [Three per month], Aug. 6-Sept. 24, 1868; Weekly, Jan. 2-June 25, 1868; Semimonthly, July 9-23, 1868; Publication dates: Vol. 3, no.1 (Jan. 2, 1868) -v. 3, No. 34 (Sept. 24, 1868); Notes: "Official organ of all the Temperance Societies in this State|
|Collection||Newspapers of Connecticut|
|Source - Location||Connecticut State Library microfilm, AN104.N7 T46|
|Relation||Preceding title: State temperance journal (New London, Conn.); Succeeding title: Meriden weekly Republican (Meriden, Conn. : 1868); State temperance journal and Meriden weekly Republican|
|Rights||Digital Image © Connecticut State Library. All rights reserved. Images may be used for personal research or non-profit educational uses without prior permission. For permission to publish or exhibit, see Reproduction and Publication of State Library Collections, http://ctstatelibrary.org/reproduction-publication/|
|Title-Alternative||The state temperance journal and home visitor; Journal and visitor|
|CONTENTdm file name||10003.cpd|
idrottlr to ani (Smral
Vol. 3. Hartford, Conn., Jiine 11, 1868. No. 24.
The Grog-Seller’s Dream.
A trog-ieller sat his bar-room fire.
With,his fset as high as his head or higher.
Watohing the smoke as he paffad it oat.
That in spiral colamas oarled aboat.i
Veiling his faoe with its fleeoy fold.
As lastly up from his lips it rolled.
WMlft a .doabtful soent and a twilight gloom
Were steadily gathering to fill the room.
To their dranken slumbers, one by one,
Foolish and fiiddled his friends had gone.
To wake in the morn to the drankard's pain
With * blood-shot eye and whirling bridn;
i> row ^ xang the watohman's ory—
'*Past'two o'clooic and a oloady skyl"
Tet the host sat wakefU sUU and shook
His head, and winked with a ehaekling look.
**Ho,her sidd he. with a ehaekling tone.
^*XJuMKJhi^wiy the tU v M d o a fj-_ ____ -
Twice flTe.MW teiij and another V.
Two ones. two. tW
|CONTENTdm file name||9995.pdfpage|