THE HOOSIER AND THE SALT PILE
BY DANFORTH MARBLE
"I'm sorry," said Dan, as he knocked the ashes from his regalia, as he
sat in a small crowd over a glass of sherry, at Florence's, New York,
one evening,--"I'm sorry that the stages are disappearing so rapidly. I
never enjoyed traveling so well as in the slow coaches. I've made a good
many passages over the Alleghanies, and across Ohio, from Cleveland to
Columbus and Cincinnati, all over the South, down East, and up North, in
stages, and I generally had a good time.
"When I passed over from Cleveland to Cincinnati, the last time, in a
stage, I met a queer crowd. Such a corps, such a time, you never did
see. I never was better amused in my life. We had a good team,--spanking
horses, fine coaches, and one of them drivers you read of. Well, there
was nine 'insiders,' and I don't believe there ever was a stage full of
Christians ever started before, so chuck full of music.
"There was a beautiful young lady going to one of the Cincinnati
academies; next to her sat a Jew peddler,--Cowes and a market; wedging
him was a dandy black-leg, with jewelry and chains around about his
breast and neck enough to hang him.
Pages:
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160