146 THE FOGY DAYS AND NOW ; 



even do that, and indeed this jackass problem had become one 

 of great anxiety and gloom to me. 



One day I had my hands near the public road, raising some 

 timbers to build a carriage house, when I heard a halloa out at 

 the road. I turned and saw a solitar}' horseman halted in the 

 highway. He called to me in the most beseeching tones, and 

 said : "My friend, will you be so kind as to step this way, just 

 for a moment." He seemed in great distress, so I ordered the 

 boys to stop work till 1 returned. As I approached, the man 

 reached out his hand and grasped mine, saying: "My friends 

 I want to ask a favor of you; do not deny me; I am suffering.'' 

 I asked, "What can I do for you, sir?" (feeling my heart melt- 

 ing toward the poor fellow.) He continued : " My good friend 

 I have been riding alone for hours down this lonesome old 

 ' Bond's Trail.' I have not met or seen a human face, and I 

 am under a most sacred vow. I have sworn never to take 

 a drink of spirits by myself, and I have in my saddle-bags 

 some of the best old peach brandy you ever wet your lips 

 with. I want you to take a drink with me ; please don't 

 refuse, for I feel I cannot stand it any longer." The favor 

 seemed so small and the self-denial on my part so insignifi- 

 cant, that I complied with his request. Then he took the bot- 

 tle, and a goodly i)ortion of its contents went down his thirsty 

 throat. I then offered him my hand and wished him a pleas- 

 ant journey on his way; but he held my hand, and pleadingly 

 said: "My dear friend, don't go yet; just one more, please." 

 I took the flask and turned it up to my lips, as if I intended to 

 take another, and — did, then, after watching him gurgle down 

 swallow after swallow, begged to be excused, as my hands 

 were waiting for me, and again bid him Godspeed on his way, 

 when he cried out: "Oh, my dear friend, my good friend, just 



