Ten Nights in a Bar RoomArthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay)
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Ten Nights in a Bar Room
Arthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay)
Christian fiction; Temperance -- Fiction
"If he gets richer, somebody will be poorer!" The individual who
tittered these words had not spoken before, and I turned to look at him
more closely. A glance showed him to be one of a class seen in all
bar-rooms; a poor, broken-down inebriate, with the inward power of
resistance gone--conscious of having no man's respect, and giving
respect to none. There was a shrewd twinkle in his eyes, as he fixed
them on Slade, that gave added force to the peculiar tone in which his
brief but telling sentence was uttered. I noticed a slight contraction
on the landlord's ample forehead, the first evidence I had yet seen of
ruffled feelings. The remark, thrown in so untimely (or timely, some
will say), and with a kind of prophetic malice, produced a temporary
pause in the conversation. No one answered or questioned the intruder,
who, I could perceive, silently enjoyed the effect of his words. But
soon the obstructed current ran on again.
"If our excellent friend, Mr. Slade," said Harvey Green, "is not the
richest man in Cedarville at the end of ten years, he will at least
enjoy the satisfaction of having made his town richer."
"A true word that," replied Judge Lyman--"as true a word as ever was
spoken. What a dead-and-alive place this has been until within the last
few months. All vigorous growth had stopped, and we were actually going
to seed."
"And the graveyard, too," muttered the individual who had before
disturbed the self-satisfied harmony of the company, remarking upon the
closing sentence of Harvey Green. "Come, landlord," he added, as he
strode across to the bar, speaking in a changed, reckless sort of a
way, "fix me up a good hot whisky-punch, and do it right; and here's
another sixpence toward the fortune you are bound to make. It's the
last one left--not a copper more in my pockets," and he turned them
inside-out, with a half-solemn, half-ludicrous air. "I send it to keep
company in your till with four others that have found their way into
that snug place since morning, and which will be lonesome without their
little friend."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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