The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter — John Shaqi
The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman PotterAdams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
General
The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter
Adams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
Political fiction
The Major now led his team a little out of the road, hung his feed
bag to his horse's head, and while the animal was eating, spread a
sheepskin upon the ground, under some elder bushes, and invited me
to sit down to a plentiful supply of crackers and cheese, to which
he added a quart of cider drawn from a small keg he kept secreted
under his box. He also discovered to me the fact, that in addition
to every variety of tin ware, mop handles, washboards, crimping
moulds, and wooden faucets, he kept a small supply of fourth proof
brandy, which he sold to those who had a want in that line for
winter strained sperm oil, a name convenient enough to suit all
purposes. In truth, the good people of the neighboring villages had
taken so strongly to the temperance cause, that no spiritous
liquors could be got of anybody but the doctor, and then only on a
certificate from the parson, who vouched for your good character,
and set forth that to the best of his belief, it would be used only
as a medicine. And the doctor, who had a scrupulous regard for all
good and well regulated communities, took a joint interest with the
parson, and so raised the price of this sort of medicine as to make
the trade an extremely lucrative one. But as the rich were never
known to be denied, and the poor had not money enough to enjoy so
expensive a cure for their maladies, which were greatest in number,
the popular enactment became not only a grievous, but a very
oppressive monopoly. And this monopoly the major, who esteemed
himself a great public benefactor, sought a cure for in selling for
three shillings a pint, an article equal in quality to that for
which the doctor and the parson demanded ten. But this, he said,
very good naturedly, he was compelled to do on the sly, for though
his customers were principally poor people, if it got noised abroad,
nothing could save him from the fury of a mob of pious and very
orderly people, who would get up town meetings and vote him down an
intolerable nuisance. This done, and the market for his tin pints
and washboards would be closed for ever.
Having refreshed ourselves with the crackers and cheese and cider,
the Major very pleasantly commenced recounting a little affair of
honor he had been called upon to adjust but a few minutes before,
and as he was proud of his skill as a diplomatist, the recital
afforded him an infinite amount of pleasure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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