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"And, Aunt Linda," added Robert, "as I wouldn't wind a serpent around my throat, I don't want to put something inside of it which will bite like a serpent and sting as an adder." "I reckon Robby's right," said his mother, setting down her glass and leaving the wine unfinished. "You young folks knows a heap more dan we ole folks." "Well," declared Aunt Linda, "you all is temp'rence to de backbone.
The old feller was temp'rence, an' the boys put up a job on him one hot day at gen'ral trainin'. Somebody ast him afterwuds how it made him feel, an' he said he felt as if he was sittin' straddle the meetin' house, an' ev'ry shingle was a Jew's-harp. So I kep' mum fer a while.
Bixbee at first looked a little askance at the wine on the table, but she does not object to it now. Being a "son o' temp'rence," she has never been induced to taste any champagne, but on one occasion she was persuaded to take the smallest sip of claret. "Wa'al," she remarked with a wry face, "I guess the' can't be much sin or danger 'n drinkin' anythin' 't tastes the way that does." She and Mrs.
A good fair road-gait 's good enough fer me; three square meals, a small portion of the 'filthy weed, as it's called in po'try, a hoss 'r two, a ten-dollar note where you c'n lay your hand on't, an' once in a while, when your consciunce pricks ye, a little somethin' to permote the cause o' temp'rence, an' make the inwurd moniter quit jerkin' the reins wa'al, I guess I c'n git along, heh?"
Cullom, jumped and cried out. "David Harum," declared his sister with conviction, "I believe thet that's a bottle of champagne." "If it ain't," said David, pouring into his tumbler, "I ben swindled out o' four shillin'," and he passed the bottle to John, who held it up tentatively, looking at Mrs. Bixbee. "No, thank ye," she said with a little toss of the head, "I'm a son o' temp'rence.
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