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She sot down. At Ann Arbor, bein seized with a sudden faintness, I called for a drop of suthin to drink. As I was stirrin the beverage up, a pale-faced man in gold spectacles laid his hand upon my shoulder, & sed, "Look not upon the wine when it is red!" Sez I, "This ain't wine. This is Old Rye." "'It stingeth like a Adder and biteth like a Sarpent!" sed the man.
Where the streams of sin are sweeping the people down to damnation and dark despair go there. Where the poor people are being ruined by that cup which not only curses now, but at the last 'biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder' go there. Where struggling souls are crying for sympathy and help go there.
Mothers have a great responsibility in this matter, and one from which they may not escape. If our children see the wine-glass on the home table, in the side-board, at our evening parties, will they not think wine-drinking right and safe, and will there be any fear in their hearts of that which at the last stingeth like a serpent and biteth like an adder?
I do not know why, but it may have been, and probably was, because all the anguish and sorrow that has ever come under my personal observation, has been occasioned by that drink that "biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder," that the scene of the morning mingled with the thought of my cousins below eagerly quaffing their cup of bliss; the sweetest that earth offers to youthful lips.
"No," says the conductor, "this is an express train, and it does not stop until it gets to the Grand Central Depot at Smashupton." Ah, "look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its color in the cup, when it moveth itself aright. At the last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder."
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