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Page, Thomas Nelson, 1835-1922

"The Burial of the Guns"

I took a good look at him -- at "No. 4",
as he called himself. He was tall, but stooped a little;
his features were good, at least his nose and brow were;
his mouth and chin were weak. His mouth was too stained with the tobacco
which he chewed to tell much about it -- and his chin was like
so many American chins, not strong. His eyes looked weak.
His clothes were very much worn, but they had once been good;
they formerly had been black, and well made; the buttons were all on.
His shirt was clean. I took note of this, for he had a dissipated look,
and a rumpled shirt would have been natural. A man's linen tells on him
before his other clothes. His listener had evidently been impressed
by him also, for he arose, and said, abruptly, "Let's go and take a drink."
To my surprise "No. 4" declined. "No, I thank you," he said, with promptness.
I instinctively looked at him again to see if I had not misjudged him;
but I concluded not, that I was right, and that he was simply "not drinking".
I was flattered at my discrimination when I heard him say that he had
"sworn off". His friend said no more, but remained standing while "No. 4"
expatiated on the difference between a man who is drinking and one who is not.
I never heard a more striking exposition of it.


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