"
SHOW YOUR COLORS.
BY REV. C. H. MEAD.
I was riding on the train through the eastern section of North
Carolina. Nothing can be flatter than that portion of the country,
unless it be the religious experience of some people. The rain was
pouring down fast, and, for a person so inclined, not a better day and
place for the blues could be found. Looking out of the car windows
brought nothing more interesting to view than pine trees, bony mules
and razor-back hogs. Groups of men, white and black, gathered at each
station to see the train arrive and depart. Each passenger that
entered brought in more damp, moisture and blues.
Two men at last came in and took the seat in front of me. Shortly
after, one of them took a bottle from his pocket, pulled the cork, and
handed the bottle to his companion. He took a drink, and the smell of
liquor filled the car. Then the first one took a drink, and back and
forth the bottle passed, until at last it was empty and they were full.
Then one of them commenced swearing, and such blasphemy I never heard
in all my life.
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