I set
nothin' down as a business, which a man don't live by."
"Perhaps you're right, Waring. More die by whiskey than live by
whiskey."
Whiskey Centre seemed struck with this remark, which was introduced
so aptly, and was uttered so quietly. He gazed earnestly at his
companion for near a minute, ere he attempted to resume the
discourse.
"Blossom has often said as much as this," he then slowly rejoined;
"and even Dolly has prophesized the same."
The bee-hunter observed that an impression had been made, and he
thought it wisest to let the reproof already administered produce
its effect, without endeavoring to add to its power. Waring sat with
his chin on his breast, in deep thought, while his companion, for
the first time since they had met, examined the features and aspect
of the man. At first sight, Whiskey Centre certainly offered little
that was inviting; but a closer study of his countenance showed that
he had the remains of a singularly handsome man. Vulgar as were his
forms of speech, coarse and forbidding as his face had become,
through the indulgence which was his bane, there were still traces
of this truth. His complexion had once been fair almost to
effeminacy, his cheeks ruddy with health, and his blue eye bright
and full of hope.
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