The Use and Need of the Life of Carrie A. Nation | Page 8

remember the closet where the barrel of spirits was kept. He
used to give it out to the colored people in a pint cup on Saturdays.
Persons have often said to me: "Our grandfathers used it, and they did
not get drunk." Truly, we are reaping what they have strewn. They
sowed to the wind and we are reaping the whirlwind.
After breakfast, the colored man, Patrick, who waited on my
grandfather, would bring out a horse and grandfather would ride around
the place. He was very fond of hunting, and always kept hounds. My
father would tell this joke on him. When "Daddy" Rice was baptising
him in Dick's River grandpa said: "Hold on, Father Rice, I hear
Sounder barking on the cliffs." Sounder was his favorite hound. There

was a Mr. Britt who was a great fox hunter, who lived near my
grandfather, and whose wife was opposed to his hunting. One morning
my grandfather went by Mr. Britt's house winding his hunter's horn. Mr.
Britt jumped for his trousers and so did Mrs. Britt, who got them first
and threw them into the fire. Another time, quite a party of ladies and
gentlemen had gathered at my grandfather's place, to go on a fox hunt.
Grandfather went upstairs hurriedly to put on his buckskin suit. He
jumped across the banisters to facilitate matters, lost his balance and
tumbled down into the hall, where the company was waiting. He did
not get hurt, it was a great joke on him. When he was a young man he
learned carpentering in company with Buckner Miller, who was of the
same trade. These two young men came to Kentucky from Virginia, on
horseback, seeking their fortunes. They had many experiences, always
endeavoring to stop at houses for the night where there were young
ladies. One house where there were quite a number of girls, Buckner
Miller played off this joke on my grandfather. The girls occupied the
room below where the men were sleeping. The men heard a commotion
in the girls' room. My grandfather tipped softly, down and Buckner
after him, to find out what was going on. They opened the door
sufficiently to see the girls in their gowns, circling around the candle,
playing "poison." Mr. Miller, to pay my grandfather for some pranks he
had played off on him, gave him a push, and grandfather rushed into
the middle of the room in his night clothes. The girls flew under the
beds and the men ran upstairs and climbed out at the window.
{illust. caption = MY FATHER, GEORGE MOORE.}
My father's name was George Moore, and his father's name was Martin
Moore. He was of Irish descent. He had two brothers who died when
the cholera raged in Kentucky, about 1842. One of them, William
Moore, married a Miss Blackburn of Versailles, Ky. He had several
sisters, some of them died young.
Mark Antony, in his memorial address over the body of Caesar, said
that Brutus was Caesar's angel. If I ever had an angel on earth, it was
my father. I have met many men who had lovable characters, but none
equaled him in my estimation. He was not a saint, but a man--one of
the noblest works of God. He was impetuous, quick, impatient, but
never nervous, could collect himself in a moment and was always
master of the situation. I have seen him in many trying places but never

remember to have seen him in a condition of being afraid. When he
lived in Cass County, Mo., during the war, we saw Quantrell's men
coming up to the house. These men were dressed in slouch hats, gray
suits, and had their guns and haversacks roped to their saddles. My
father was a union man, but a southern sympathizer. He cried like a
child when he heard the south had seceded and taken another flag. He
did not know to what extent he was disliked by this gang of
bushwhackers, and we were very much alarmed; fully expected some
harm was meant. Men on both sides were frequently taken out and shot
down. When the Bushwhackers would kill a union man then the
Jayhawkers would kill "a secesh."
My father said to us: "You stay in the house and keep quiet. I will meet
them." I watched him through a window. He was tall and straight as an
Indian. He walked up to them, taking off his hat and called "Good
morning" to them in a friendly tone. Asked them to get off their horses,
for he had a treat for them. In the corner of the yard was the carriage
house and under that was a rock spring house, through which a living
stream of water ran around the pans of milk. He took them