I could mow that grass, took his scythe, cut a few clips and bent the
blade very badly. (He often told afterwards, how much stronger I was than
he, said he could mow the stoutest grass and not bend his scythe, but I
had almost spoiled it.) I lay down the scythe, everything seemed to be
bobbing up. I told father I was sick, he said I had better go home and I
started gladly and as quickly as possible. The ground didn't seem to me
to be entirely still, it wanted to raise up. I struck what I called a
"bee-line" for home. When I got there I told mother I was sick, threw
myself on her bed and kept as quiet as possible. When father came he
inquired how I was; I heard what he said. Mother told him I was very sick
but had got a little more quiet than I had been. He said they had better
not disturb me so I occupied their bed all night, the first time I had
ever had it all alone one night. The next morning I felt rather
crest-fallen but congratulated myself in that they did not know what the
trouble was, and they never knew (nor any of the rest of the family until
I state it now). But I knew at the time what the trouble was, and the
result was I had enough of whisky for many years, and took a decided
stand for temperance.

Some years after that, there was a temperance meeting at a log
school-house two miles and a half west of us. I was there and the house
was full. After the opening speech, which pleased me very much, others
were invited to speak. Thinking I must have a hand in I found myself on
the floor. When I got there and commenced speaking, if it had been
reasonable, I would have said I was somebody else, I would have been glad
to have crawled out of some very small knot-hole, but I found it was I
and that there was no escaping, so I proceeded.

Of course I did not relate my own experience, nor tell them that I had
been sick. I gave them a little of the experience of others that I had