A man from the Virginia ore bank came to Shepherdstown last Friday and got pretty comfortably drunk. He bought some dynamite cartridges for use in the mine there, but he handled them rather too recklessly for safety. He was in Mr. Hodges’s store and slammed the dynamite down on the counter in a way that made a body’s hair stand on end. He was quickly arrested, and when he found that he must go to jail he begged like a good fellow. But his entreaties availed not, and he had to spend the night in the little brown jug.
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