TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR ROOM BY T. S. ARTHUR NIGHT THE FIRST. THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF." Ten years ago, business required me to pass a day in Cedarville.
It was late in the afternoon when the stage set me down at the
"Sickle and Sheaf," a new tavern, just opened by a new landlord,
in a new house, built with the special end of providing
"accommodations for man and beast." As I stepped from the dusty
old vehicle in which I had been jolted along a rough road for some
thirty miles, feeling tired and hungry, the good-natured face of
Simon Slade, the landlord, beaming as it did with a hearty
welcome, was really a pleasant sight to see, and the grasp of his
hand was like that of a true friend.
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