Burlington Free Press

From the New Orleans Picayune

MENTAL POWER vs. BRUTE FORCE.

We saw the other day emphatically the rarest instance of mental superiority triumphing over the hostility of greater animal strength, than ever encountered our observation. A thin, diminutive, consumptive looking young fellow, lame, and using a crutch, sat upon a packing box out on the sidewalk, in front of a slop-shop on the levee. Another man of herculean frame was striding up and down, swearing roundly to the little fellow, and exhibiting every symptom of rage and fury. The huge bully beat the awning posts with a thick stick that he held in his hand, and cast glances like bowie knives on his quiet opponent on the box. What the offence or cause of quarrel was we made no effort to ascertain, but merely paused an instant, attracted by the oddity of the scene.

"By ----, mister, I'd like to wring the necks of a dozen like you before breakfast," said the boatman.

"Sorry you can't be gratified," responded the little fellow, in a calm, quiet, cool and collected manner, and every tone he uttered was a satirical dagger to the other.

"By ---- I can wring your neck, anyhow."

"For the matter of that so could a child, if a child could be brute enough to do it."

"D—n you, you're not worth flogging!"

"You are, and that's all you are worth."

"Maybe you'd like to flog me?"

"Well, I would."

"Do it."

"Can't—ain't got strength—wish I could, my friend, you shouldn't wait long for it."

"You puny part of a man, I could annihilate you with a single blow."

"Who said you couldn't?"

"I'm a man, sir, a man!" said the boatman, making a demonstration of striking the fellow.

"Any man who strikes a little fellow is a coward," mildly yet pointedly replied the young man.

"Do you call me a coward?" roared the bravo, growing still more furious.

"Yes, if you strike me!" replied the poor cripple, in a cool determinate manner that was electrifying to bear.

"There d—n me if I don't!" shouted the other, bursting into a perfect phrenzy, and darting at the cripple.

The weak and emaciated young fellow, as his enemy approached him, merely curled his haggard features into a smile, and slowly lifted the forefinger of his right hand to point directly and deliberately at his advancing opponent. We never in the world knew so sudden and extraordinary effect produced in a manner so curious. The bullying boatman actually turned pale, and went off muttering oaths as he disappeared around the corner.