Cooper's Clarksburg Register

Some years ago, before Pittsburgh, the dirty city of western Pennsylvania, was reached by railroads from the East, the wagon was a great institution. The well-tired wheels untiringly toiled over mountains and vales, making long journeys, slow but sure.

Dave Stewart was a noted wag and wagoner. He was always boasting of this great feat and that which he had performed in his expeditions teaming over the Alleghanies. Some of these mountain passes are very narrow, cut into the side of the cliffs, and on the outside a precipitous precipice admonishes the driver to hug the rock close as he goes. When teamsters meet in such places, the rule of the road is set aside, and the stoutest man keeps to the wall.

Dave was six feet high, and well proportioned, and when one day he met an old gentleman, driving leisurely along in his gig, Dave determined to have some fun at his expense. High above their heads was an overhanging table rock, and as the horses stood head to head, Dave said to the old gentleman: 'I want you to do me a favor.' 'Certainly,' said the old gentleman, 'what can I do for you?' 'I want you to climb upon that rock and dance while I whistle!' 'I shall do no such thing, and I trust you do not intend to take advantage of an old man in such a place as this.'

Dave stepped forward with his heavy horse-whip in hand, and raising it threatened to lay it on him if he did not mount the rock and dance as he was told. Seeing Dave was in earnest, the gentleman made a virtue of necessity, and scrambled up. Dave whistled and he danced until both were tired, and the fun was stopped—when Dave told him to come down, back out of the pass, and let him go in.

'But,' said the old gentleman, as he came down, 'I want you to do me a favor now.' 'And what is that?' 'I want you to go up there and dance while I whistle!' Dave refused. 'You won't eh?' said the stranger, drawing a pistol suddenly and pointing it at Dave's breast; 'I'll make daylight shine through you in less than two seconds if you don't move.'

Dave told the story himself, and said, 'What else could I do? The old fellow was in earnest—up I had to climb, and there I had to dance while the old fellow whistled and laughed, and threatened to shoot if I stopped a minute—and he kept me a going, full jump, and two hours or more, till I was in a lather worse than my horses in July. Just as I was ready to fall, he let me come down, and made me back out of the pass, and as he drove by advised me never to ask any unnecessary favors of strangers again. And I don't mean to.'

There are many young men who, if they were to study the character of Franklin, would learn a salutary lesson. He was never too proud to work, and thought no employment beneath his dignity, that was necessary and honorable.