"In 1862 I got a job on the 'Science,' Number 2, a little Government boat running the Ohio and Cumberland rivers. Coming down the Cumberland on one trip I was too sick to work, and the boat put me ashore about twenty miles above Clarksville. The woods where I was dumped out were full of guerrillas, but I managed to secure a little canoe in which I paddled down to Clarksville. There I sold it for three dollars and with the small sum I had already I came to this city, where we were then living. I then drank up every cent I could rake and scrape. I could get all sorts of work, but could keep no job because I couldn't keep sober. I finally depended on getting odd jobs along the river front, such as loading and unloading freight, etc. But the work was so hard I could scarcely do it, and finally I had to give that up, especially after falling and breaking my leg while at work on the old 'United States' several years ago. That accident laid me up in the Marine Hospital for several months, and just as I felt able to get out I broke the same leg again at the same place. After recovering I yielded entirely to the appetite for strong drink and cared for nothing else. As I say, for twenty-three years I have not known what it is to be sober until a few days ago.
"For the past six years I have earned my drinks and some free lunch by picking up old boxes and barrel staves which I would dispose of to the saloon-keepers along the river front who knew me. I did not often ask any one for money with which to buy whisky, for I could always earn it in this manner. I usually slept at my mother's house. As to eating I did not eat much and was getting so I could scarcely eat at all. I am getting over that now, and have a good appetite, as Mr. Holcombe can testify.
"Well, about one month ago Mr. Holcombe came to me and gave me a little talk. He did not say much, but he set me to thinking as far as I was capable of thinking. He saw me the second time, and then several times. Of course, I was always drunk but I understood him. Finally he said to me 'Jim, if you're bound to have whisky, come around to the Mission and let me give it to you.' I promised him I'd come around, and I did so, for I wanted some o' the liquor. After I had gone around several times and he had given me a few drinks, not to make me drunk, of course, but to help me get sober, if possible; he invited me to go in and attend the religious services. I did so and he invited me to come again, which I did. At last he insisted that I should take my meals at the mission, and I have been doing so for some days. Finally I made up my mind to quit drinking altogether, and I intend to stick to the pledge I have taken. I was full last Sunday week for the last time. I was trying to taper off then, but a saloon-keeper on Market, just below Jackson, knowing my condition and knowing that I was trying to quit, gave me a bucket of bock beer. I knew he meant no good to me, but I couldn't help drinking it. Other saloon-keepers have been trying to get me to drink again, and I think they are trying to get me to do a great wrong.