James Drummond Ellsworth

“ Then the man from Maine went forward into the baggage car and returned with a pale, haggard face. I wondered how his complaint would develop. Perhaps it was smallpox or measles by this time.
A glance at my watch assured me that the sun had passed the meridian. Bringing out the flask I had filled at Boston, and unscrewing the top, I said, "Stranger, will you join me?"
"Thanks, very much," he replied; "I am a Maine man—"
As the train slowed up at Portland, the remainder of his sentence was drowned in the gurgling sound of liquor that flowed gently and smoothly as in a familiar channel. ”

“ The brakeman brought some water in a tin cup. The suffering man motioned him away, gasping, "I wouldn't dare (cough) to take water (cough) ; it makes it worse."
The swarthy stranger drew from his grip a pocket flask and handed it to the sufferer. The spasmodic cough ceased for a moment, and a familiar voice said:
My friend, I hail from the State of Maine and believe in total abstinence. I can't take a drink, but I'll just swallow a few drops as medicine."
We rolled into Portsmouth as he handed back the half-emptied bottle. ”

“ His thin, freckled face looked as if it had been carved with a chisel, and his clothes were economically cut to save cloth. Altogether, he had an air of Yankee thrift that might suggest to a cynical observer that he had taken the rear seat to save the interest on his fare while the conductor was making his way through the car. ”