Carry Amelia Moore Gloyd Nation imagined that she was ” a bulldog running along at the feet of Jesus, barking at what He doesn’t like” and expressed her dislike of liquor physically.
I ran behind the bar she wrote, smashed the mirror and all the bottles under it; picked up the cash register, threw it down; then broke the faucets of the refrigerator, opened the door and cut the rubber tubes that conducted the beer. Of course it began to fly all over the house. I threw over the slot machine, breaking it up and I got from it a sharp piece of iron with which I opened the bungs of the beer kegs, and opened the faucets of the barrels, and then the beer flew in every direction and I was completely saturated. A policeman came in and very good-naturedly arrested me. (page 24)
A bulldog running at the feet of Jesus wielding a hatchet.