doing right.--Punkin Centre Philosophy.
Reminiscence of My Railroad Days
Dedicated to Engineer John Hoolihan, Pittsburg and Lake Erie Railroad,
Pittsburg, Pa.
WALL, John, I read your poetry,
And laughed till I nearly cried,
Seein' how you became an engineer,
And got on the right hand side.
It made me think of the days gone by,
When I wuz one of you fellers, too,
What used to run an old machine,
And go tootin' the country through.
But the engine that I had then, John,
Wuz far from a "Nancy Hanks;"
She wuz old and worn and loggy,
And jist chuck full of pranks;
And she wuz wonderfully got up, John,
Full of bolts and valves and knobs,
And the boiler wouldn't hold water;
Gosh, it wouldn't hold cobs.
But I wuz younger then, John,
And I didn't care a cuss;
So I'd pull the throttle open
And jist let her wheeze and fuss.
The road that I wuz a-runnin' on
Wuz out in the woolly west;
Two streaks of rust and the right of way
Wuz puttin' it at its best.
So we sort of plugged along, John.
And didn't put on any frills,
Never thought of doin' anything
But doublin' all the hills.
I tell you those were rocky times,
And we hadn't no air brake;
And fifteen miles an hour, John,
Wuz durn good time to make.
And thar wuz as good a lot of boys
As you could meet with anywhere;
Rough and ready open up,
And always on the square.
And I'd like to see them all again,
And grasp each honest hand;
But some of them, like me, have quit,
Some have gone to another land.
I have changed somewhat since then, John,
Jist a little more steady grown;
But I often think of my railroad days
As the happiest ones I've known.
And, John, I often watch the train.
As they go whizzing by;
As I think of Bill, or Jim, or Jack,
Thar's a tear comes in my eye.
Perhaps you'd like to know, John,
Just why I quit the rail,
And as some feller one time sed,
"Thereby hangs a tale."
I wuz goin' along one night, John,
At a purty lively rate,
The old machine a-doin' her best,
And me forty minutes late,
When all at once there came a crash,
I felt the old track yield,
And fireman, machine and I
Went into a farmer's field.
There's little more to say, John,
They laid me up for repairs,
But my fireman, poor fellow,
Hadn't time to say his prayers.
So now you have my story, John;
Still, you don't know how it feels
To know you've got to plug around
On a couple of flat wheels.
But it doesn't bother me, John,
Gosh, not fer a minnit;
I'm as happy as the day is long,
And feel jist strictly in it.
But sometimes I like to meet the boys,
And talk them days all over,
And I feel as gay and chipper
As a calf in a field of clover
But the happiest days I've known, John,
The ones that to me see best,
Wuz when I run an old machine
Way out in the woolly west.
Glory--Gittin' killed and not gittin' paid fer it.
--Punkin Centre Philosophy.
Uncle Josh at a Circus
WALL, 'long last year, 'bout harvest time, thar wuz a cirkus cum to
Punkin Centre, and I think the whole population turned out to see it.
They cum paradin' into town, the bands a-playin' and banners flying,
and animals pokin' their heads out of the cages, and all sorts of jim
cracks. Deacon Witherspoon sed they wuz a sinful lot of men and wimmin,
and no one aughter go and see them, but seein' as how they wuz thar, he
alowed he'd take the children and let them see the lions and tigers and
things. Si Pettingill remarked, "Guess the Deacon won't put blinders on
himself when he gits thar." We noticed afterwards that the Deacon had a
front seat whar he could see and hear purty well.
Wall, I sed to Ezra Hoskins, "Let's you and me go down to the cirkus,"
and Ezra sed, "All right, Joshua." So we got on our store clothes,
our new boots, and put some money in our pockits, and went down to the
cirkus. Wall, I never seen any one in my life cut up more fool capers
than Ezra did. We got in whar the animals wuz, and Ezra he walked around
the elefant three or four times, and then he sed, "By gum, Josh, that's
a durned handy critter--he's got two tails, and he's eatin' with one and
keepin' the flies off with t'other." Durned old fool! Wall, we went on a
little ways further, and all to onct Ezra he sed, "Geewhiz, Josh, thar's
Steve Jenkins over thar in one of them cages." I sed, "Cum along you
silly fool, that ain't Steve Jenkins." Ezra sed, "Wall, now, guess
I'd oughter know Steve Jenkins when I see him; I jist about purty near
raised Steve." Wall, we went over to the cage, and it wan't no man at
all, nuthin' only a durned old baboon; and Ezra wanted to shake hands
with him jist 'cause he looked like Steve. Ezra sed he'd bet a peck of
pippins that baboon belonged to Steve's family a long ways back.
Wall then we went into whar they wuz havin' the cirkus doin's, and I
guess us two old codgers jist about busted our buttins a-laffin at that
silly old clown. Wall, he cut up a lot of didos, then he went out and
sot down right alongside of Aunt Nancy Smith; and Nancy she'd like to
had histeericks. She sed, "You go 'way from me you painted critter," and
that clown he jist up and yelled to beat thunder--sed Nancy stuck a pin
in him. Wall, everybody laffed, and Nancy she jist sot and giggled right
out. Wall, they brought a trick mule into the ring, and the ring master
sed he'd give any one five dollars what could ride the mule; and Ruben
Hoskins alowed he could ride anything with four legs what had hair on.
So he got into the ring, and that mule he took after Ruben and chased
him 'round that ring so fast Ruben could see himself goin' 'round
t'other side of the ring. He wuz mighty glad to git out of thar. Then
a gal cum out on hoss back and commenced ridin' around. Nancy Smith sed
she wuz a brazen critter to cum out thar without clothes enough on
her to dust a fiddle. But Deacon Witherspoon sed that wuz the art of
'questrinism; we all alowed it, whatever he meant. And then that silly
old clown he told the ring master that his uncle committed sooiside
different than any man what ever committed sooiside; and the ring master
sed, "Wall, sir, how did your uncle commit sooiside?" and that silly old
clown sed, "Why, he put his nose in his ear and blowed his head off."
Then he sang an old-fashioned song I hadn't heered in a long time; went
something like this:
From Widdletown to Waddletown is fifteen miles,
From Waddletown to Widdletown is fifteen miles,
From Widdletown to Waddletown, from Waddletown
to Widdletown,
Take it all together and its fifteen miles.
He wuz about the silliest cuss I ever seen. Wall, I noticed a feller a
rummagin' 'round among the benches as though he might a-lost somethin'.
So I sed to him, "Mister, did you lose anythin' 'round here any place?"
He sed, "Yes, sir, I lost a ten dollar bill; if you find it I'll give
you two dollars." Wall, I jist made up my mind he wuz one of them cirkus
sharpers, and when he wan't a-lookin' I pulled a ten dollar bill out of
my pockit and give it to him; and the durned fool didn't know but what
it wuz the same one that he lost. Gosh, I jist fooled him out of his two
dollars slicker 'n a whistle. I tell you cirkus day is a great time in
Punkin Centre.
Uncle Josh Invites the City Folks to Visit Him
I DIDN'T s'pose when I wuz gittin' ready to go home, that all you folks
would be down here to the depo' to see me off. Wall, now, that's purty
good of ye, I'll be durned it it ain't. Yes, I guess I'll have to be
goin' home now; I've stayed here this time 'bout as long as I kin afford
to. I must say, some of you folks have made it purty warm fer me since
I've bin here in New York; but I guess I've enjoyed it 'bout as much as
you have.
I'd like to have you all cum down to Punkin Centre and see MEE some time
this summer, if you hadn't got nuthin' else to do. Lots of fun down thar
on that farm of mine, huntin', fishin', and shootin', and other things.
Wall, I never shot but one bird in my life, and that wuz a squirrel;
yes, sir, a flyin' squirrel.
I had a feller workin' fer me on the farm last summer, and he was
cross-eyed, and I sent him out in the paster to dig a well fer me, and
what do you s'pose? Wall he dug it so tarnal all-fired crooked that he
fell out of it and sprained his ankel. Then one day I sent him out in
the garden to plant some pertaters and some unyuns fer me, and it jist
seemed like that feller didn't have good hoss sense. He planted them
unyuns and pertaters right alongside of each other, and the unyuns got
into the pertaters' eyes and they couldn't see to grow. Oh, yes, lots of
fun down home onct in a while. I calculate I've got the funnyest lot of
chickens you ever heerd tell on. I've got sixty old hens and they lay an
egg every day; but they don't lay any at nite, cos when nite comes every
one of them is roosters. I had one old hen, she went into the woodshed
and sot down on the ax and tried to hatch-it. I had another one sottin'
on a door knob, tryin' to hatch out a house and lot, but she didn't.
While she wuz a-sottin' there along cum a rooster, and he sed, "We're
having a little party down behind the barn; will you dance with me this
set?" and she sed, "No, sir, I'm engaged to his nobs for this set."
Gosh, I wuz afraid to go out in the barnyard one while, cos one day
when I wuz out thar I heerd a hen say to a rooster, "Thar's that old
gray-headed cuss we've bin a-layin' fer."
Guess that's my train; s'pose I'll have to be a-goin'; good-bye; cum
down and see me some time if you kin, ev'ry one of ye; cum down about
apple-butter time and jist butt in--good bye.
Yosemite Jim, or a Tale of the Great White Death
YOSEMITE JIM wuz the name he had,
And he came from no one knowed whar;
Quiet, easy goin' sort of a cuss,
And wuz reckoned on the squar'.
Ridin' a route for the Wells Fargo folks
May have made him stern and grim;
But thar wasn't a man that crossed the divide
But 'ud swar by Yosemite Jim.
He wa'n't one of the regular sort
What you'd meet thar any day,
But as near as the camp could figure it out,
In a show down he'd likely stay.
A shambling, awkward figure,
Rawboned, tall and slim,
And his schaps and togs in general
Jist looked like they'd fell on him.
I wuz somewhat of a tenderfoot then,
Hadn't jist got the lay of the land;
Thar wuz a good many things in them thar parts
As I couldn't quite understand.
But I took a likin' to Yosemite Jim,
Wuz with him on my very first trick;
And from that time on I stuck to him
Like a kitten to a good warm brick.
Our headquarters then wuz the valley camp,
It wuz down by the redwood way,
With Chaparel across the spur,
'Bout fifty miles away.
Wall, what I'm goin' to tell you, pard,
Happened thar whar the trail runs into the sky;
And if it hadn't a-bin fer Yosemite Jim,
Wall, I'd be countin' my chips on high.
The galoot that wuz punchin' the broncos fer me
Wuz a greaser from down Monterey;
And Jim used to say, "Keep your eye on him, pard,
I don't think he's cum fer to stay;
His eyes are too shifty and yeller,
And his face is sullen and hard;
And 'taint that so much as a feelin' I have;
Anyhow, keep your eye on him, pard."
One day when the mercury wuz way out of sight,
And the frost it wuz on every nail,
With jist the mail sack and specie box,
The greaser and I hit the trail.
We picked two passengers up at Big Pine,
And while the broncos were changed that day
I noticed them havin' a sneakin' chat
With the greaser from down Monterey.
Did you ever hear tell of the Great White Death,
That creeps down the mountain side,
Leavin' behind it a ghastly track
Whar those who have met it died?
Wall, pard, as true as I'm a-livin',
No man wants to see it twice;
White and grim as a funeral shroud,
A mass of mist and ice.
Wall, we hadn't got far from the Big Pine relay
When my hair it commenced to rise,
For I saw across by the Lone Bear spur
A cloud of most monstrous size.
And the greaser acted sort of peculiar,
And the broncos commenced to neigh;
Wall, some thoughts went through my mind jist then
I won't forgit till my dyin' day.
In less time than it takes to tell it,
We were into the Great White Death,
With its millions of frozen snowflakes
A-takin' away our breath.
And jist then somethin' happened, pard,
The greaser from down Monterey
Tried to sneak off with the specie box,
Along with the passengers from Big Pine relay.
All at once a figure on hossback
Cum a-whoopin' it down the trail,
And bullets from out of a Winchester
Commenced to fly like hail.
The greaser and them two passengers
Cashed in their chips to him,
Fer the feller what wuz doin' the shootin'
Wuz my friend, Yosemite Jim.
Wall, we planted them thar together,
When the cloud had passed away;
And all they've got fer a tombstone
Is the mountains, dull and gray.
So, pard, let's take one together,
And I'll drink a toast to him,
Fer though he wuz rough and ready,
He'd a heart, YOSEMITE JIM.
The Great White Death, so named by the Indians, occurs in the higher
altitudes of the Rocky and Sierra Nevada Mountains. It is almost
indescribable. It might properly be termed a frozen fog. It has the
effect of bringing on acute congestion of the lungs, from which few
rarely recover. Viewed at a distance it is a magnificent sight, each
and every particle of the frozen moisture being a miniature prism, which
reflects the sun's rays in a manner once seen never to be forgotten.--By
CAL. STEWART, formerly Overland Messenger for the Wells-Fargo Express
Company.
Uncle Josh Weathersby's Trip to Boston
FER a long time I had my mind made up to go down to Boston, so a short
time ago, as I had all my crops and produce mostly sold, I alowed it
would be a good time to go down thar, and I sed to mother, "I'll start
early in the mornin' and take a load of produce with me, and that will
sort of pay expenses of the trip."
Wall, I got into Boston next mornin' bright and early, 'bout time they
had their breakfast, and I looked 'round fer a spell; then finally I
picked out a right likely lookin' store, and jist conclooded I'd sell
my load of produce thar. Wall, I went in and I met a feller 'nd I sed,
"Good mornin', be you the storekeeper?" And he sed, "No, sir, I'm only
one of the clerks." So I sed, "Wall, be the storekeeper to hum?" And
he sed, "Yes, sir, would you like to see him?" And I told him as how I
would, and he turned 'round and commenced to hollerin' "FRONT," and a
boy cum up what had more brass buttins on him than a whole regiment of
soljers. I thought that wuz a durned funny name fer a boy--front--and
that clerk feller he wuz about the most importent thing I'd seen in
Boston so far, less maybe it wuz the Bunker Hill monument that I druv
past cummin' to town. He had on a biled collar that sort of put me in
mind of the whitewashed fence 'round the fair grounds down hum. I'll bet
if he'd ever sneeze it would cut his ears off.
Wall, anyhow, he sed to that front boy, "Show the gentleman to the
proprietor's offis." Wall, I went along with that boy, and presently we
cum to a place in one corner of that store; it wuz made out of iron and
had bars in front of the winders, and looked like the county jale. The
front boy p'inted to a man and sed, "Go in," and I sed, "I gessed I
wouldn't go in thar, cos I hadn't done anything to be locked up fer."
And that front boy commenced to laffin' tho' durned if I could see what
he wuz a-laffin' about, and the storekeeper he opened the door and cum
out, and he sed, "Good mornin', what can I do fer you?" I sed, "Be you
the storekeeper?" and he sed he wuz. So I sed, "Do you want to buy any
pertaters?" And he sed, "No, sir, we don't buy pertaters here; this a
dry goods store." So I sed, "Wall, don't want any cabbage, do ye?" And
he sed, "No, sir, this is a dry goods store." So I sed, "Wall, now, I
want to know; do you need any onions?" And by chowder, he got madder 'n
a wet hen. He sed, "Now look a-heer, I want you to understand onct fer
all, this is a dry goods store, and we don't buy anything but dry goods
and don't sell anything but dry goods; do you understand me now? DRY
GOODS." And I sed, "Yes, gess I understand you; you don't need to git so
tarnaly riled about the matter; neer as I can figure it out you jist buy
dry goods and sell 'em." And he sed, "Yes, sir, only dry goods." So I
sed, "Do you want to buy some mighty good dried apples?"
Wall, that front boy got to laffin, and a lot of wimmin clerks giggled
right out, and the storekeeper he commenced a-laffin', too, and fer
about a minnit I thought they'd all went crazy to onct. Wall, he told a
feller to show me whar I could sell my produce, and I disposed of it at
a good bargain.
I like them Boston folks, they try to make you feel to hum, and enjoy
yourself and be soshable, and I wuz chuck full of soshability, too; I
wuz goin' up one street and down t'other, jist a-gettin' soshability at
ten cents a soshable.
Wall, I gess I seen about everything wuth seein' in Boston, and I wuz
a-standin' along-side of one of their old churches, a-lookin' at the
semetry, and I gess thar wuz folks in thar burried nigh unto three
hundred years. And I wuz jist a-thinkin' what they'd say if they could
wake up and see Boston now, when I noticed a row of little toomstones,
and one of them it sed, "Hester Brown, beloved wife of James Brown," and
on another it sed, "Prudence Brown, beloved wife of James Brown," and on
another it sed, "Thankful Brown, beloved wife of James Brown." Wall,
I couldn't jist make out what she had to be thankful about, but I sed,
"Jimmy, you had a right lively time while you wuz in Boston, didn't
you?" Then I seen another toomstone and on it it sed, "Matilda Brown,
beloved wife of James Brown," and another one what sed,
"Sara Ann Brown, beloved wife of James Brown," and over in a little
corner, all to itself, I seen a toomstone, and on it it sed, "James
Brown, At Rest."
Who Marched in Sixty-One
CAL STEWART, New York, Memorial Day, 1903.
I'VE jist bin down at the corner, mother,
To see the boys in line,
Dressed up in their bran' new uniforms,
I tell you they looked fine.
And as they marched past whar I stood,
To the rattle of the drum,
It made me think of those other boys
Who marched in sixty-one.
The old flag wuz proudly wavin', mother,
Jist as it did one day
When you stood thar to say good-bye,
And watch me march away.
So I stood thar and watched them
Till the parade wuz nearly done,
But thar wasn't many thar to-day
Who marched in sixty-one.
And thar wuz my old Captain
And the Colonel side by side,
And as they both saluted me
I jist sot down and cried.
And I thought about some other boys
Whose work has long bin done;
Soon thar won't be any left at all
Who marched in sixty one.
I heered the band play Dixie,
And my old heart swelled with pride,
A-thinkin' of the boys in gray
Who marched on the other side.
And when my time it comes, mother,
The Lord's will it be done,
I hope he'll take me to the boys
Who marched in sixty-one.
End of Project Gutenberg's Uncles Josh's Punkin Centre Stories, by Cal Stewart