Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1859-04-30
NJ | 5 { f i l. A y Y.
From the Knckcrbocker Magazine.
A SCENE OF ARKANSAS LIFE.
PURSUIT OF HOSPITALITY UNDER Drrlcr1nI

PURSUIT OF HOSPITALITY UNDER DIFFICULTIES
In the early settcmert of Arkansas a travel
Ter, after riding some eight or ten miles without
meeting human being, or seeing a human
habitation, came at length by a sudden turn OF
the wood road, to a miserable "shanty" the
centre of small clearing, in which had origi-
naAy been "black jack -thicket," whence the
only sound that proceeds is the dscordani mu-
sic of broken-winded fiddle, from the troubled
bowels Of which the occupant is laboriously ex-
torting the monotonous tune known as "Tho
Arkansas or Rackensack Traveller" Our
traveller rides up to within few feet of the
door. which was once the bed frame of cart
body, now covered with bear skins, and hung
upon two big wooden hinges. After much
shouting, the inmate appears, fiddle in hand,
and evidently "wrathy" at being interrupted in
the exercise of his art. The following colloauy
ensues, the interchangeable fiddler still playing the
first strain of "The Arkansas Traveller" which
i'll fact he continues, at sudden intervals, until
the dialogue, as will be seen, is brought to an
unexpected conclusion. If this not be seeking
lodgings under difficulties" we should like to
know what might be legitimately so considered.
Traveller:
Friend, can I obtain accommodation for the
night with youp"
Arkansas Artist:
"No, sir-'nary 'commodation."
Traveller:
"My dear sir, have already travelled thirty
miles to-day, and neither myself nor nv horse
has had mouthful to eat; why can't you ac-
commodate me for tonight ?"
Arkansas Artist:
Just case it can't be did. We're plum out
of everything to eat in the house; Bills gone
to mill with the last nubbin of corn on these
premises, and it'll be nigh on to the shank of
tomorrow evenin' afore he cume home, unless
suthin' uncommon happens"
Traveller;
''You surely have something that | can feed
to my horse; even few potatoes would be bet
ter than no food"
Arkansas Artist:
stranger, our eatin'-roots gin out about
week ago; so your chance is slim thar"
Traveller,
"But, my friend, must remain with YOU. any
way. | can't go any farther, whether i obtain
anything to eat or not. You will certainly al
low me the shelter of your roof?"
Arkansas Artist:
at can't be did, old hoss You see we've
got only one dried hide on the premises, and me
and the old woman allus occupies that: SO
Whdl's your chancep"
Traveller:
"Allow me to hitch my horse to that persim-
mon tree, and with my saddle and bag, III make
a bed in the fence corner"
Arkansas Artist:
glitch your hoss to that simmon tree Pin
horn! Why, you must be a nat'ral fool, strang-
er! Don't you see that's me and the old wo-
mans only chance for 'smmon beer, in the fall
of the yearP If your hoss is so tarnal hungry
as you say he is, he'd girdle it as high up as he
could reach, afore mornn' Hitch your hoss
to that tree! l 'spect not no, no, stranger, you
can't come nary such dodge as that"
Our traveller, seeing that he had an original
to deal with, and being himself an amateur per-
former upon the instrument to which the set
tier was so ardently attached, thought he would
change his tactics, and draw his determined
not-to-be-host out little, before informing him
Of the fact that he too cold play the Arkansas