The Buchanan County guardian. (Independence, Buchanan County, Iowa) 1858-1864, 1859-04-07

In the early settlement of Arkansas, a
traveller, after riding some eight or ten
miles without meeting human being Oh
seeing human habitation, came at length
by sudden turn of the wood road, to a
miserable " shanty," the centre of a small
clearing in what had originally been a
+" black jack thicket,' whence the only
sound that proceeds is the discordant
music of broken-winded fiddle, from
the troubled bowels of which the occu-
pant is laboriously extorting the monoto-
nous tune known as The Arkansas or
Rackensack Traveller Our traveller rides
up within few feet G the door, which
was once the bed sstis of cart body,
now covered with bear-skins, and hung
upon two big wooden hinges. After
much shouting, the inmate appears, fid :
die in hand, and evidently wrathy' at
being interrupted in the exercise of his
art. The following colloquy ensues, the
indefatigable fiddler still playing the first
strain of The Arkansas Traveller which,
in fact, he continues at sudden intervals
until the dialogue, as will be seen, is
brought to an unexpected conclusion. If
this be not " seeking lodgings under diff
ficulties," we should like to know what
might be legitimately so considered.
Traveler-Friend, can l find accom- :
modations for the night with you?
Arkansas Artist-No, sir-'nary com
modatien.
Traveler-My dear sir, have already
travelled thirty miles to-day, and neither
myself nor my horse has had mouth
full to eat; schy can't you accommodate
me for tonight?
Ark. Artst-Just cause 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 II be nigh onto the shank
of tomorrow evenin' afore he Gums home,
unless sumthin uncommon happens.
Traveler-You surely have something
that | can feed to my horse; even a few
potatoes would be better than no food
Ark. Artist.-Stranger, our eatin'-
roots gin out about week ago so your
chance is slim thar.
Traveller-But, my friend, l mast re-
main with you, any way. | can't go any
further, whether | obtain anything to eat
or not. You certainly will allow me the
shelter of your roof
Ark. Artistic can't be did, old hoss.
You see, we've got only one dried hide
on the premises, and me and the ole wo-
man allus occupies Mat-so irhar's your
chance
Traveler-Allow me to hitch my horse
to that persimmon tree, and with my sad :
die and blanket I'll make bed in the
fencecorner.
Ark. Artist.-Hitch your horse to that
'simmon tree-in horn Why, you
must be nat'ral fool, stranger Don't
you see that's me and the ole woman's
only chance for 'simmon beer. in the fall
of the year If your horse is so tarnal
hungry as you say he is, he'd girdle it as
high up as he could reach afore mornin'.
Hitch your horse to that tree | 'spect
not! No, no, stranger, you don't come
nary sich dodge as that !
Our traveller, seeing that he had an
original to deal with, and being himself
an amateur performer upon the instru-
ment to which the settler was so ardent
ly attached, thought he would change
his tactics and draw his determined not
to-be host out little, before informing Q
him of the fact that he, too, could play
the Arkansas Traveller, which once being
known, he rightly conjectured would be
passport to his better graces.
Traveler-Well, friend, if l can't stay,
how far is it to the next house ?
Ark. Artist-Ten miles and you'll
think they're mighty long ones, too, afore
you get thar. l came nigh onto forget
tin to tell you. the big creek is up the
bridge is carried off thare's nary yearth,
ly chance to ford it; and if yer bound to
cross it, yer'll have to 90 about seven
miles up the stream, to ole Dave Lody's
puncheon bridge. through one of the big
gest bamboo swamps ever you see.
reckon the bridge is standin' yet; twas
yesterday mornin', though one eend had
started down stream about fifteen feet, OF
sich matter.
Traveller-Friend, you seem commu
NEGATIVE, and, if it's no offence, I'd like
to know what you do for living
Ark. Artist-No offence on yearth
stranger we just keep a grocery.
Traveller-A grocery! Where, in
the name Of all that is mercantile, de
your customers come from your near
est neighbor is ten miles distant ?
Ark. Artist-The fact is, me and til,
ole woman is the best customers yet
but we 'spect these diggins will improve
and, in course. business will improv,
too. Hows' sever, we do suthin noW, even
Me and the ole woman took the cart 10th
Fer day, and went to town ; we bort bar
of whiskey and arter we come home
and gin to count the balance on hand
we found thar want but just one soltar,
picayune left, and as the ole woman allu
carries the pas, in course she had it,
Well, sot the bari agin one side of tn
room, and shortly arter, the ole womal
sez: Supposin you tap your end of tn
bar'l, and l did and she bought
drink. and paid me apicayune. Prett.
soon, | begun to get dry, and sez |
Ole woman, spozen You tap your end 0
the bar'l-and she did and then sh
sells me drink and the way that plea