The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1859-07-09
Arkansas Traveller.


In the early settlement Of Arkansas, a ira
yelcr, after riding some eight or ten miles
without meeting human being. or seeing
human habita,ion, came NJ length, by sud
den turn Of the wood.road 60 u miserable
"shhnty," the centre Of a small clearing. IN
what had originally been "Black jaek.lhiek.
ct" whence the only sound that proceeds Il
the diseordant music Of broken-vinded fd-
die, from the troubled bowels Of which the
occupant is laboriously extorting the mono
tnnug~ tupu kUO~H 49, TAc drkursus, or
RackeHsaek, Trareiey." Our trSvclcr rides
up within a few feet Of the door, which was
once the bed frame Of n body, now Gov
erred with bcnr.skins. and hung upon two big
wooden hinges. KrIer much shouting, the
inmate appears, fiddle in hand. and evidently
"wrathy" at being interrupted In the exercise
Of his'art. The following eolloquy ensues,
the indefatigablo 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, ia brought to
an unexpected conclusion. II this be not
seeking lodgings under difficulties" we
would like to know what might be legitimate
ly so considered;
Traveller "Friend, can obtain aceomoda-
tions FOR the night with you ?"
Arkansas Artist; "No, Sir--'nary com
modation."
Traveller: "AIy dear Sir, have already
Travelled thirty miles to day, and neither my
self nor my horse has had mouthful to
eat tchy can't you accommodate me for to
night ?"
Ark. Artist "Juu case il can't be did.
We're plum out Of every thing 10 eat in
the house; Bills gone to mill with the last
nubbin of corn on these premises, and n be
nigh onto the shank Of tomorrow evenin
afore he cum home, unless sumthin uncom-
mon happens"
Traveller: "You surely have something that
l can feed to my horse even a few potatoes
would be better :han no food"
Ark. Artist: "Stranger, our eatin'-roots
gin out about week ago so your chance ia
slim thar"
Traveller "But my friend, must remain
with you, any way. can't go any further,
whether l obtain anything to eat or not You
certinly will allow me the shelter of your
roofp'
| Ark. Artist; ut can't be did, old hoss.
You see, we've got only one dried hide on
the premises, and me and the ole woman
allus occupies that so phdr's your chance ,"
Traveller "Allow me TO hitch my horse TO
that persimmon-trec, and with my saddle and
blanket III make bed in the fence-corner."
Ark. Artist: "Hitch your horse to that
isimmon-tree PIN hornl Why, you must
be a nat'ral fool strnngar! Don't you see
that's me and the ole woman's only chance
for simmon beer, in the fall Of the year7 If
your hoss is $50 tarnal hungry as you say
he is, he'd girdle il as high as he could reach
afore norma. Hitch your hoss TO that tree
spect mott no, no, stranger, you can't come
nary sich dodge as thatr
Our traveller, seeing that he had an origi.
nal to deal with, and being himself an anna.
teur performer upon the instrument to which
the settler was 80 arlently attached, thought
he would change the tactics, aud draw his de-
tefmined ,not-to-be host out q littlo, before
informing hiJs- Of the fact, that he too eoult
play the "Arkansas Traveller" which ono,
being known, he rightly conjeotured, woult
be a passport for his better graces.
NNwell, friend, II can't stay, how far is i
to the ntSt house ?"