Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1861-10-29
LAZY SANS
Or, How job Won the Sc, 800.

The following story will not be worth the
less for being true. A Kentuckian horse
drover being in South Carolina with
drove, happened to take it to the neighbor-
hood of General H, whose character
for jockeying and maneuvring in trade is
much more celebrated than his feats in arms.
The Kentuckian having perfect acquaint-
ance with his character, went to see him to
sell him horses-or to swap-or to run a
race, as the destinies might order and decree.
He was one ofthose careless, unconcerned,
knock-down and drag-out sort Of fellows,
who could assume just as much simplicity
of countenance and address as circum-
stances might require. He had the appear
ance of about twenty-five or twenty-three
years of age, and as usual, was dressed in
tine blue mixed jeans to hide dirt, and wore q
drab-colored hat for the same reason.
"Gineral," said he ~ am just from old
Kaintuck, with some powerful nice horses,
and maybe you want some. Daddy told me
if came on to your parts to call on you,
and he reckoned maybe you would buy
pair Of matches, or help me out in tradin'
for he said you had a power of money, and
understood tradin' to a scribe. Here's let
ter from him" handing one. " And besides,
l have as fine pair of matches as you could
shake a stick at, and as tight nag for
quarter, Daddy says, as any in those parts
he says l must run no races, cause mought
lose, and we want all the money we can
scrape to pay for land. But | reckon he d
suit you to q fraction, Gaze you're sportin
character, mought win apowerful chance Of
money on him.
While he was thus introducing himself
and telling his business, the General opened
the letter, which read as follows;
"Dear Gineral--I take this opportunity to
wright to you by my Job, who is taken the
first drove he ever driv, and l want you to
roll logs a little for him, if so he suits you.
Jobs spry enough at home, but hasn't cut
his eye teeth, and you'll lend him hand,
I'll due as much for any of your boys, if
you've got any, whatsoever they come here
tradin' or any thing else. So no more at
present but remain your affectionate friend
till death" PETER TOMPKINS.
The hero of our horse races, cotton bags,
and sugar hogsheads thought he perceived
a neat speculation, and acted accordingly.
Mr. Job Tompkins was received with much
courtesy !; his man and boy were enter
tanned with the best in the larder; while
his five and twenty horses were not ne
elected. It is true that the General had
not the slightest recollection of his friend
and correspondent Peter Tompkins. He
might have once known him or not; it was
the same thing. Here was Job, raw Ken
lucky STRIPPING, with twenty-five horses, as
easily squeezed as ripe lemon. 1t was not
in his nature to forbear.
In the mean time, Job Tompkins made
himself quite free and easy, and staggered
about the costly furnished apartment as if
he had been in log cabin. He viewed the
silver plate on the sideboard with much ap-
parent astonishment, and pair of silver
snuffers, especially, excited his curiosity.
Lord, Gineral! ar them thar candle
snuffers made out of the pure stuff? never
seed any afore but iron ones, and nanny
uses her sheers. And all them ar things on
that ar big chist (the sideboard) is the ra' al
Spanish castins | heard talk of this afore,
but never seed it. Now, if l was to tell this
in our settlement maybe they wouldn't hop
straddle Of me, and ride over me rough
shod, for q liar. But they say you're a
powerful sight the richest man in the South
States, amt your
10 all which the General returned suita-
bic answers, and Mr.. Job and he were hand
in glove for the time being. Each man was
TesOlutely bent to make u successful lodg-
ment in his neghbors pocket, with the view
of taking it out Ia Herculean task, to be
sure) when Job heard in the next room the
sound of music. Several Kentucky reels
were played; anon, the sweet breathings of
melodious voice sung "Sweet, sweet
home"
"May be ID" said job "if that
don't beat Bob Walker and he's a patch
above common. But that amt none of your
music boxes, know; it can't be. Is it ?"
My daughter is playing on the piano."
said the General "We will walk into the
room and hear her" Here were blandish-
ments 10 strike Job dumb, and entrance all
his senses.
"The man who has no music in his soul
And is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasOns. stratagems aud spOils."
Job thought a man might love music and
spoils also. He felt q liking for both.
Therefore he applauded the music in his
own way most rapturously.
Said Job, "May l. never pull another
trigger, if she's not priming above any
thing l heard talk about. Why, she's
chartered She's ra-al one, l assure you
Why, it's enough to make fellow swim
that can't; and if it wasn't for all these
fine kiverlids over the track, 1.-THE carpet J
and had partner to my mind, I'd go my
drove TO nothing, or less, | can shake the
ticks off any boy you can produce"
The General now thought the Kentuckiau
ripe enough, to aid in which he had beel
piled with choice liquors, as he denominate
The brandy and Madeira.
The horses were brought out, and ex
amined, and praised, and cheapened, anC
faults found with all.
They could agree upon nothing.
Well, where's your quarter horse ~
asked the General.
"Oh, hol sort o thot what you were
after" answered Job, "for you hardly looked
at them thar matches, and these fine geld
ings. So you must be after the quarter nag
Jim, fetch up Lazy Sam, will you? Now
Gineral, I'll tell you, honor bright he's neve
been lick't in quarter squirt but once, by
Joe Miller's sorrel mare, which runs like
streak Of lightning. She's a ra-al screamer
Daddy sWept for him last fall, after shr
tanned him out. If knoWed her I'd Civ
you her marks, 50 as you mighn't be tuck
in, for heard Joe was bringing her to thl
South TO win his expenses. But here's thu
horse anyhow, and assure you he's no
slow"
Now, be it remembered that honest Jol
was not ignorant that General H wa
at that time the owner of this identica
Is:c, AID fog reasons best ka0EE % hin
The famous Kendall, the Boston bugler.