Litchfield enquirer., 1862-10-30
Alislrllonp.
THE DoWNEAsrER AND THE BULL.

TRUE STORY.
 There will be a smart chance" of '' bull"
 this story. cannot promise that it will be
 good story, or funny story but I am keen swear that it is true one.
 What I am going to relate, happened in Mu catine county, Iowa, midway between Iowa Git then the capital cf the State, and Muscatir City, a aourishing town on the Mississippi rive in section of the country called the Wapsino' moe Settlement, from creek bearing that nam which runs through the settlement.
 It was in '52, land that part of Iowa was the thinly settled,j that found myself one night, q the Eagle Hotel." in West Liberty, a vilIag of some five houses, about one mile east of War sinoenoc Creek, Wepsi-white, 'soe-eartt noc-creek literally, white earth crsek,) ant situated on a beautiful prairie pillow.
 Some half dozen travellers and villagers wer lounging in front of the ample fireplace in th' bar room-for, though the settlers had only { few days since finished their harvest, the eve niugs were somewhat cool, and small fire wal necessary to perfect comfort-ta:king of thei prospects, and whether there was. likely to be { large emigration pass through to California ir the Spring, to buy their surplus food and othe1 produce, when new character burst upon the stage. As the door was flung open. all eyes were fixed in stare of astonishment and wonder on c new conner.
 The stranger was tall, raw boned, lantern. awed individual. with faxen locks struggling about his shoulders. His long spindle legs were encased iL blue jeans and he wore coat of the " stell pen cut" and in color what he would have denominated "butnut,' with an oil cloth cap drawn 50 tightly down upon his head, that it had the appearance of having been pasted on.
 Then what appeared most strange and un accountable, was, that he was wringing, dripping wet. His whitish yellow earlocks were pasted down to his cheeks, and streaks of dirt marked the course of divers miniature water courses across his forehead, and down his nose /; water drpped from the claw hammer tails of his coat and from the wristbands of the same. On his back he carried all oil-cloth carpet bag, securely listened by stout leather straps, which crossed upon his back.
 Marching into the middle of the room with an immense chatter of wet COW hide boots, he halted and cast an enquirng glance around the circle occupying the benches in front of the fire Basley, the landlord of the Eagle' arose, nod, T ,t
 Iieow'd ye dew Be yeou the landlord O this house.?
 "lesr
 Want know: Reckon ye couldn't keep fellow hur, nor give bite O suthin forsupper, could yer7'
 Yes-r."
 Ye mean to say yer ken-bed aud break fast1"
 "Yssr"
 "Gol darn glad t hear ont and ef you kin just mix fsller little suthin hot and strong wi.h good deal of rum int an but little water it'll do me mazin sight O good"
 "Yesr."
 Strong, miud-a good deal O ticker. You've got rum2'
 Yesr."
 "A good deal O rum an but little water stiff, as the old man ussd to aay-stif, Mir. land lord.'
 "Yes-r."
 While the landlord was preparing his rum, the stranger stood in front of the bar. with the pack still on his back, evidently bent on seeing that the correct thing was done in the rum and water mingling. "Then having imbibed 8 "regular sporter," he asked the landlord to as sist in removing his pack. This being done, he was about handing his carpet bag over to the landlord, to put behind the bar, when he caught sight of an immense rent in it, and thereIron protruding the corners of articles of clothing within it, The instant he made the discovery the carpet sack fell from his hands, his jaw dropped, and for few seconds he stood the very image of dis pair. At length he reused himself and striking his clenched fist against his fore head, he howled in g voice of heart-repdlug az ony.
 Ruined, ruined ruined Te,otally burstet to smash! One hundred and sixty acres of thu best land that ever lay eout o'doors, ripped al l., flinders! O, Sarer Ann! little knowest thou that we art ruined, busted family Little yeou thlnkest that thou art begger! O, Jerew wsalem! How shall ever meet yeou, since thi sin, this destruckshion have been raut I Afte all our skrimpip' and skrewin' and plnchin and twistin' arfter selling old Barney and thu stesrs arfter selling the two year old hefer and the nine shoates and arter thou, o, Sarer Ant goin' to church in kaliker, we're busted fam fly! o. Jerewsalem! All all lost. and gone il minnitl o, heow little Jed and Sarer Am can meet yeou'"
 This outburst from the tall Yankee surprise us all. We could not imagine what had haE pened to cause him so much grief. for the poo man was actually beside himself with terror an despair, and tears were flowing plentifully dow his brown and weather-beaten cheeks.
 "What on earth has happened to you, to caus , you so much distress? You are certainly nt lamenting at this rate over that rent in your cal pet bag?" asked I, adva ncing to whers O Yankee was standing. "Qh, no. DO holy Jerewsalem! ef tw
 nothip' else but thatl Oh, murder, murder. dasen't hardly think ont Thers poor, po I Sarah Ann, feelin' SO proud, and talkn to lit t Jed about onr fine new home on the praire