Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1866-04-26

"Slr, SAID MIR. Greeley, "are you aware
that must be at Placerviile at seven
O'Clock to night 2"
"I've got my orders" laconically re-
turned Henry Monk.
Still the coach dragged slowly for
ward.
"Sir," said Mr.. Greedy, "this is not
a trihing matter. l a'a@ be there at
seven"
Again came the answer ave got my
ORDERS"
But the speed was not increased, and
Mr.. Greeley chafed away another half
hour; then as he was about TO remon-
strate with the driver, the horses started
into furious run, as all sorts of encour-
aging yells filled the air from the throat
of Henry Monk.
"Thats right my good fellow! !" said
MIR. Greeley. I'll give you $40 when we
arrive at Placerville. Now we are ge-
ingm
They were, indeed, and at terrible
speed.
Crack Crack went the whip, and
again that voice split the air. "Git up!
Al vi G'long Ylp-yip!"
And on they tore, over stones and
ruts, up hill and down, at rate never
before achieved by stage horses.
Mr.. Greeley, who had been bouncing
from one end of the coach to the other
like an India-rubber ball, managed to
get his head out of the window, when
he said;
"Don't-on'ton't you think we-e-e shall
get there by seven if we don't-on't go
so fast ?"
'I've got my orders"
That was all Henry Monk said and
on tore the coach.
1t was becoming serious. Already
the journalist was severely sore from
the terrible jolting, and again his head
might been seen at the window. "Sir,"
he said, 81 don't care-air, if you don't get
there at seven ~
Give got nay orders !"
Fresh horses. Forward again, faster
than before. Over rocks and stumps,
on one OF which the coach narrowly es-
capped turning summerset.
"See here" shrieked Mr.. Greeley, 81
don't care if we don't get there at all !"
"Ive got my orders work for the
California Stage Company. do. That's
what l work for. They said "get this
man through by sewing" and this mans
goin' through. You bet ! You bet
Gerlong Whooepl
Another frightful jolt, and Mr.. Gree
ley's head suddenly found its way
through the roof of the coach, amidst
the crash of small timbers and the rip
ping of strong canvas.
"Stop. you-maniac !" he roared.
'I've got my orders. Keep yom' seat
Horace !"
At Mudd Springs, village q few
miles from Placerville, they met large
delegation of citizens of Placerville, who
had come on to meet the celebrated ed
itor to escort him to town. There was
military company a brass band, six
horse wagon load of beautiful damsels
in milk white dresses, representing all
the States in the Union. 1t was nearly
dark now, but the delegation were am
ply provided with torches, and bonfires
all along the road to Placerville.
The citizens met the coach in the out
skirts of Mudd Springs, and Mr.. Monk
reined in his foamiDg steeds.
"Is Mr.. Greeley on board 2" asked the
chairman of the committee.
"He was a few miles back !" said Mr..
Monk, ''yes,,' he added, looking down
through the hole which the fearful jolt
ing had made in the coach roof-"yes, I
can see him He is there %
''Mr. Greeley, said the chairman of the
committee, presenting himself ct the
window Of the coach, "Mr Greeley, sir!
We have come to most cordially welcome
you-why, God bless me sir you are
bleeding at the nose"
Give got my orders" cried Mr.. Monk.
"My orders is as follows: Git him there
by sewing. 1t wants quarter of sewing.
Stand out of the way.
"But, sir" exclaimed the committee
man, seizing the off leader by the reins,
"Mr, Monk, we are come to escort him
to town. Look at the procession, sir,
and the brass band, and the people, and
the young women, sir 2"
"Ive got my ORDERS" screamed Mr..
Monk. "My orders don't say nothinS
about brass band and young women.
My orders say get him there by sewing.
Let go them lines. Clear the way there.
Whoo-ep! Keep your seat, Horace!" end
the coach dashed away wildly through
the procession, upsetting a portion of the
brass band, and violently grazing the
wagon CoutdlnInS inc Deautuui YcUuS
women in white.
Years hence, gray haired men, who
were little boys in this procession, will
tell their grandchildren how this stage
tore through Mudd Springs, and how
Horace Greeleys bald head ever and
anon showed itself, like wild appara-
tion, above the coach roof &
Mr.. Monk was on time. There is
tradition that MIR. Greeley was indignant
for while, then he laughed, finally pre-
senting Mr.. Monk with bran new suit
of clothes. Mr.. Monk himself is stillin
the employ of the California Stage Com
pany, and is rather fond of relating
story that has made him famous allover
the Pacific coast. But he says he yields
to no man in his admiration for Horace
Greeley.