Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1867-08-01
The 9epnblifau.
THE DO wv EA SIEH ON THE
sf BULL.
A TRUE STORY.

TRUE STORY.
What | am going to relate. happened in
Muscatinc county, Iowa. mid way between
Iowa City, tsrecapital of the State, and
Muscatine city, a flourishing iowa on the
Mississippi, in section of the country
called W%PsinOeRce Settlement, from a
creek bearing that name, which runs thro'
the settlement
II was IN 1882 (and that part of Iowa
was then thinly settlep,) that found N.Y.
self one evening at the Eagle Hotel. In
West IIbcssy, a village OF some five nous
es, ab0ut enc mile east of Wapsinoencc
Creek, { white-earth, noe
creek; literally, white-earth creek,) and
situated ON beautiful prairie billow.
Some halfdozer travellers and villagers
were lounging in front of tire ample FIRE
place in the barrOom, for trough The sci.
tiers had finished their harvest, the eve
nings were somewhat cool. and a small fire
was necessary to perfect cOmfOrt-talking
of their prospects, and whether there was
likelytO he a large emigration pass thro'
TO California in the spring to buy their sur
p.us feed apd other produce, when new
character burst upon the stage. As the
door was flung open, all eyes were fixed in
stare establishment al the new conner.
The stranger n tall, rxv bs&ncd, Ian
tern-jawed Individual, with flaxen locks
struggling about his shoulders. His long
spindle legs were encased in blue jeans.
and he wore coat efthe ''stecl pen cut
and in color what he would have denOml-
mated ''bnt'nut," with an oil cloth cap
drawn so tightly down upon his head that
it had the appearance ofhaving been past
ed on"
Then what appeared most strange and
unaccOuntable was, that he was wringing.
dripping wet His whitish yellow ear
locks were parted down 10 his checks, and
streaks of dirt marked the divers miniature
water courses across his forehead. and
down his nose; water dripped from the
claw-hammeI tails of his coat and from the
wristbands of the same. On his back he
carried an oil-cloth carpet bag. securely
fastened by stout leathen straps across his
breast Marchiug into the middle of the
room with an immense CHATTER of cow-hidt
boots, he halted and cast an inquirina
glance around the circle occupying .hC
benches in front of the fire. Mr.. Bog'ey
the landlord of the Eagle, arose, nodded
and said:
Good even'n. SURF
"IIeow dye dew? BE yew the landlord
o. this house:"
s.Ies-r"
"Want t'knOw? Reckon yew conldn'
keep . fellow hur. nor give him a lite O
suthin' fur supper, could yer?
'.Yes-r."
eye mean 20 say ye kin-bcd an break
fast:'
yes T."
"Gol darn glad to hear ont an If yol
kin jist mix Teller suthin hot an stron.
with a good deal q rum int an but lettl'
water, it'll do me amazin' sight o good"
"Yesr."
"While the landlord was preparing hi
rum the stranger stood in front of the bar
with the pack still or his back, evidcntl,
bent on seeing that the correct thing wa
done in the rum and water mingling TheI
having imbibed a regular shorter, he ask
ed the landlord to assist in removing hi
pack. This being done, he was abou
handing his carpet bag over TO the land
lord TO put it behind the bar, when h,
caught sight of an immense rent in it, anC
therefrom protruded the corners of article
of clothing within it. The instant he mad,
the discovery. the carpet bag fell from hi
hands, his jaw dropped, and for a few sec
onds he stood the very image of despair
At length he reused himself, and strikin:
his clcnched fist against his forehead, h,
howlcd, in voice of heart-rending agony
Ruined ruined. ruined. Teetotally
busted in smash, One hundred and sixty
acres Of the best land that ever lay OUT
door, all ripped all to flinders, Oh, Sarc
Ann, little knowest that we art a RUNE,
lbusted family, Little YOU thinkcst thor
art beggar, Oh, Jercwsalem. IIeov
shill | ever meet you. since this destruc
ton hev bin wroughted? Arer all ON
skrimpin', an skrewin'. an pinchin', an
twistin' arer scllIn' old Barry an the steers
arter selliD' the tew-year old heller an .h'
nine shOats, an artcr thou, Sarer Ann. go
in to church in caliler, we're busted fam
lily, Oh, Jerewsaiem, All is lost-gon,
| in a mint? Oh, heOw lettle Jed, an Sare
Ann, ken meet yeou:'
The outburst from the tall Yankee tool
us all by surprise. We could not imagine
what had happened to cause so mucl
alarm and grief, for the tears were flowing
plen;ifully down his brown weather beateI
cheeks
"What in the world has hap opened to
you, sir, TO cause YOU so much distress
You are certainly not lamenting at Thu
rate over that rent in your carpet bag?
asked |, advancing TO where the Yankee
stood.
"Oh, no. no, Holy Jerewsalem, ef'twa.
nOthin' else but that. Oh, murder, Inur
der-I dasent hardly think omit There
poor lettle Sarer Ann, feelin' so proud, an
talkin' to poor Jed about our fine new home
in the prairies. Jest like me an her ust e
dew, an oh; Jewdas. is hull quarter sec
ton OF the nealcst lana in Iowa, gOn tC
eternal smash"
The poor fellows feelings now complete
ly mastered him, and he hid his face il
his hands and sobbed like a child. Hi
last words, however, gave me a clue to tn,
mystery, and taking up his carpet bag com
menced hauling out shirts, vests and hand
kerchicfs, all thoroughly water-soakei, ill
at the bottom l found a carefully rolled
bundle.
Mr.. Yankee now controlled his gric
and stood near, with his hands on hi
knees, bending over me in breathless sus
pense. Unrolling hickory shirt, / found
within that handkerchief, carefully pinn
ed, and within 1t a package done up in ;
newspaper. On opening the newspaper
found what / he'd expected to find from
the first, viz: land warrant for l60 acre!
OF Government land, all snug and dry.
1t is almost useless tn attempt to describ,
the extravagant joy of the Yankee.
The moment he saw that his land war
rant was safe and sound, he gave perfect
howl Of delight, and snatching it from my
| fingers, he pressed it to his bosom, as h,
might have done Sarer Ann had she beer
present, and with tremendous strides h,
icommenced pacing back and forth acros.
the room. 1t seemed impossible to hin
to be still an instant.
"Glory to God.'' cried he; "glory to the
most high. Sarer Ann, all our savin' an
scrimpin amt in vain, Go on with youl
tork-plan an kalkerlate. Take little JED
on yer knee an sing. In the ev'nin' wher
you 70 out to milk, look to'rd where tho
sun is goin' an think-thar have hap
py home. Your Phelegs thar; he'll hav,
tho land and be happy vet. The steers j.