The state rights democrat. [volume] (Albany, Linn County, Oregon) 1865-1900, 1869-12-24
AN ECCENTRIC CHARACTER.

One of the most marked personages
of old Windham county was q certain
revolutionary pensioner by the name
of Lincoln-surnamed Jones, | be-
lieve. Living in an adjoining town,
he was yet well known in Lebanon,
where he had frequently visited. In
deed he was never at rest except when
tramping around and stirring about.
He was n harmless, good-natured cider
drinking, storytelling old fellow,
whom everybody was glad to see,
bored with, chatted with, laughed at
and pitied, for he was alone III the
world, sad condition, which Le,
however, took very philosophically,
consoling himself by sagely comment
ing on the ills which married men and
heads of families are heir to.
Though usually idle and vagabond-
ish In his habits, he was a man of
wonderful energy and perseverance
when once his spirit was up. On one
occasion, when he had extended n
ramble to the vicinity of Hartford, he
found himself at the ferry, opposite
the city, without shilling in his pock-
ct. He proposed to the ferryman TO
allow him free passage, promising to
pay on the next visit. But the Yam
kee Charon refused with a churlish
No. mister, l don't take you nor any
other tramp for nothin. So down
with your rhino or clear cot.
"Waal, then" exclaimed the old
soldier, ''you 90 to thunder with your
old skeow / won't be beholden to
you nor anybody of your sort, for I'll
just go reound yer darned old river
see if / don't. -
The ferryman laughed at what he
considered an idle threat but some
weeks later he was accosted at the
city landing by the same red-cheeked
roughly-clad old soldier, who triumph
antly exclaimed:
''Waal / have been reound your old
river, and here I am in spite of yeow
old skinfiint
It proved that he had actually per
formed the exploit of following the
Connecticut river to It's head-of go
ing round it, in fact, with no other in
centive than the desire to show him
self independent of the ferryman.
On another occasion he applied for
the loan of scythe at the house OF
a neighbor, who was bridge-builder.
I'm rally sorry, Mr.. Lincoln" said
the wife of the mechanic, "that I can't
accommodate ye but my husband
amt to hum, ye see, and he says to me
just before he went away: Betsy,
says he, don't yeou lend nothin o1
mine to nobody, not on no account,
while I am gone So, Mr.. Lincoln,
l can't let that scythe go, not even tc
you.
"Why, whereabouts is your hus.
band, marin 2"
"Oh, he's way down in Pennsylva-
ny, buildin bridge.
"Waal, / guess if I go down tc
where he's to work, and get his con.
sent, ye'll lend me that are scythe?''
"Sartin, Mr.. Lincoln. But, mar
alive, what on airth do ye mean?
tell you he's way down in Pennsyl
yany r
The old soldier laughed in his droll
knowing way, then questioned her al
to the exact locality of her husband'i
bridge-building operations, and tool
his leave.
That very afternoon he departed OIL
one of his "grand towers" with onl,
change of linen, tied in blue-check
ed handkerchief, hanging from sticl
over his shoulder, and whistling cheer
ily as he left the dull old town behint
him.
About ten days or fortnight late
he appeared before the astonished me
chanic, exclaiming:
''Hullo Billins, will you lend you
Iscythe for spell? That are wife c
Iyourn won't let it go without you sa
SO. Got her pretty well under you
thumb, hain't ye? Or, mebbe she
afeard to cut friendship tween he
and me by lendin an edged tool"
i Ten days later, Mrs. Billins was OF
tonished to see her eccentric neighbo
lappear, all dusty and trayel-worn, q
her door, and to hear him say, quietly
eyes, ma'am, yer man says may tax
that ar scythe, and it's time that littl
lmedder of mine is moved"
Il