Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1872-08-29
Mumuruns department.
A NEVADA FUNERAL.

shaw when he died. He was representative
citizen. He had "killed his man." not in his
own quarrel, it is true, but in the defense of a
stranger beset by numbers. He had kept a
sumptuous saloon. He had been the propri-
etor of dashing helpmeet whom he could
have discarded without the formality OF dl-
vorce. He had held high position in the
fire department, and had been very War
wick in politics. When he died there was a
great lamentation throughout the town, but
especially in the vast bottom stratum of So
ciety.
On the inquest it was shown that Buck
Fanshaw, in the delirium of a wasting typhoid
fever, had taken arsenic, shot himself through
the body, cut his throat, and jumped out of a
four-story window and broke his neck and
after due elaboration, the jury, sad and tear
full, but with intelligence unblinded by its
sorrow, brought in verdict Of death "by the
visitation of God" What could the world
do without juries? 80,
Prodigious preparations were made for the
funeral. All the vehicles in town were hired,
all the saloons were put in mourning, all the
municipal and fire company flags were hung
at half mast, and all the iremen ordered to
muster in uniform, and bring their machines
draped in black.
Regretful resolutions were passed and va
rious committees appointed among others a
committee of one was appointed to call on a
minister-a fragile, gentle spiritual new Aedg-
ling from an eastern theological seminary,
and as yet unacquainted with the ways of the
mines. The committeeman, "Scotty" Briggs,
made his visit.
Being admitted to his presence, he sat
down before the clergyman, placed his fire
hat on an unfinished manuscript sermon un-
der the minister's nose, took from it red silk
handkerchief, wiped his brow, and heaved a
sigh of dismal impressiveness explanatory of
his business. He choked and even shed tears,
but with an effort he mastered his voice, and
said, in lugubrious tones:
care you the duck that runs the gospel
mill next door p
cam I the-pardon me, believe I do not
understand"
With another sigh and half sob, Scotty
rejoined:
"Why, you see, we are in bit of trouble,
and the boys thought may be you'd give us a
lift if we'd tackle to you, that is, if I've got
the rights of it, and you're head clerk Of the
doxology works next door,"
II am the shepherd in charge of the flock
whose fold is next door,"
"The which,"
"The spiritual adviser of the little flock of
believers whose sanctuary adjoins these prem
ises"
Scotty scratched his head and reflected
moment and then said:
"You rather hold over me, pard. reckon
I can't call that card. Ante and pass the
buck"
"How? beg your pardon. What did I
understand you to say?"
"Well, you've rather got the bulge on me.
Or may be we've both got the bulge, somehow.
You don't smoke ME, and don't smoke you.
You see one Of the boys has passed in his
checks, and we want to give him good send
of, and so the thing I'm on now is to rout
out somebody to jerk little chin music for
US and waltz him through handsome"
"My friend, seem to grow more and more
bewildered. Your observations are wholly
incomprehensible to me. Cannot you simpli-
fly them some way? At first thought per-
haps I understood you, but now 1 grope
Would it not expedite matters if you restrict
ed yourself to categorical statement of facts
unincumbered with obstructing accumulations
of metaphor and allegory?"
Another pause and more reflection. Then
Scotty said:
"Ill have to pass, I judge"
"How?"
"You've raised me out, pard."
81 still fail to catch your meaning"
"Why, that last lead of yourn is too many
for me-thats the idea. I can neither trump
nor follow suit"
The clergyman sank back in his chair per-
picked. Scotty leaned his head on his hand,
and gave himself up to reflection. Presently
his face came up, sorrowful but confident.
"I've got it now, SOS you can savvy," said
he. What we want is gospel-sharp. See?
"a what?"
"Gospel-sharp, parson."
20! why did you not say so before? l
am clergyman-a parson."
"Now you talk You see my blind and
straddle it like man. Put it there !"-ex-
tending brawny paw, which closed over the
minister's small hand and gave it shake in
dicative of fraternal sympathy and fervent
qualification.
"Now we are all right, pard. Let's start
fresh. Don't you mind me snufaing little,
becuz we are in power of trouble. You see
one of the boys has gone up the fume-"
"Gone where?"
"Up the -throw'd up the sponge,
you know"
"Thrown up the sponge?"
"Yes-kicked the bucket"
"Ah-has departed to that mysterious
country from whose bourne no traveller re-
turns"
"Return? Well, reckon not. Why,
pard, he's dead"
eyes, understand"
20, you do? Well, I thought may be you
might be getting tangled once more. Yes,
you see he's dead again"
"Agaia! Why has he ever been dead be-
fore?"
"Dead before? No. Do you reckon man
has got as many lives as cat? But you bet,
he's awful dead now, poor old boy, and 1 wish
I'd never seen this day. I don't know no
better friend than Buck Fanshaw. Iknow'd
him by the back, and when I know man
like him freeze to him-you hear me. Take
him all around, pard, there never was bull
lier man in the mines. No man ever knowed
Buck Fanshaw to 60 back on friend. But
it's all up, you know; it's all up. 1t amt no
use They've scooped him."
''Scooped him?"
"Yes-death has. Well, we'll, we'll, we've
got to give him up. Yes, indeed. It's kind
Of hard world, after all, ain'tit? But, pard,
he was rustler. You ought to see him get
started once. He was bully boy with
q