Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-11-05

Good-by, sir" said he, taking his
hand of his hip to put it in mine, and
was gone down the ladder in an instant
thereafter.
By this time Bill was in the saddle in
no very good humor; and as | went down
the side of the dump I said:
"Good-by, Andrew If you come to
our place. bring your knitting and sit
awhile"
= will" said he, through his torrent of
cachlnnatlons. By gol, l will, and a
There" said Bill, as we rode down
the trail, hes got enough to keep him
/ laughin' a week. But that George!-I
don't go much on him. He looks like a
/ cracked preacher-one of them kind
what thinks as God Almighty made the
! world for saints, and he's one of 'em,
and mad because he can't get more'p his
share. That's the way Ia put him up ::
provided he's not got regular crazy. Go
on. Sanch! Git"
Bill, my boy, did it ever occur to YOU
that it is a terrible charge on a sensitive
| person to cry out crazy?' after him. as
he passes through life? Call him a rogue,
a thief, sWIndler, villain, or fool if
! you must; Tor these charges he can settle
IN his own way when he hears them; but
/ TINS charge that ones mind is affected is
| something winch rests in the estimation
OF the public, and is practically true or
| not true, as the public sees fit to receive
1t. The sOundnesS of ones mind is like
! the price OF greenbacks-a matter of
| opinion; no odds how we'll secured, that
rises or falls with the public pulse There
is no surveyed boundary between SANITY
and insanity. How do YOU know that
you are of sound mind?"
How do l know?"
eyes"
Well, [ know-because I've got good
hOrse-sense, anyway. l eat when I'm
hungry, drink when I'm dry, rest when
tired, work hard when l can't do any bet
ter, sleep when I'm sleepy, and take nv
self in out of the wet that's what I call
sound minded"
Yes, so far as it goes. But how about
your ambition, wherein you imagine YOUR
self wealthy from finding a great mine :;
rolling in your carriage; ENJOYING the fine
things of life, and the batteries of the
fair, the foolish and the false? Do YOU
| never dream with your eyes wide open
of being a great fellow-a 'big-up ca
pit-u-al-ist,' as you call it,"
Certainly. believe every man is to
nave HIS SIrGdkS OF luck.
Then, William, you are dreamer
we are all dreamers; and dreams are
made of 'perilous stuff When a man
dreams in full waking state his horse
sense slips away from him into a cloud,
and he is partly out of his mind He
| may, from this state, 60 all the way out.
or he may return to his Hhorse-sense'
The floating cloud-land between sanity
ItTr nd re- ~ 4
boundary"
Then how's fellow to know he's got
sound sense?" asked Bill, with tired-of-
| the-discussiOn expression, as we rode
across the gray valley.
He can't know. 1t is the public-the
COG p0puli-which puts the value on the
soundness of sense. That is why all new
doctrines are first resisted then ridicu4ed
then examined, then stolen. The public
itself is not often sure of its own wits. In
Utah it is sensible to see angels and hear
voices from heaven. In Boston, Mass,
it is sensible to worship your own intel
lect. In Nevada and in California it is
the height of good sense to worship the
power of money. 1t is wisdom in China
to bow before ones fathers ghost; in
Japan, before Buddha; in India, before
Brahma; in Rome, before the Pope; in
Mecca, before black stone. So you see
that any sense above 'horse-sense' is a
risky and uncertain property in the
worlds market. Like q ball of quick
silver, it has weight, color power and
great brilliancy; but it is liable to roll
away from you, at any moment, in a
! thousand glittering pieces"
Bill made no answer in the pause |
left open for him, so | added:
That man, back yOnder at the mine,
is dreamer, Bill; and whatever his
dream, sad or happy, it weighs upon
him, and makes MIN stranger in all the
real world-in the 'horse-sense' congre-
cation, mean"
WE'LL" said Bill, throwing away his
studying-cap, course him! let him
dream it out. I'll not trouble him again
soon"
The conversations between William
Wilson and myself, as we rode, day after
day, across broken mountains and gray,
streamless valleys, were to us twain in
| teresting enough, but need not, there
fore, be of interest to other people. And
yet, though | do say it myself, we made
some pretty sharp remarks on a great
variety of subjects; into which William
at times threw his unbOOkish mind with
startling effect. Upon one occasion he
"got of" as he called it, his opinion of
talk"
"Some fellows" he said, care always
putting up that talk is cheap butt say
talk is precious at twenty to the pan.
Blab is cheap; but the first thing in my
mothers old Bible is talk: God SAID
let there be- and them words started off
into the darkness and slumgullion of
4 c+11f
crops, and leaves, and flowers, and bust
ness generally"
Why, William, you're poet!"
"Not much! / despise poetry. But
good sound talk set the world going,
and keeps her humming on the pin
| I'd like to know what would be the use
if people couldn't talk-or didn't talk!
| I'd as soon be a bump on a log as not
TO be able to talk When q fellow SAYS
to me: ooh, it's all TALK [ say: You
bet your life it isn Newspapers and
books is talk Law and gospel is talk.
Money is talk, done up in tens and
'twenties; take the talk out OF it, and it's
nothing"
Thus, one way or another, we Whiled
away the journey back to town; where l
| left William, and proceeded about my
| business, far away from the high alti-
tudes and dry valleys of Nevada.
Some months later I returned to find
the town in one Of those mining feYers
which invariably follow the discovery Of
rich silver ores. Picking up the lively
little daily newspaper from the clerks
counter at the hotel where Istopped, and
glancing over 1t, my eyes fell upon the
| following:
| RICH STRIKE IN THE SILVER CHAMBER
Wires, ropes, spangles, fiecks, and cakes Of
| silver! Chloride ores, by tons and tons, all
! thrnnrh the mine. with rich sulnhnrets al the