The Andrew County Republican. [volume] (Savannah, Mo.) 1871-1876, 1874-01-09
BILL EMIRES STEERS.
BY MACK DUFF.


s'pose you didn't never know Bill
Smikes? Well, he used to live down on
the Plugtown road, ON little eight-by-
ten farm, where he used to worry out a
living for himself and dame by main
strength.
He was curious-looking old fellow
his head was as shiny as billiard ball,
all except two little top-knots that
started down on the back of his neck,
which he carefully gathered up from
each side and tied in double bow-knot
on the top of his head. His nose was
of fearful dimensions, slightly of the
Roman order, and the loss of his teeth
set his chin up in the air, and when he
talked, which was pretty much all the
time, that nose and chin kept dabbing
at each other like two fighting cocks.
His eyes took the rag off the bush,
though. One was light gray, and the
other dark blue, and they stood
straight out like the horns of yearling
steer. When one was looking straight
at you the other would be roaming
around, and seemed to be looking for
something that had got lost. He was
bumped up pretty well in the back, and
always wore pair of bag breeches with
"Stark A, seamless" on the seat, and
patch of leather on the inside of each
knee to protect the parts that struck to-
gether every time he stepped.
Bills crowning glory was yoke of
stays that was filed with more pure
cnssedness than any pair of circus mules
you ever saw. These degraded animals
were at once the pride of their owner
and the terror of the neighberhood.
About every time Smikes yoked them
he, got throwed higher than Gilderoy's
kite, and about three times week the
old lady would have to get ladder and
take William down from tree that
stood convenient to the m-yard The
off steer had siinmered the thing down
to such fine point that by toss he
could hang old Bill to limb twenty
feet from the ground by the seat of
those bag breeches, and they never gave
way, sir-never and Bill got so he liked
it. If he didn't get hooked over the
fence, or kicked down and trod on, and
a rib or two broken, he got mad.
One day, Smikes wanted to plow some
corn, so he made some muzzles, and,
with the help of three of his neighbors,
they shared the steers and ruzzled
them. Then he yoked them as usual,
fixed some lines to guide them with,
hitched them to shovel plow, put
the lines over his shoulder and started
out. --..-.-..---
The old lady, with heart filed with |
anguish, tear in her eye and good
cudgel in her hand, stood in the back |
door to watch the progress the old man !
made.
The first ronnd was n series of yells |
on the part of the old man and a series
of jumps and plunges on the part of the
steers, the whole iDterspersed with some |
plain talk from the party of the first
part. When he got through, about a
quarter of the row was standing. Then
the old man sat down and swore. The |
old lady came out to pacify him, and
her entrance into the back door was con-
siderably hastened by cobble stone
that lay near Smikes. Then he jumped
mp and started again. On the way |
down they slung him around till his
body came in contact with an apple tree |
in whose branches hung a hornets nest
about as big as the blue patch on the
old mans breeches. In about a minute
Bill, the oxen, plow, and everything else
was covered with cloud of hornets. |
The steers stuck up their tails and let |
themselves ont. Bill would willingly |
have let them go their way, but the lines
around bis shoulders held him prisoner,
and first him and then the shovel pillow
would fly up i'll the air, lighting first
one side and then the other. Every
time they came around by the house the
old lady would yell, Why don't you
let go, William" This made Bill
madder than ever, and he wished the
old lady in his place. After knocking
down about five acres of corn, spelling
Bills garden and nursery, they knocked
down ten panels of fence and fell i'll the
ditch. They were captured by band
of the neighbors, and Mr.. Smikes
placed under the doctors care.
That was years ago. Bill is rcry
old man now. He does not do much,
but on pleasant afternoons he takes his
chair out on the shady side of the house
and sits there honr after hour and
cusses all horned cattle of every descrip-
tion, and more especially those internal
steers.
The appointment of Caleb Gushing |
as Minister TO Spain, vice Gen. Sickles,