Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1874-04-02
DAisy's MISSION.

Hel.~ROarng Bar was neither a
pretty nor euphonious name, nor a
reverential one: but, considering the
character of it's jewellers, it was an
exceedingly fitting one for the locality
that bore it. A six months residence
there convinced ME SO thoroughly of
this fact I could not conscientiously
have changed a single letter of the
name, even had | possessed the power
| to do so. Not that it savored of sui
phnrous odors; not that the roarings
Of its apparent patron saint were ever
heard echoing among the canons that
encompasscd it, it was peerless among
all the mining camps l had ever visited
in California.
I was sent there in the summer Of
1858 by San Francisco firm, to close
out business that was drifting into
involuntary bankruptcy, and long
dusty ride found ME there early in June
Of that year. A view of the camp from
the mountain had not impressed me
tavorably with it, and a nearer acquain
lance only confirmed that impression;
| but, like q halt-reluctant bridegroom,
had resolved to take it for "better or
worse" with but slight hope, however,
that ii would prove any better than it
looked.
"Helo deacon what do you want
in Hell Roarin Preachers don't stand
much show in these diggins. You ain t
wanted !; better git"
This was my greeting. l had inst
alighted from my mule, tired and out
OF humor, and felt half inclined to re-
sent the brusqne, uamanne,ly salutation
but did not 1t was not a conscious
ne fthe truth that Quoted NE for my
appearance was certainly slightly
clerical True, had a perfect right
to differ in opinion with the speaker,
for of a verify this was just the plac,.
where preachers were wanted, and Just
the place where they should stay; but,
making no professions of godliness, |
held my tongue for a moment. | looked
up; brawny and powerful figure con
tronted me, and prudently held my
temper. I replied blandly that ex
pcc,ed to remain their awhile, and
suggested, with all meekness, that
appearances were sometimes deceittul
Soon the Bar was agog with curiosity,
and q crowd gathered And such a
crowd Great broad shoudered fellows.
dirty and unshaved, deeply marked
| with chronic dissipation, whose every
second word was an oath; striplincs,
whose tongues were volubly impu1ent
and early trained to blasphemy in imi
tation of their elders, gathered. round
while I unsaddled my mule in so
awkward manner as to excite deri sion
These people weighed everything, like
their gold dust, in their own scales, and
measured by their standard, was re
garded as worthless imposter I had
''store clothes on, and this fact alone
was too much for the mixed conven
tionalism OF the Bar Buckskin and
gray flannel assumed dignity in early
times among the .shonest miners" more
unyielding, more exacting, than purple
and fine linen. My ''boiled shirts" was
considered an infraction, and therefore
the Bar was afronted. deacon" was
echoed from mouth to mouth. Bot
were offered aud freely taken that i
was psalm singer; a gambler, with a
dead thing" or ''waxed keerds." a
lawyer; a doctor; anything but horse
jockey or gentleman. Although
nettled With the uneourteous reception
could not afford to fall out with ny
new neighbors. Beating my dusty hat
against my knee with well assumed
swagger, | turned quietly and asked il
the Bar was dry. And the Bar aoas
dry.
| With whoop the crowd adjourned
to the saloon : a rickety, clap trap in
| stitution, furnished with a few stools
and rough tables-and the Bar drank
first with myself; then with Joe Miles
proprietor; then with the bluff individ
dal who had first accosted me. Press
ing through the crowd, he held out hi
big, rough hand. and taking mine, b
led me toward with some thing OF a
triumphant air.
"Boys." he said I take it all back
This is my old skipper; come out will
him in ~. He amt no preacher-h
spends his money like man, and don
whine. Any one that don't like him
call on Bill Thorp. That's mel Let
ltake suaAiu I