Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1874-10-24

bushy, white eyebrows that shadeo
deep set pair Of shrinking brow
eyes, he looked as much like the po
ct Longfellow as any man l have ev
er seen-the features of prophet
and the eyes of child. His atten
ton was drawn to my approach by
the cracking of the dry branchei
which lay around, and looking up
he bade me polite "good evening"
"Will you let me light my pipe
from your fre?" 1 asked.
Half unconsciously he stripped &
little twig and put it into the flame
with quiet certainly"
took the taper from his hand.
and in exchange offered my tobacco
pouch-a courtesy that is always ex.
tended on the frontier when two
people meet-as much a matter of
etiquette as shaking hands in the
Estates"
''No, thank you," he SAID with a
shake of the head, 81 seldom use it. u
81 hope you don't object to the
odor, for l wanted to sit by your
fire and smoke till my supper was
ready"
'Not at ALL" he replied, with a
wave of the hand that would have
delighted Chesterfield; "make your
self as comfortable as possible" and
he arose, renewed the wood and tax
ing camp kettle, hung it on the
tripod.
''They tell me your the Oldest
man on these plains. Have you ever
been down this way before?'
"In '55,'' he said, quietly, 81 went
out with Harvey, and our trail was
fifty miles south of this-we went
around the foot of the Black Hills
and up the Cheyenne; ;"and in answer
to other questions, he told me brief
ly and politely that for forty-one
years he had been between the North
ern Mississippi and the Rocky Noun
tains. His language was grammati-
cal and well pronounced; his voice
was soft and musical-so soft some
times that it tried my ear to catch
his meaning. His manner was of
man who is being bored, and whose
good breeding wouldn't allow him
to show it. But 1 kept at him, lead
ing the conversation into different
channels; and occasionally placing
him in position where his polite
ness compelled him to reply; till he
got quite sociable, and touching on
that singular taste that led men into
nOmadic lives like his, he said with
good deal of fervor:
"You don't know how it is, my
friend: the open air and a team of
mules is as much to my taste as your
city home to you. l couldn't breathe
in city. l have been on the plains
forty-one years, and now and then 1
have vowed that l would quit it, but
before my team was embarrassed I'd
be anxious to get off again."
"But you are getting pretty old
for the business"
eyes, Pm old-sixty-four last Jan
uary-but Pm tougher than most
of the young fellows. I-don't sup
pose | shall hold out much longer,
though, and Pm goin back to the
States once more before l die; this.
fall, if have good lnck. l amt been
in the States since 80, and I've got
some friends l amt heard from for
nine years now, and maybe it won't
do much good to go down yonder;
but I'd like to see how the things
look. There were only three bridg-
es over the Schuylkill when was
there last, and now they tell me
there's one at almost every street"
"Were you from Philadelphia" 1
asked.
eyes. 1 ran away from home in
Philadelphia when l was nine years
old, and went into the western part
of the State, and worked for nigh
seven years; then / went back home
and worked under the very same
roof with my mother, she tending
dairy and 1 doing chores, and she
didn't know me all that time. I staid
there a year or two and then I came
West, and hereabouts Pve been-at
Sioux City, Fort Dodge, and all
around-teaming and trading with
the Indians ever since, and 1 couldn't
leave it now."
F'But it seems queer to me-" sug-
gested, "that man can live so long
in such way without wife and
family"
81 have no family, but Ewas mar.
ried once ] lost my wife some
years ago." and he rubbed his eyes,
saying something about smoke and
alkali dust. Then he got up and
moved around restlessly, took the
Kettle off the hooks, and lifted the
lid. The old man had dug down in
to his memory as far as he dare go.
He did not sit down again, but kept
busying himself in the preparation
of his meal, and l hadn't the heart
to ask him any more questions. Who
was the Congressman that stole
his love away no one seems to know,
but everybody seems aware of the
fact, and all agree it was no man of
national reputation. Sometime, per-
haps Buckskin Joe's secret will be
given to the woodland the reason
of his strange melancholy told.
One is continually meeting such
men in frontier life-men who have
found the civilized world too small
for them-too crowded. They are
generally intelligent, and have the
air of well-bred gentlemen, but nm
derlying their strange taste and in
clination there seems in almost ev-
cry case some sacred motive-too
sacred for the world to know and
meddle with.
The number of land onwners in
England is growing clearly less year
after year. Little less than two
centuries ago it was about 100000