New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1875-12-12
The Name of "Mother,, -

The Name of ..Iother,,,
Old Job Dawson had been duly elected
to fill the responsible position of Justice
of the peace, and this was the first case
which had demanded his attention. job
was an old veteran mountaineer, and had
lived in the shadow of the LOFTY peaks,
hunting, trapping and fighting Indians, to
use his own words, Sense Adam war kid I"
In that rough region an accusation of a
great crime against any one is but fore
runner of changing bee." and a trial even
is seldom thought of. But in the present
instance wild ''cuss" who had been fire.
quenting the settlements had appropriated
"broncho" Indian pony belonging to a
neighbOring ranchman, and had been pur-
sued, captured and brought back. Old job
was summoned to try the culprit, and a spot
in rocky gulch near the 'squire's cabin
was selected as the site for the investiga-
ton. A motley crowd of hunters, trappers,
miners and rancheros had assembled. Some
were lying upon the ground and others sit
ting upon the rocks, all anxiously awaiting
the 'squire's coming. Job soon came from
toward his cabin, and with dignified air
seated himself upon a boulder, took off his
bear-skin cap, and said:
"Fellers,- the court ar ready to git down
to biz, an want We all to cheese yer racket
an let up on that chin music according to
law. Throw yer ha'r in sight and pay
'tention to the court"
Every hat came off at his command. and
"His Honor glancing around the circle,
said:
"Whar is the dam cussl'
Three mountaineers armed with Henry
rifles and six-shooters stepped Onward with
the thief, young man, wearing bold,
devil-may.care expression. His hands were
securely fastened behind his back with
buckskin thongs. Clad in buckekin from
head to foot, he presented picturesque ap-
pearance as he faced the squire.
Wat do they call you when yer at
homer asked the court.
parte," sullenly replied the prisoner.
''Ain't, hey! Well, watts the name YOU
TUX wen you lett the States, then!'
The boys hyer on the hills call me Tiger
jim"
''Wall, Tige, yer spotted as boss thief,
an I reckon thar's sumthin' in it or the
boys wudn't brought you in. You can't
expect toney trial like you'd get down to
Laramie or in eny of them towns along the
road. We hewitt eny paper, pens or ink, or
envy o. that sort O. foolishness up hyer in the
hills, an thar amt one O. us as could engi-
neer 'em eff we had, SO we'll jist grind her
through, an do the best we kin for you. In
the name O. the law now ak you did you
collar tibet hoss-out stop er rite thar, dog
gone it; l forgot to swar you. Cum mitey
near forgittin' it. Hold up yer right han'"
Hold up nuthn'. How kin when they'r
tied titer'n blszes7"
eny member O. the body III be 'cording to
law in 'xtreme cases. Stedey him little,
fellers, SOS he kin hold up his right foot. !"
"Tige" raised his moccasin-covered foot,
while a guard on each side held him in DO
sition.
"Now. then, can't fly on them ar law
yers' atfydavys, but I'll make her stout
enutf to hold Mexican mule. Tiger jim
do you swar by the holy Moses. accordin
every time We chip into my racket VII give
us the squar' truth. An Ell you don't do
hope that We may git chawed up by a
grizzly, chopped TO pieces by Sioux, strung
up to pine with rope 'roun' yer dam
thievin' neck an fail to connect on heaven
wen yer lite goes out, to the best o yer un.
derstandin', as provided by law, s'help yer
God, eh 7"
'Thats jist wat does, pardy."
Now. Tige, yer under oath, an ev'ry
time yer speak yer want ter hit the bulls
eye. Did you nip tibet hossl"
'Wall, Uncle Job, there's no use O. lyip'
about it an I'll tell you jist how it war.
Las night you know thar war ja.nboree
over to AL. Wilkins rancho in Miller's gulch
Oh wal tudr' al uhu Diu III 10 Laramie
City and got key O. good old bulge, an
we all got purity full. AFTER the dancin'
war over pulled out fur Bowles' rancho,
whsr I'm hangin' out, an as was stag
germ down round Mountain Cat Hill runs
right onto the broncho that war picketed
out in the grass, an war jist drunk enough
to mount him an lite out know I'm gon'
to swing fur it an Ill die game, too. l
amt worth cuss anyway an eff 1t warn't
fur my good old mother back in the
States there the tears began TO roll down his
bronzed cheeks) who never closes her
eyes thout prayin' fur God to send me back
to her, liz ,sugh at death. an help ye to fix
the rope, but when think O. that darling
old soul l git weaker ma wounded ante.
lope. ! tell ye tellars I've bin tutf cuss
ever sense l struck out for these mountins,
and l s'pose the world'll be better 'thout
me in it. My old mother'l suffer, know
that, fur l'm her only kid. an hev sent her
every ounce O. dust that could spare, an
its all she's he'd to live on. She's bin good
'un to me, God bless her, an I'm sorry
hewitt lived SOS l can camp with her up
Heaven, and; boys. won't some O. We write
to her. Tom Kirk thar knows whar she
lives. an tell her l got let out by an IpjuD,
or pegged out naturally. For Gods sake
don't let her know war strangled. The
news 'ud kill her. But then I'll cheese this
CAB or yell think I'm weakening, an the
man don't live as can skeer Tiger Jim. Ell.
evate me, boys, jist as quick as ye please.
I'm ready when lou are"
During this recital Jims eyes were filed
with tears, and close observer would have
detected silent weeping on all sides. That
magic word "mother" had awakened ten
der recollectiOns in the breasts of every one
of those hardy m0untaineers. Men who
could face death in any shape without
particle OF feeling did not try to hide their
tears at the mention of that sacred name,
mother! How sweet it sounded in their
ears. 1t carried them back to the happy
days in the past, when they were blessed
with the love of parents, before the in
satiable thirst for gold had led them into
these mountain wilds. Not word was
spoken for few seconds, and then old Job
drew his horny hand across his watery ewes
and said in q husky voice:
yel'
"No, Job Dawson, not for friend or foe.
Thar amt boy in the hills as can say that
Jim ever went back on even his given word. |
I'm rough ,un an do sum mitey wicked |
.hings, but when l say thing ye can gam |
Die every dollar you've got on it bein' |
straight"
"Wall, Tige. we had intended to swing
re, an ye deserve swingln', but l can't get |
i'd o. that mother chinin' We give us. /
spect the old lady's set her heart on SEEM |
70 agin, an is wearing her old eyes out |
ookin' for We. I've got an old mother my
'elf, an tho I hewitt sot eyes on |
Ter sence '49 her picter's right hyar
n my heart, an It's q plesdin' for
7our old 'ooman, Tige. It's ruff, Tge, ruff, |
n'--lemme see-yes, darned of don't |