St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1878-02-22
Ben Holidays Nose.

While travelling In Washington
train recently with a number of ac-
quaintances old Ben Holiday became
unusually communicative. He climbed
the Rocky Mountains, waded through
the Great Salt Lake, jumped across the
Black Canon of the Colorado, danced
in the Death Valley, cooked grizzlies in
the Yellowstone geysers, scudded down
the Shoshone Falls, and told a score of
stories so thrilling that the hair of his
hearers arose in protest. One of his
yarns was both startling and amusing.
One night, said he, long before the
Pacific Railroad was built, was bOunc-
ing over the plains in one of my over
land coaches. My wife was with me.
She was sick, and lay asleep on the bot
tom of the stage on a bed of buffalo
skins. The night was fearfully dark
and drizzling rain was falling. Mrs.
Holiday and myself were the only
passengers. Several stages had been
robbed within two months, and the
driver was ripping along as though a
gang of prairie wolves were after him.
Suddenly the horses were thrown on
their launches and the stage stopped.
[ was heaved forward, but quickly re-
covered, and found myself gazing at the
muzzles of double barreled shot gun.
By the dim light of the stage lamps the
barrels looked as big as nail kegs.
'.Throw up your hands and don't
STIR" shouted the owner of a gruff voice.
Up went my hands, and l began to
commune with myself. | saw that he
did not know who l was, and l was
afraid my sick wife might awake and
call me by name. My coat was button
ed over my bosom, but hardly high
enough to hide a magnificent emerald
that cost me over eight thousand dol
lars a few weeks before in San Fran
cisco. l hardly breathed through fear
that the light might strike the stone,
and its brilliancy attract the attention
of the robber. l had about forty thous-
and dollars in money belt close to the
skin, and several hundred dollars in my
pocket.
Suddenly my friend shouted, "COme,
shell out, ID quick, or I'll send the
devil free lunch"
Ipassed out few hundred loose in
my pockets and handed him my gold
watch and chain. They were hefty, l
think the chain alone would weigh five
pounds at least.
"There," said l, "here's every cent
I've got. Take it and let me go on.
My wife is very sick, and l don't know
what would happen to her if she knew
what was going on"
keep your hands up" was the re-
ply, while a second rObber received the
watch and money. Then search was
made for the express company's box,
but the double barreled shot gun did
not move. Its muzzles were within a
foot of my nose. For my life did not
dare to stir. My nose began to itch.
The stiff hairs of my mustache got up
one after another and tickled it until
the sensation was intolerable. l could
stand it no longer.
STRANGER" cried, 81 must scratch
my nose. 1t itches so that | am almost
crazy"
"Move your hands" he shouted, "and
I'll blow a hole through your head big
enough for jack rabbit to jump thro."
l appealed once more. "Well," he
answered, keep your hands still, and
I'll scratch it for you. l hate to see a
partner suffer-"
"Did he scratch it ?" asked one of
Ben's interested listeners.
"Sure," said Mr.. Holiday.
GLOW 2" asked the breathless listen
er.
"With the muzzle of the cooked gun, y
said the great Overlander. she rubbed
the muzzle around my mustache and
raked it over the end of my nose until
[ thanked him and said it itched no
longer"
The robbers soon afterward took
their leave, with many apologies, and
Ben continued his journey to the Mis-
souri, with his big emerald and forty