The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1880-03-04

The Story OF a Rowing TyPOgrapher-EIo-
Gave Up.

has sheltered his head from rain and
sun for many a day; long locks, which /
We're once raven, but are now sprinkled /
with gray, curling down over his collar:
a rolling black eye, whose fires have |
grown lusterless with age, long watch |
inga late hours, and bibulous habits; a /
sharp face, with furrowed cheeks: a /
mustache, and short beard a little griz- |
zled; coat buttOned close around his /
spare frame; general appearance !
which indicates that the man has had |
more downs than ups In this world, and |
is getting little tired of the battle of
life-a look of comical impecuniositv.
and sort of scent, not of royal favor,
but of respectable connections, clinging
to his person and there you have Mr..
John l.. Redette, otherwise known as
Texas Jack. He Is a genuine tramp
printer, surrounded with all the 70
mantle halo of a rover, an adventurer, a
soldier of fortune. His sole object in
mingling with men now appears to be
to induce them to g give up," and he
summons to his aid an eloquence which,
though his voice is husky, is quaint and
irresistible. When the Capital man ran
against Jack he was pleading with a
young man who did not seem inclined
to respond literally to the demands made
upon him. {" You are a young man.
said Jack, pOsturing himself with one
hand bobbing up his coat-tail, g of fine
ability, of elegant accomplishments, of
high literary attachments, in the prime
and vigOr of your manhood, surrounded
with friends, receiving a high salary,
with your breeches lined with money.
Look at me; used up physically, NOR
ally and financially. Such as you
should rally to my rescue and buoy me
up, and all that sort of thing. Won't
you give upP'' The young man still
seeming disinclined to q give up Jack
regarded him with a smile which ex-
pressed disdain and pity, while he re-
marked rs he turned away, g Young
man, your face is good, but your heart
is light. The warmest language of the
Sunny South would not touch your
heart.''
Jack next fell into the hands of the
Capital man, who proceeded to turn the
tables, and made Jack himself ''give
up'' little of his personal history.
" You are an old-timer, aren't you
JackP' inquired the Capital man.
g should smile, - replied Jack, and he
suited the action to the word, smiling a
/ broad smile, which bowed all the
creases in his cheeks into nooses.
'Where were you bornP''
''Natchez, my boy, Natchez-on the
! Hill-On the banks of the Father of Wa
tiers, on the beautiful Mississippi. I was
born in 1920. I have been here some
time.''
g How have you spent your days?''
g am a printer. 1 have been pub
Usher of four of the finest newspapers
on this continent. 1 published the Al
bany Democrat, and also the Aspinwan
Courier. l am a printer, L am; l am
no sman-pica setter. Every dollar
earned l passed over the counter. In
the days of my youth and prosperity
cast my money on the waters, and it has
never returned to me. 1 though money
grew on trees then. It never occurred
to me that the days of adversely, days
of financial depression, days of stag
nation of labor and trade were coming /;
but they came. Now find myself in
the sere and yellow leaf, without a cent
to bless me, travelling around like big
yellow dog''-and Jack, who had sat
down during this recital, and thrown
one leg upon the table, looked long and
earnestly at the toe of his boot, which
was in about the same dilapidated con-
ditiOn as himself, and seemed to be gaz-
ing down the long aisle of time to the
days when he was healthy young buck,
with his breaches lined with money and
the world before him.
You have been around some,
guess suggested the Capital man, in
terrupting this revery.
"I have travelled a little,'' replied
Jack, rousing himself. 81 was four
years in the gold regions of California.
| have been in France, Spain and Ger
many. Then l was young and had
money. What travelling [ have
done in the past few years l have done
in slow coaches"
How are you on the walkP''
"Very poor on the walk" replied
Jack, scarcely noticing the interruption.
81 am writing up a story now The
White Chief of the CherOkees; or, the
Scout of the Valley In 40 l was
known as the White Chief of the Chero-
KEGS. lived out there them
g You have seen some thrilling times,
thenP''
g Yes; I went on an expedition to
Cuba in 1850 on the Creole, and l went
on the last expedition in 1851, under
General Lopez. They hunted us down
like dogs then, and shot fifty-two of us.
l was sent to the chain gang in Spain
, for ten years, but 1 was pardoned out in
two months because was an American
citizen. Then l was nine months fight
ing the Incatete Indians in the revolt
against Mexico
Were you in the Mexican warP''
81 was there when the first gun was
fred
g Did you serve in the late warp
( al held the small rank of Major in
the 18th Mississippi. l fought for the
Lost Cause. We were in the most fear
) full charge that was made at Gettysburg,
when the ranks were moved down, the
t men slaughtered like sheep. The mimic
! balls cut my hair; but bear charmed
2 life" Jack sadly bowed his head q
moment, and then looked up, remarked
" While am poor and miserable 1 car
never die; but if 1 should fall heir to 8
fortune 1 would die in twenty-foul
hours
How did you come to be called
Texas JackP" inquired the Capital
man.
John Cockeril wrote me up in the
; Cincinnati Gazette in rs. 1t was head
ed The Texas Editor 1t was beau
tiful article. A column and hall
, solid miniOn. There was a knock al
the door," continued Jack, trying to
| recall the way the article began, 60 and
he came in and stood by the desk, and
he paused and looked at a picture OF
Horace Greeley and remarked, There
is a man after my own heart and we
went down in our pockets and gave
him our last five-dollar bill, and so on.
} Oh, it was beautiful thing. 1t told
every thing about me; where l had
been, the wars had fit and died in,
and every thing. Talk of a clever gen
, tleman. There's John Cockeriu He's