Milford chronicle., 1883-06-01
SHAKES, THE BUMMER.

Everybody in and around Norway was
acquainted with Shakes. Shakes was
everybody's favorite, and everybody's
Ilughing-stock. What his real name
was no one on the Flat, excepting the
Postmaster. knew or seemed at all
anxious to ascertain. In outward APP
pearance he was a specimen of debased
humanity. Debauchery was indelibly
stamped upon every feature. 1t was
deemed a rare sight to see him with a
clean face. Streaks of gray forced
themselves through the accumulations
that clung to his long matted locks and
untlimmed beard. A coarse blue woolen
overshirt, with tattered sleeves, covered
his back. from whence many doubted
whether it had been removed since the
day he first put it on, in Griflin's store
twelve months ago. His duck pants had
completely lost their original whiteness,
and were tucked into well-worn, much
patched pair of gum-boots. The venta'
bic felt hat, worn by him in 80, still
maintained its usual position ON the side
of his head. The only change it had
apparently undergone since then was
that piece of an old rubber coat now
constituted the crown.
Shakes history, outside Of the pre-
cincts of Norway Flat, was wrapped IN
complete mystery. Even the time Of
his arrival in the camp was unknown.
Brown. the proprietor of the "Occiden-
tal'-Norway Flats principal hotel,
drinking and dancing saloon-and also
one of the pioneers Of the place, assert
cd ssSbakes bummed around here when
7 fust rived in 81" 1t was generally
believed that he hailed from the State
of Maine. Shakes, however, was no
..tamperance man" himself; to the con-
trarv. he had earned the unenviable
reputation of being an inveterate "whis-
XIV hummer. No one had known him
to pass a single night on the Flat 'out
of his cups. 1t is true that these con-
slant imbibings had so enfeebled his
system as to cause him to readily sue
cumb to its influence.
A lonely log-cabin stood on the hill
side. Shakes owned it. and professed
to be its occupant; but seldom if ever
crossed its threshold. The bar-room OF
some one or other of the numerous
drinking hells was his home; the floor, a
bench or a faro-tablo was his bed.
Although slave to his appetite for
Intoxicating liquors, none OF the venders
on Norway Flat were much the richer
for having Shakes as their customer 1t
was seldom a coin passed from his hands
TO the barkeeper's drawer; but drink he
must have. and somehow or other he al
wavs managed to obtain it. The man
ner in which he obtained it was but a
secondary consideration to him. Moth
inc was too humiliating or too degrading
for him to do for it. When begging
failed. strategy was Immediately resort
ed to, and in this he was invariably sue
cessful. He would enter the saloon. 60
MP to the bar, with his thumb and fore
finger inserted in his pocket, and adj
dress the barkeeper, thus:
81 say, barkeeper, hurry up; give me
a brandy straight" "
The barkeeper would first cast q
glance at the position of the hand, and
then tender the bottle to Shakes, who
would unconcernedly drink. "Here'a
luck. and retire from the counter with.
out paying.
"Ho, Shakes p
"Eh?"
"Come and see me.
'No, thankee; don't feel like it now
Jest had un. y
And the barkeeper learned that he was
duped once more, but dare not punish
his deceiver. The Indignation of the
entire camp would most assuredly fall
upon the individual who dared to abuse
Shakes. He was Norway Flats "privi-
leged character. 'Likes his whisky
1 know, hut he's a harmless, good
natured old devil for all that, was the
sentiment universally expressed by the
members Of that little mining com
munity.
.Inebriate as he was, Shakes was moi
indolent. He was always, in sunshine
or rain, engaged in chopping cord wood
or in irving shakes-long shingles; from
which latter occupation he received his
nickname. The sun rose on Shakes enter
ing the woods, it set upon him making
"bee-line" for the ''Pony Saloon" Fire.
wood was worth six dollars cord, and
shnlres sixteen dollars q thousand. II