The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-10-24
In O-BE.JOYFUL.

IN V.DL.JVlIULs
Shorty was my ~favorite stage driver. Other
name he must havehad, but l had never heard
it He was an anomaly among the stage
drivers, for he did not swear, he did not drink,
do did not boast, he did not lie, and with all
his rough exterior he had fine inward graces
and q manly dignity that lifted him far above
most men Of his ciass.
knew that a day Of pleasure awaited me
one June morning, when l had been SO fortu-
nate as to secure for myself q scat by Shorty's
side for q ride over Red Mountain Pass.
In all my years of experience with stage
drivers, 1 had never met one who could 80
quickly detect, and 80 fully appreciate, the
rare beauty and splendor of a mountain road
as this homely, uncoath, ignorant Shorty.
He noted every light and shadow, every bit
of glowing color, the flowers of the rocky road,
the golden shadows Of the narrow streams,
the low-hung clouds that flooded the hills.
The sunshine that came slanting down among
the purple shadows or crowned the s%now-white
crests, the quivering leaves of the aspen, the
gloom Of the pines, the foamy waves of the
crystal streams breaking around aud over the
gray rocks, the glowing splendor of the aster
beds; the tranquil beauty of the mountain lakes
this man Shorty saw and rejoiced in it all.
His soul was lighted up by the majesty, the
beauty and the grandeur of it all. D.
why sir" he said to me-, ''I've lived right
in these here mountains sence '63, an they're
not old to me yit. No, sir, they amt, an Idon't
mornin' an ev'ry night see somethin' in
'em each day that l never noticed afore, an I
amt yit soen airy two sunsets just alike,
There'll be a new kind of q light in the sky
ev'ry time. There's u kind of q somethin' bout
mountings that a man outgrows, an some men
can't git long 'thout after they're used to it
Pm one o them men.
Tve heerd that them that's ben born an
raised by the seashore kin never outgrow the
sound o the waves. 1fthey go away they can't
stay. They jest can't live 'thout the murmur
an the music o them sea waves, an the feelin'
the breezes gives a man.
Snow, I'd just materially die if I had to go an
stay clean out o sight o these hills. l amt
one O. yer poe,icky kind o fellers but I heerd
of a man once ~a-callin' certain mountains the
hills OF his love an sir, that's just what these
hills air to me-the hills of my love.
tive tried goin' away to what some folks
call q civilized country, but l didn't stay long;
an when | die l want to die right here, an
have the hillside fermy tomb, as that woman
writ bout Moses"
Shorty was a garrulcus man, but never
talked when you wished he would not. He
would stop short in the midst of the most ami
mated discourse to enjoy in silence any special
beauty in gulch or valley, or far up in the
heights.
I was sure that the man must have had
many adventures, but he said little about them.
He never spoke of any act of bravery or skill
on his part
One gloomy day when a mist hid the ranges
and gulches from our view, l asked Shorty to
tell me some of his experiences. 81 am sure
| you must have had some strange ones" said.
"Oh, l don't know" Shorty modestly replied,
.snone to speak of, | reckon. l never killed a
bear nor killed o red-skin ner nothin' @ that
pads try to hold me an my passengers up"
"But Your story need not be about any OF
these things to please me" protested.
"Wel, then. Sir, will tell you a bit of a yarn.
You SEQ, the mouth O. that gulch square ahead
of us an not more'n a hundred yards off. You
kin jest make it out the mist The sight of it
reminds me o. somethin'. That's Poor Mans
Gulch. There used to be a party big camp
bout two miles up that gulch. 1t was called
O-Be-Joyfnl, but it got to be a kind OF an o be-
sorrerful place to some o. the boys fore thew
| got out O. it
sat one time / reckon they was as many as
1900 people in ard round O-Be-Joyful. had
= regular boom fer two or three months, an
folks thoughtit was goin' to part Leadville clean
in the shade, an there amt a thing on earth
there this day but q lot o. old tumble down
cabins an tunnels in which many a poor
devil has buried the hope an stren,th of his
life.
tI driv stage from the South Park up to o.
Be-Joyful all through the gay time; an many
an many's the load O happy, hopeful, Young
an old fellers I've hauled up there, an them
a-singin' their gay songs an crackin their Jokes
with ey'ry mortal man of 'em thinkin' thoy was
| goin' straight to fame an fortchin.
''But, l tell you, sir, it, VAN six months
fore l see a many q one o them poor fellers
with nothiu' but the old duds on their backs.
a-goin' a-foot out o. O-Be-Joyful without no
songs on their lips an only sorrer in their
hearts.
That's the way in mimi camps. Some.
how or other folks don't allus hear, an
don't want to hear O the hundred that lose
their all where one man strikes it rich. It's
nothin' on the Lords earth but q game O.
chance, mimi ai'nt
"Wells one day l had q woman passenger.
She was the first one I'd took up, and I hated
to take her; for the place hadn'ta decent house
in it, an she didn't look like q woman that,d
rousbedit much. She was a little CHEEKY
faced and cheery-voiced woman, all dressed in
| plain black, an bout as, near's T could ledge.
But spite O. that CHEEKY an smillin' face. 1
could see plain enough in the woman's eye
that she'd had her cross to bear, and, that its
burden was on Ter yit. She'd a kind of culver
bout her lips, even when she laughed, an onct
in awhile | ketched ON to q little sigh or two
that she'd give.
She act by me all the way to the camp, an
asked a good many questions bout this an that
all y OIleT, DIV Ditll u q WOrQ 10 say Don't her.
self or her plans. l managed to find out that
she was goin' up there a total stranger to ev'ry
man in the camp; as for bein' q stranger to
the w~immen-why, there WANT q livin' WON
an the yit
well, the boys they give her a room in the
best shanty they was up, an l come away an
left her there.
81 got my wrist real badly sprained goin'
back next day, an 1t twas three weeks fore I
driy up to O-Be-Joyful agin. Then / found
the little woman mistress o the biggest board
in-house an hotel III camp. an the most pop
Ter woman there. Myra Clafitt's house was
the house. She was Myra Clatitt to everybody.
but some o the boys was CALM her Aunt Myra,
She did run n stayin' good house. They
wasn't any two ways bout that They wasn't
anything slow bout Myra Claffitt or her table.
Ev'rybody was welcome whether they could
pay or not. But the boys they. see to it that
everybody paid 1t wouln't o. been healthy for
any one to try an sneak out of it.
81 recon that Myra Claffitt WAS as good a
woman as ever the Lord made. The bows in
O-Be-Joyful got 80 they swore by her fairly.
She had a kind of way bout her that not one
woman in . million has. A man couldn'tdo a
thing she'd ask him not to do-anyhow I know
/ couldn't I'd feel 'shamed o. myself all nv
life if I did. Many's the row that woman
broke up. I've seen men stripped for a fight
an all ready to buckle into each other with
murder in their hearts; an when Myra Claffitt
ID march through the crowd that ID give way
fore her, that tight'd be indef'nitly postponed
That's what it would
"But she'd never the first word to say bout
herself. No one knowed if she was q wilder
or not, or II she bad children, or who or what
she WAS. She was q kind Of o woman that.
RoYnahnv mr. ofhor n, nC,v1lrs< n 81, a.