Mexico weekly ledger., 1884-04-10
Ben H0lladay's Nose,

Beh H0iiaday'S Nose.
One night(sai BENZ, long before
the Pacific Railroad was built, l was
bouncing over the plains in one of
my overland coaches. My wife was
with me. She was sick, and lay
asleep on the bottom of the stage on
a he'd of buffalo skins. Tne night
was fearfully dark, and heavy rain
was falling. Mrs. Holiday and my
self were the only passengers. Sew
eral stages had been robbed within
the last two months. and the driver
was ripping along as though gang
Of prairie wolves were after him.
Suddenly the horses were thrown on
their launches and the stage stopped.
l was heaved forward, but quickly
recovered, and found myself gazing
at the muzzles of double -barreled
shot gun. BY the dim lights Of the
stage lamps the barrels looked as big
as nail kegs. Throw up your
hands, and don't STIR" shouted the
owner in gruff voice. Up went my
hands, and l began to commune with
myself. The fellow damned my
soul, and then cody asked for my
money. l saw that he did not know
who l was, and was afraid that my
sick wife would awake and call me
by name. My coat was buttoned
over my bosom, but hardly high
enough to conceal a magnificent en-
erald that cost me over So, 900 few
weeks before in San Francisco. 1
hardly breathed through fear that the
light might strike the stone, and its
sparkling brilliancy attract the atten-
ton of the robber. had about $40
600 in a monoy-halt, close to the
skin, and several hundred dollars in
my pocket. -.s -.-EE -
Suddenly my friend shouted
"Come, she'll out, ID quick, or
III send the devil a free lunch"
/ passed out the few hundreds
loose in my pockets, and handed him
my gold watch and chain. They
were hefty. think the chain alone
would weigh five pounds at least.
"There,' said I, "there'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 second robber received
the watch and money. Then search
was made for the express company's
box, but the double -bareled shot gun
did not move. Its muzzles were
within a foot of my nose. For my
life 1 did not dare to stir. My nose
began to itch. The stiff hairs of my
moustache got up, one after another
and tickled it until the sensation was
lintolerable. / could stand 1t nc
longer.
stranger" L cried, II must
scratch nv nose; it itches so that
am almost crazy
'.Move your hands," he shouted,
"and I'll blow hole through your
head big enough for jack rabbit tt
Jump through. 1 appealed onc'
more. "Well," he answered, "kee|
your hands still, and I'll scratch
for you, pardncr; | hate to see a fel
low suffer-
"Did he scratch it," asked one o.
Ben's interested listeners.
"Sure," said Mr.. Holiday.
"How!" asked the breathless lis
). tener. .-...=..
"With the muzzlc Of the cookies
gun,'' said the great overlander
"He rubbed the muzzle around M
moustache, ana raked it over the ent
of my nose, until 1 thanked him, ant
said that it itched no longer. Th
, robbers coon afterward took thei
leave, with many apologies, and
, continued my journey to the Nilsson
ri River with my big emerald an
$40 900. Wish I had 'em now.