The Middlebury register and Addison County journal. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1883-1885, 1885-06-05
Cowboy in a Sleeping Car.

"Where do | campo" ne inquired and
was shown the lower berth, next to me.
That's my pigconhole, is it2 All
right, old son; just watch my motion,
while file myself away"
At this juncture he was desired to turn
over his revolver to the reporter, which
he declined to do in very spirited man
ner.
cold Dad (his revolver and me al
ways sleep together, and we don't want
no divorce, he explained.
The conductor demonstrated, but was
advised not to try to braid this mules
tail"
"This here's sleepin' car, amt it2"
he inquired.
eyes"
"Well, why the deuce don't you let
people sleep, then, when they've paid
and gone into your game2 If you're
aiming to keep people awake and want
company, just dance into the next car !;
there's lots of folks there don't want to
sleep, nohow, and'l be glad to see you"
The conductor withdrew, and my
friend pulled off his boots and stretched
himself, with many comments in an I'M
dertone on the poverty of the surround
ings.
In about ten minutes this cratic per-
son had his head out in the aisle.
say, you boy" to the porter.
"Well, sah2"
"Come runnin'."
The porter drew near, and a pillow
about as big as pincushion was handed
to him.
Take that gooseha'r thing away"
said the cowboy.
Don't you want pillow, sah2" asked
the porter.
THAT amt no pillow, and l don't
want it, nohow; I'm afraid it'll get in
my ear"
After this, silence, and for a short
time l slept l reused up, however, at
an exclamation on the part of my neigh
Dor.
"Hold on there, my son Jist drap
them bootsm
81 was only jest gwine to black 'em,
boss"
"Drap EN-"
They drapped.
"Jest gwine to pull them spurs, I
reckon. Now, don't monkey round my
camp taking things no more. If you
want anything, speak for it. If you
can't speak, make signs, and if you can't
make signs, shake a bush. You h'ar
me?"
eyes, sah."
After this, silence. The wheels and
rails sang together and the car again kept
approving time, and presently l slept
without interruption.
Jim Daise and the DcacOn's Cherries.
There is no opportunity like the pres
ent, said Jim Dake as he sauntered leis-
urely up Nle lane from the woods toward
Deacon Churchills farmhouse. In front
of him stood a row of cherry trees par
tally laden with fruit In the centre
stood one which for some purpose or
other had been left untouched. The
dead-ripe fruit hung in luscious clusters.
1t was Sunday morning, and the Deacon's
family would of course be at church.
Jim swung himself over the fence,
climbed the tree as nimbly as q cat, and
laid himself out for feast. How good
those cherries tasted A half hour went
by and still the boys capacity for such
luscious fruit seemed in no way lessened.
Time waits for no man, or boy either.
Jim meant to go just before noon, but
those cherries were too good for anything.
Another bOugh at the top hung down so
temptingly that Jim couldn't resist the
temptation, so he climbed higher and
worked harder than ever
Church happened to let out little
earlier than usual, that particular Sunday.
Just as Jim's head popped up as he had
laid hold of that topmost bough, the
deacon came in sight driving old Dobbin
at a good smart trot. He Immediately
spied the thief who was stripping the
tree of the carefully guarded fruit which
had been intended for canning upon the
morrow. lie suspected who the intruder
might be, for Jim's lawlessness was very
well understood. Passing the rens to
his wife he said hastily, ERE, 'Annah
'old the 'orse while tend to that bad
boy of Dake's."
lie seized the whipstock with its long
leather thong and strobe toward the tree
with wrath beaming from his eve.
"Come down ERE" roared the enraged
deacon, "and I'll tan your thieving 'ide
well for you." Jim never budged, but
looked as unconcerned as possible in the
Airantinn of h. A