The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-01-03
BILL.

the iron nlgnWay could not DC DulII, cause why i" said he. Simply, cause they kain't Oh, know they have built 'en through c:he. mountains, but not in Arkansaw." He would sometimes mod ify his declaration, and say that the road could not be built within twenty years but the fact that old Bill was prejudiced was as prominent as the nose of a grey hound, or as his own red prohoscis, fol that matter. For nearly thirty years with the exception of the dangerous in. terval when he soldiered with Price, he had driven freight-wagon across hs mountains, and thus welded to an old idea and primitive business, he looked upon any innovation as direct infringe ment upon his own rights. Matrimonially it was a long time before Bill attained success not in failing to achieve the ob- ject of his uncouth wooing-for he had been several times married-but in a luckless endeavor, as he termed it, to get the right sort of m aterial. His wives were noted for temper, a household accom- plishment in which he lacked many points. In religion, too, he called him. self a failure. One night at church, when a warmly solicitous preacher begged him to once more try the sweet efficacy of the mournsrs beach, he shook his head, and replied:
 "No, parson, reckon not this spell l am much obleeged to you fur offerin' to set lem up, but the fact is, it ain't no use while my present wife is livin'. It do peer like my wives is allus agin my havin' '1igion, an don't see why, fur l never was stingy with it, but it's jest that way. The 'ligion l git, parson, peers to be greased on one side. It jest slips be- fore I can turn it over. Many time have tried to flop it over like you've seed wimmen folks do a hoe-cake, but it wouldn't work, fur of it would go on the buttered side."
 "Oh, my dear perishing man! Just come this one more time."
 "Well, bein's as it's free thing I'll go you, but reckolleck that if she slips of it ain't my fault"
 The next day when Bill went home he was not very cordially greeted by his wife, slim, red-haired woman whom the boys called the sweeteneE." She was securing the floor and when Bill entered she threw a bucket of studs on him and exclaimed:
 "Wharve you been hangin' out all nightp
 :" At church most of the time"
 " Well, am sorry for the church, that's all"
 No, Lize, it ain't all. wish it was" wiping the water from his face and sit- ting down on an old hair trunk. five been waitin' fuz it all, fur I'd like to hear the last of it, but the end ain't in sight yit"
 "Never mind, you good for nothin' wretch. You'll think of this when am dead and gone"
 "Now, Lize, don't. have 'fessed 'ligion agin, an' for goodness sake let me keep it awhile"
 "Yes, it's mighty fine 'ligion that you we got. You go an blubber at the bench an then taper of at the grocery. Oh, I know you. Get out of my way" strik- ing at him with moprag."
 Look here, all this business mout be accident but danged-like to lost tiff it looks like it to me. ain't teched drop fur a week"
 Git outen my way" throwing chair at him. "You're nothin' but beast that's all you air"
 Look out, Lize. Do you want me to lose my 1igion right here?'
 "You've got no more 1igion than a cat an you know it"
 q" wish you had as much, Lze."
 "You do, ct p "Whack," she struck him with one of her old shoes, which had come of during the conversation.
 "Now, I'll be d-d ii-'ligion's gone. Told that blamed preacher it want no use. Wall, I've got to go over the mo un- tain an l wouldn't grieve when come back if didn't find you in the neigh borhood. As git old sorter feel like want to go to heaven, but every time put in my petition, blamed if you don't black-ball me. but the Lord may take notion one of these days to come along this way an blow out your light. Can l git some breakfast9"
 Can't git bite here."
 "That's it. Take away mans Igion an not give him anything to eat. We'll, CT good mornin', old sweetner."
 She threw something at him as he went out, but without turning to see what it was. he hitched m his mules and dyove