The Press., 1888-10-11
A PECULIAR BUGGY.


 cars with red caboose on the back end for the few passengers. The engineer was wild reckless fellow, who had, think, been drink ing, and sometimes he spurted the train up to between nine and ten miles per hour The time table called for only six, but this dare devil made it average fully seven He didn't altogether forget those things which were be- hind and press forward, however because once between siding No. 46 and Big Portage he happened to drop his pipe out of his mouth while he had his head out of the cab window and actually stopped and backed that long train for fully three-q quarters of mile look ing for it. The conductor and brakemen hung of the steps of the caboose and helped in the search. l put my head out of the ca boose window and looked too, picturing a great white meerschaum pipe lying on the ground like block of sea foam, with just a rich autumn amber tint on the bowl. When the conductor picked it up noticed that it was clay and had a stem two inches long. The engineer when he took it admitted it wasn't worth much, but he said it was one that Billy Higgins, of Q'Appelle, had given him, and he didn't want to lose it. He started to tell how Billy had happened to make him the present, but the conductor said that he had promised his wife to be home early that night and reckoned we had better shack along So the engineer went forward and we shacked.
 went back and climbed up into the "pilot house" of the caboose where had secured a seat by bribing one of the brakemen with noxious cigar. This gave a fine view of the country. You could see fifteen miles to any of the thirty-two points of the compass perhaps further. The country was as flat as @ congressional debate It was in the valley of the Red River of the North. A long lank man with thin hair and hollow cheeks came and climbed up in the cupola with me and helped me abuse the scenery. He had wandering eye and abstracted air and said he had been up to Winnipeg to sell some real estate and was now, as he expressed it. on his way back to Gods country. Most of the various articles of clothing he wore were too large for him, though some were too small He indulged in great hites of dark, forbid ding looking tobacco and had solemn half dejected expression.
 Colonel" he said, with an infection which told that he addressed every man he met by that title, "Colonel, what shall we do to pass away the time2 l never play keerds with strangers on train," he added with, it seemed to me, unnecessary haste.
 didn't know of anything to do, except abuse the country.
 "I know what," he went on; "lets each che of us tell @ story"
 'An right" replied.
 ''It's go then," he said; "what's your story 'bouta"
 "My story is about man." replied un- blushingly, ''who owned a COW that had only one horn, and that wasn't much of horn you know. It's mostly about the cow," I added desperately, wondering what could possibly tell about COW that had only one horn and that not really all horn should be-
 "Sounds first rate, he replied. But two dollars 'n' half it I'll be laundering good story. Mine is only jess bout feller that took his girl to shindig-jess a scrub ev'ry day story. Blaze away with your COW yarn" :
 "Couldn't think of it, sir, couldn't think of it for moment. You go ahead first-I want to hear all about the feller who took his girl to the shindig"
 ''Wen," he replied slowly, and thought he looked even more solemn than before, ''all right-I'n do it-though I'm somewhat anx- ious to know about that COW. Which horn was it that was gone? No matter, though: I'll know when you tell it. The fellow was speaking of came down to 0 little town where l useter live, in Minnesota, and started a newspaper. It was an awful weak paper, and he was cussed fool. He was little, and had red eyes, and went around with his head up like balky COW with a board over her face, and he didn't know nothing anyhow, He didn't know how to run live newspaper. built new hen house-one that jess made the hens open their mouths and cackle when they seen it-but he never said word about it in his paper. He didn't seem to have the ability to discuss public questions like this at all.
 "Well, one night there was shindig out of town about a mile, at Old Man Plummers place. It was big un-they had three fid- dlers and the organ Shey borrowed from the Methodist church. Of course this 'ere Char lie Riggles-that was his name-this ere editor-of course Charlie must go He couldn't see hen house, but he could a shin dig. He blowed about it in his paper before hand, too, and called it a hop, which pred Jerdlced some agin it, too, if he had only knowed it. We'll, he went out some six or seven miles on Gopher perairie, and got Old Hoss Perkins darter to take to this hop, as he called it. She want no caller, sickly specimen-she could precerate the good p'ints of hen house as fur as she could see it. They got to the old mans bout dark. jess as the head fiddler was turning up
 ''Well, the night wore on, which remark once read, and everything was all o. K. The dancin' was kep' up lively am ev'rybody had @ good time. Charlie, the feller I'm a-talkin' bout, brought the girl to the blow out in one O these 'ere one hoss buggies that has powerful small wheels in front an power- full big uns behind. Well, long bout mid night, mebby little past, when it was dark as a string O black cats, bout twelve, or mebby some past, don't know exactly, some O the boys went out to this ere buggy, kinder, an sorter walked around it, an' hefted it, an talked little, an said it looked like rain, am sized up the buggy, an by an' by sorter somehow changed the wheels on the blamed thing-put the behind ones forard an the for'ard ones behind, you see. The boys done it, you know, for sort of a joke, reckon. Mebby they wanted to see if man what couldn't see henhouse would catch onto buggy with its front r'ared up n the air like tread1nill It made 0 powerful funny lookin' buggy of it-'peared to be built some like buffsrlo-high in front an' low behind. l never seen such high should cred buggy before nor since. 1t looked 'sif it had it's for'ard feet up'n the manager reach in over into the oat bin. ;
 sWell, the night wore some more, till o'clock, when Charlie, this ere youth what thought he could run paper, said he guessed they'd better go home So he hitched up, an' Old Hoss' darter put on her dry goods-her wraps an flxin's-an' went out an got in the buggy with Charlie. Still dark's the inside of a cow-no moon for month, an the stars all clouded under. There's something wrong with this ere buggy says Old Hoss' girl. No. nuthin the matter,' says Charlie, we're jess goin' up hill, that's all,' an then they both leaned for'ard to keep from fallin' over h0o